Oh my heart

It's been a very difficult couple of weeks here. On May 6, we said goodbye to our cat, my first girl, Jezabel.

April 4, 2016

 
It's been an adjustment to living without her. She's been with me my entire adult life. We have been together for 14 years, before the husband, the house, the family.

Fall 2002 I think

We've been through 5 moves together, some more difficult than others, and I'm sad to be revising the plans for our new home to not include the nook for the litter box in the laundry room. I miss her most in the evenings. That was our time. She liked sleeping in, so I didn't always see her in the mornings during the flurry of activity involved in just getting out the door unless the water bowl needed attention. She would just sit next to it patiently and look at me until I got the message. But in the evenings, when the little ones are safely upstairs and we've settled onto the couch, she would always jump up to me for some lap time. Always me, almost every night, almost completely unbothered by whatever activity I was doing. I often commented that she must be broken, as there could be yarn draped right on her head and knitting needles nearly poking her in the eye, and she would just keep snuggling (at least this was true in the second half of her life - she wasn't super snuggly in the early days!).

 

I adopted her from a local humane society when she was maybe about a year old when I was the ripe old age of 19.

I was a baby myself, so naive. I wanted a little something to love, to take care of, to keep me company. I suppose I was trying to make a family, and thank goodness I was bright enough to fulfill that desire with a pet. I wasn't, and still am not, a cat person. I wanted a dog, but they weren't allowed in the condo where I was living. Cats weren't either, but I rationalized that she would be easier to hide than a dog. In the end, she would always sit behind the blinds overlooking the courtyard, so she was a rather terribly kept secret. She didn't like to be held at all, and only sort of tolerated petting, but I thought she was so pretty so I brought her home with me. (that's a really dumb reason to choose a pet, but 19) In fact she was so mean that I named her Jezabel.....because I thought that it meant devil. Apparently I wasn't real up to snuff on my history, because that is NOT what Jezabel means. It's also not even the right spelling of the word! However, she DID have a habit of laying on her back spread eagle so....the name stuck.

One of the most surprising things about her, is that while she would have no problem giving me a nip, or that crazy habit she used to have of ninja bombing your feet as you walked, she was always so good with kids. I once babysat for a little 2 year old girl, who would inadvertently whack her over the head with her little fishing pole feather toy, and J was utterly complacent through all of the abuse.

We've always taken care to emphasize "gentle touches," but you can't always intercept the sudden tug of fur or a tail. She never even hissed, and there were certainly occasions where a firm nip was well deserved!

 

I'm 33 now, and a completely different person. Maybe not completely, but I've definitely done a lot of growing up in that time, and she was there for it, through all the changes. I even eventually stopped torturing her with outfits for the high holidays.

 She grew up too. Hugely, at one point, when we lived with a roommate and her cat who ate like a cat. By this I mean that my roommate's cat could handle having a full bowl of food out and graze at his leisure, where J would wolf down any and all food until it was gone, hers and his combined, like my childhood dog always did. That was the biggest sign that she was sick, in the end. I did get her down to a reasonable weight again, but she always kept a big belly of loose skin from her huskier days. In the last 6 months, she didn't always clean her food bowl, and eventually we realized that there was a lot more loose skin than there used to be. I put her on the scale at home, and she had lost about 3-4 lbs, which is a lot when you start at 11 or 12.

Bloodwork was rather inconclusive, and we were left with a decision to make. Go down a diagnostic rabbit hole to pinpoint her illness? Or consider that she was 15 years old, not elderly, but a solidly adult cat, and try to make her comfortable as she finishes her life? It felt like it took no time at all, but as I looked back at her records, the whole process took about 4 months. I had finally decided to start her on B12 shots and a steroid to help with her appetite, but it was too late by then. We did get her eating again, a bit. She was a dry food cat her whole life, because I'd once read that cats were finicky and might not go back to dry food if occasionally treated with wet or canned food. She got more treats in the last 4 months than she did probably ever. We frequented the fancy local pet store and picked up anything they recommended that was high in calories and deliciousness. She had canned food, gravy meals, freeze dried treats, goat's milk, anything that I could get her to sniff at. The hardest part was monitoring how much she actually got before the dog snuck in there and inhaled it. He's no dummy - he knew she was getting the good stuff.

The day I suspected we were coming to the end, she'd been having accidents. She hadn't been eating much, and her stools did not look healthy. That's when I made the appointment for her vitamin shot. The day that appointment came, I was sick myself and had to cancel. I never got the chance to reschedule. Less than a week later, she was sitting in the kitchen with her head hanging so low it was nearly brushing the floor. She turned away from the multiple kinds of food I offered her, and a check of her box revealed that she hadn't used it in a day and a half. That's the day I knew. I held her and cried.

The following day I called the vet again, this time to make the appointment. They had an opening that afternoon. It was too fast. It was also my husband's birthday. I needed more time. My family came over after dinner for cake. It turned out kind of nicely that way. They all got a chance to say goodbye as well. Even though it certainly wasn't a popular development at the time, she did live at their house for 2 years at one point, so it was nice that almost everyone got one last pet.

I reserved the next night, the night before as strict family time, just our little bunch. I'm not sure she even touched the floor at all she was held and petted so much. I considered bringing her to sleep in our bed, but I didn't. The bedrooms have always been off limits to her as I do have allergies and didn't want her sleeping on my pillow regularly. I was afraid that she would be crushed or knocked off the bed, as we were so unused to sleeping together anymore, so I settled her on her own bed for the night.

She was still there in the morning, I doubt she moved at all. She was still there when we came home early from work to take her to the doctor. I held her and cried for a long time. I tried giving her some food and water one last time. I was gripped with guilt when she did actually eat a bit of it. I worried that we were jumping the gun, acting too soon. She stumbled on her weak, skinny legs as she walked away, which was comforting to me in that moment. I was glad she was able to have a bit of a last meal, but she showed me that she was indeed very ill, and I felt a bit more at peace about the timing of my decision.

The vet is only a block and a half away, but we drove. It was raining a little, and I couldn't bear to put her into her carrier. It was only the cardboard box that she came home in from the shelter. I never upgraded her to a true cat carrier. She didn't travel, and she loved boxes. She would often just hang out in that box, so I just kept it for the occasional trip to the vet as it was kind of a safe place for her. This time though, I held her in my arms.

 

They had the exam room set up for us. There was a towel laid out on the table. They showed us right in, which I appreciated. They took care of the bill for us before, so that we could just leave when we were ready. I've seen tearful families quickly leaving in the past when I've been in the waiting room. I always thought that it was considerate that they don't make you settle up right after saying goodbye to your pet. I've never been present for the end of a life before, and I don't look forward to having to do it in the future. I chose to help her move on rather than waiting for the end. She was suffering, and I didn't want to come home to her, knowing she had gone alone. I was glad that I was able to be there, difficult as it was. I was glad there were tissues in the room. I needed them. I sort of need them now. A good friend who has gone through this several times recently said that she likes to talk to her cats as they go. I liked that idea. It's comforting knowing that the last thing she heard was my voice.

We chose not to bring her ashes home. I thought about it, having a little ceremony in the back yard. It didn't feel right though. She was an indoor cat. She never spent time in the yard. We won't even have this yard in a few years, and I would hate the idea of leaving her behind that way. I was sure to take a lot of pictures of her, and might consider having some kind of keepsake made. For now, I'm choosing to move on and take the memories with me.

I was very conscious of needing to explain what was happening, so that it wouldn't be a surprise. I hope that I was careful to strike that balance of being honest without being blunt, to be accepting of any reaction, to be open to questions without being pushy. I would recommend several books to help explain loss to children. Ida, Always, I Will Always Love You, and Saying Goodbye to Lulu were excellent. There were others that we read which were definitely not excellent, but I won't list them here. The last two were about losing pets, dogs specifically. Ida was a polar bear, and that story was told from her best friend Gus's perspective. I thought it was beautifully written and illustrated. In the end I'm glad that our first experience with loss is that of a loved pet, and that it was a natural death, though helped along. That was the only thing none of these books addressed, and I wish one of them had. While it was really hard, I do believe it's kind to help end suffering when there's no chance of it getting better.

I am adjusting to saying that I have a dog now. Not a cat and a dog. Just a dog. He drives me crazy, but he's a good boy. He is also, and always has been, a snuggler.

Back in 2009 or so, just getting to know each other

He is definitely my husband's buddy, like J was mine. He still favors D, but he's been scootching a little closer to me. I think he knows I need it.

I'll miss you sweet girl.

And now, to teach!

(I've had this post on my mind for a week. I usually look back at the last post I wrote just to refresh my memory and to try not to repeat myself. Somehow it's amusing to me that my last entry was all about restless energy, and now I'm here to say that I've DONE something with it! Several somethings actually, but I'll get into that later.)

First, a brief history. I was scrolling through Instagram last week, and I saw a post from the new local yarn store (LYS, for the knitters) where the owner mentioned that she also teaches at some local colleges. I made a comment, as I'm making an effort to comment TO people and not just as part of the one sided conversation in my mind, something like wow, you keep busy! Then I thought it myself....maybe she IS busy! Maybe she needs help at the shop! Wouldn't that be fun, to sit around and knit and pet the yarn and help people with their projects? So, completely on a whim, I sent her a message to that effect. And then, to my surprise, she responded saying that she was thinking of bringing shop help on in the future, but in the meantime was looking for someone to teach a Knitting 101 class, and would I be interested in that? My heart sort of leaped, and I knew that I was interested, so I leaped too! (Just as a note, while I didn't necessarily know the owner, Kate, very well, I'd been into the shop a few times and we have at least one mutual contact. I love this knitting community!)

So now that it is officially up there on the website, I'd like to announce that I'm teaching the Wednesday, April 13 session of Knitting 101 from 6-8pm at Wild Haven Fiber Co in Milwaukee, WI! (There are also some weekend classes offered - I just happen to be teaching the weeknight session.)

(Photos above are credited to http://www.wildhavenfibercompany.com)

Details about the class:

This class is a 2 hour session, and is limited to 5 people in order to provide plenty of one on one instruction. I will be reviewing a few basic cast on's, how to knit and purl, a few basic cast off's, definitions of basic terms you'll come across like garter stitch and stockinette, as well as a review of yarn weights and common materials that beginning knitters should be familiar with.

To demonstrate these skills and give students a chance to practice AND get a functional object, we will be working on a cowl like this:

It is knit in the round on size 8 needles in worsted weight, and could easily work for an adult or child depending on how long the student chooses to knit it.

The cost of the class is $40, and includes needles and yarn in your choice of color.

If you are interested, give Kate a call at 414-744-0009 or stop into the shop!

(There's nothing scheduled at the moment, but there is also a 2 session knitting 102 class offered at the shop which builds on these introductory skills, resulting in a cute basic beanie style hat!)

I'm so excited to teach this class! If it all goes well, I may end up teaching this class monthly, and potentially developing new ones. Beyond that, I'm really excited to get involved with this new shop. I'm lucky in that there are a couple of pretty good yarn shops within 20 or 30 minutes drive from me, but this one is both SUPER close to me as well as exactly the aesthetic I love in a shop.

A photo posted by Wild Haven Fiber Company (@wildhavenfiberco) on Dec 11, 2015 at 12:21pm PST

A photo posted by Wild Haven Fiber Company (@wildhavenfiberco) on Dec 23, 2015 at 1:04pm PST

A photo posted by Wild Haven Fiber Company (@wildhavenfiberco) on Mar 23, 2016 at 8:36am PDT

It's located in a very cute part of the city, and just has such a fresh and welcoming vibe. It's small, but the yarn selection is really great in my opinion. There's a really good balance between the fancy, luxury yarns as well as more standard, workhorse wools for mittens and socks. It probably helps that Kate's color palette and design sense are right in line with mine - a lot of natural or rich colors, simple shapes, interesting textures, beautiful but useful objects. I'm so looking forward to making Wild Haven my knit night home now that she has opened her shop up for open knitting a few times a week, and to work with her on who knows what in the future! I'm also so grateful to her for giving me a chance to stretch my skills at just the right moment when I was looking for a new opportunity! Thanks Kate!

Restless

I am just closing out a hellishly busy travel period for work, and I am feeling restless.

One of the things that has been hardest for me, and somehow different during this project, is that I've literally been without rest. I've been a pretty good sleeper for most of my life. I typically fall asleep easily, and was definitely the stereotypical teenager who would sleep away most of the day if left to my own devices. On occasions where I have trouble falling asleep, I feel like I have no coping skills! Lately I have no trouble falling asleep....the first time. It's the 2 or 3 am wakeup that just kills me. I don't have to be awake that long, but it seems that it's JUST long enough to start my brain turning and I can't turn it off long enough to fall back asleep for another few blissful hours! I just start thinking about my to do list for the upcoming day or week, or start rehashing the work of the previous day and things left undone or did I remember to add that one thing to the plan and did I create a security issue by doing that other thing and I know I can add a wall back there and that will solve the security issue but then is that a dead end corridor? I hope I can remember to measure that in the morning and OH MY GOD GO BACK TO SLEEP ALREADY!!

I actually feel a little anxiety typing that out. And I did remember to measure that and we are golden.

So...I've been finding it a little hard to relax. Why is this project different than all the others I've worked on? I can't put my finger on exactly one thing or the other. I suspect it's an accumulation of a lot of factors...responsibility for a lot of program space, confusion over exact division of some responsibilities, growing pains in learning how to delegate work, stress and sadness about leaving home so often, length and frequency of trips, lack of consistent deep sleep and just the pace of the meetings and travel weeks. I'm definitely not one to glorify busy-ness, but I certainly have been busy lately. I'm left without either the time or the energy to recharge and reflect, and it's manifesting in this feeling of restlessness.

I'm just flying through each task and I don't feel like I have the luxury of time to stand back and get out of the weeds long enough to breathe and take in all the parts and pieces as a whole. I've finished knitting and sewing projects, but they've been thrown into immediate use with no more than a quick log of start and completion dates in ravelry. I've drawn floor plans and always find things I want to change just about as soon as the ink is dry. I think to myself how relaxing spinning some fiber could be but I need to change out the bobbin and that feels like a lot of work. That leaves me thinking that it would sure be nice to upgrade to a modern wheel. I have the money, but it feels like a wasted investment as I can't seem to find the time to spin at all. Maybe I should use that money to upgrade my wardrobe, as I constantly want to purge just about everything I own. Then I feel like I don't want to make "fast fashion" purchases, and maybe I should try to make more of my own clothes. Like wouldn't it be fantastic to have a greater selection of cute skirts with pockets? But then again, time, and the lack of it. I'm still mulling the idea of podcasting, but I worry that I would just be more noise in a sea of other podcasters, and then what's the point? I know this wall of text isn't that interesting for anyone else, but I'm hopeful it will be cathartic for me and I can stop turning it all over and over in my mind in the wee hours of the morning. If not, maybe I'll just start getting up and writing all this nonsense down here!

Renew

Oh the ambivalence. It's hard to describe how I'm feeling lately. I've definitely been in a weird mood. I suppose it's just been a really busy half year, and I haven't had the time or desire for introspection. I'm happier than I've been in a long time, which is why this mood feels so strange. It's also not that I'm not making things, because I've been making a TON! I've just had no desire to document - often I just cast off or snip the last threads and put said item immediately into rotation or give it away as a gift. There have been very few photos snapped, either on the phone or on the dusty big camera, and obviously none blogged. No particular reason other than I'm eager to move onto the next thing!

This blog. I suppose part of the reason I haven't been writing here is because I'm unsure of its purpose. While I don't think many people read, it feels weird to change gears without acknowledging the change, even if it's only a record for myself. I created this blog to keep track of things I've made, and I'd still like it to be that. I created it as a journal of sorts, and I think I'd like it to be more of that. I created it to bring attention to things I was selling on Etsy, and I don't think I want to do that anymore. I didn't sell any finished goods last year, and I've been feeling good about that. I just find that I'm in a season of life to let some things go and to move on to others, and the hobby business is one of those things. It was nice to have a little extra money, but I was getting bored making the same thing over and over, and keeping or giving so little of it to people I know. I tried a little of the linking up and self promotion to try to grow recognition or readership, but I felt weird doing it and I'm not going to anymore. It would be nice to be one of those people who makes money from their blogs, but I'm never going to be comfortable with that level of self promotion and sell your soul, so why exactly do I care about "linky parties?" (just the term, ugh)

I don't know. I just want to be me. I really don't care right now if anyone is reading, if anyone ever reads. I'm turning off all the post pushes to various social media. If people happen to find this post other ways, that's totally cool, but I'm writing this for me. I'm not linking for affiliate pennies, that wasn't really working for me. I'm going to link where I want to follow my train of thought, and that's it. A big part of me thinks I should abandon the whole thing in favor of a paper journal, or go straight up private because then I could add more photos to my stories....but I hesitate. I've been listening to and watching a ton of podcasts lately, and it feels very voyeuristic in some ways. I often feel like I "know" the people I'm listening to, and want to interact, but then feel weird that they don't know me at all. Never say never, but I don't want to be a podcaster. But I'm a bit envious of the relationship I see playing out between my digital friends, and it's like I'm not invited to the party because it's a one sided relationship. It's a very strange tension, now that I think of it. So anyway, I figure by keeping my making and some of my random trains of thought public (though not promoted), I can join in that conversation if I want to.

As for the title of this post, RENEW is my word of 2016. I don't do a lot of resolutions, but I've heard of the one little word or theme of the year thing for a couple of years from a couple of places. I think renew could serve me rather well. I've been keeping pace with a lot of things, and I'm at a place now where I am ready to step back, prioritize, and renew my focus on the things that are most important to me....and just let the rest go. So here's to that, happy 2016.

How tired am I?

I firmly believe that a continuous lack of decent amount of consecutive hours of sleep is a very effective form of torture, and a device for seeing exactly how stupid and clumsy you can be.

I keep my compostable food scraps in a gladware container in the fridge, because this limits how full we can stuff the bin before taking it outside, and it keeps the scraps from smelling or collecting fruit flies. However. We also keep food leftovers in gladware containers in the fridge.

As I was making my lunch today, I realized that I'd dumped the coffee grounds that were intended for compost into the container holding the last dozen or so mini pumpkin muffins instead. This was annoying, but there were still a few that were untouched by the grounds and seemed salvageable. I scooped them out and put them into a fresh container. And then I knocked that container on the floor.

That was very annoying.

I'm so tired.

making progress like molasses

I don't know what it is, but I am in a capital F-Funk.

Everything I'd like to do seems to be preceded by a whole bunch of other tasks, some of which I want to do, some I really don't, and others I'm not sure if I can.

I want to do more sewing to both grow my shop offerings and to make a bunch of personal things I have in the queue. To do that, I need to finish the sewing studio. To do that, I need to finish the cutting table. To do that, I need to assemble it. To do that, I need to finish painting the bases so that I can attach and stain the top. I've managed to get exactly one coat of paint on one of the cutting table bases. I'll need at least two coats of paint, and another coat or two of poly. That single coat took forever. Even mother nature was laughing at me as she rained down falling leaves into my wet paint, and now it's too cold outside to even finish the job.

So to do that, I need to clear space in the studio itself, but it has inexplicably become overrun with toys as well as all my junk because I haven't finished out the shelving yet, so I have nowhere to put anything. To do that, I need to figure out what to do about the rug so that I can face being down there. (I finally ordered a rug several weeks ago. It wasn't quite what I was expecting, so I was trying to get used to it. In the meantime, the cat had several large disgusting incidents all over it. My husband tried to clean it up, but used way too much cleaner and way not enough rinsing. I've tried scrubbing at it with water several times, but I fear the whole thing may be ruined, which really pisses me off. Last ditch effort may be renting carpet scrubber to try to fix it. And probably drinking a bottle of wine to take the edge off.) To stop this from happening again, I need to actually HANG the door that I purchased to prevent it in the first place. To do that, my husband needs to modify the door. I don't feel like I can do this myself because he started modifying the frame, and I expect he had a correlating plan to do the door the same way. So all that being said....I just feel stuck. I feel like there are just too many things, and they all feel overwhelming.

I'd like to be on top of the laundry situation because not being on my game is spiraling out of control over the rest of the house.. To do that, I need to clean out the laundry room which is currently filled with both scraps of and full sheets of drywall. I can't physically move the 4x8 sheets by myself (probably), so instead I just get frustrated that they are in my way. I'd like to move them into the garage, but to do that I need to either organize it or face the fact that no, we will not be parking a car in there this winter. All of this basement/laundry disorganization prevents me from other issues, like storage of outgrown clothing, what else can or should be moved to the studio from the former office/now playroom. There's this crazy domino effect, and I seem to be the only person bothered by it. But I feel like it's more than I can tackle on my own. I'm not great at asking for help. Maybe it's because I have this insane rolling list in my mind (yes, even more than I've outlined here!). There's an order that I feel things need to be completed, and I think I'm just crap at communicating said order. Plus it's not like time is this unlimited thing, and my timeline never seems to align with those of the people I need help from.

Usually I can get out of this sort of cycle by just writing things down, or talking it out or something. But it's not working for me this time. This time I just feel overwhelmed. Rather than feeling motivated by my list, I feel sort of crippled by it. 

So I feel stuck. And in a funk. And altogether crabby about it.

Some thoughts on pricing on Etsy

Crochet Booties

The holiday season is quickly approaching, and for handmakers, now is the heart of the busy season. As soon as the calendar clicked over to fall, I could see my Etsy shop views and favorites start to double....and even triple. I've been making enough sales to keep me rather busy, but I'm not overwhelmed just yet. However, making products, listings, re-listings, shipping things out....it's all got me to thinking a lot about the way I run my shop and the way I've set my prices.

Want to know a secret? When I opened up my shop, I had no method to pricing. None. I simply threw out a number that felt sort of ok and went with it. I sold quite a few kids hats in the early days, and I priced them all pretty much the same. I thought, well, a kid's hat should be about.....this much, and I held that price despite differences in quality of material, varying complexities in pattern or color changes, and just went with it. I did price enough to cover the cost of materials and a little bit of pocket money to, most likely, buy more materials. But for my time? I pretty much didn't get anything for my time.

Slipper Socks

Don't get me wrong, I love making things. But when you are taking time from your family, your leisure time and your own hobbies....you sort of want something to show for it in return. I don't think that's greedy, I just think that's fair. Ironically, the more complex and time intensive a project is, I'm more likely to give it as a gift than for something for sale. I recently had someone inquire about the Nova sweater dress I'd knit to see if I'd ever consider making them for sale (by the way, thank you SO much for your interest! That was so sweet!) My first instinct was, good lord, how would you even price a whole sweater?! I mean, I can't just say $40 because that's what you might pay somewhere like baby Gap, because what if it takes me a month? But I also can't just say $300, because that's astronomical.

So I decided to actually work it out. What WOULD it cost to make that dress? In the past, I simply searched for similar items on Etsy and priced myself sort of in the low end of the middle of the pack. But after doing a bunch of research, and an incredibly enlightening conversation with the lovely and talented Elizabeth Ivie of Ivie Baby, I came to the conclusion that it makes MUCH more sense to look at my actual process and workflow to set my prices. I made myself a little spreadsheet, and it really opened my eyes. Even for the few existing items in my shop, I was paying myself a really wide and nonsensical variety of rates....some as low as $2/hr. Wow. What's minimum wage these days? Somewhere around $7? I've definitely done those jobs, as cashiering and filing work bought my first car and got me through the early years of college. Knitting and sewing certainly feel like more skilled labor than swiping canned food through the scanner. And yet I was only paying myself a fraction of that rate. And why? I'm certainly much more proud of anything I make in my shop than I was of those neatly alphabetized files.

I'm still working through it, but I think I've come to a couple of conclusions. First, an hourly rate doesn't make sense for knitting. For example, it takes me about 3 hours (roughly - I rarely have that much time in a single block in order to measure this!) to make one mitten. Double that, because most people order two mittens, and we're up to 6 hours. Conservatively, another hour or two for finishing work (it ALWAYS takes longer than you think it will!) and the cord....now we're up to 8 hours. 8 hours x $7/hour = $56. FIFTY-six dollars. FOR BASIC KID'S MITTENS. They're cute. But I'm not certain they are $56 cute.

Toddler Mittens

So....hourly rates for knitting sort of don't make sense. However, an option commonly used by commission knitters is a rate per YARD of knitting. This can range from $0.15-0.25 per yard of yarn depending on the difficulty of the pattern. I can easily do some mathematical wizardry (ahem multiplication and division) and figure out how many yards of yarn I'm using based on the total yards in the skein of yarn and the weight of the finished object. It's been pretty enlightening for me to work those numbers on the current (and super long list of potential future) items in my shop.

Hourly rates DO make sense for sewing though. Yardage doesn't, because yards go by in a snap when you're talking fabric! Plus there are all kinds of other details from cutting, actual sewing, finishing, and details like buttons, snaps or zippers to consider. Elizabeth said that she looked around at what professional seamstresses charge, and set her rates accordingly. When you are selling independently, you are not only the designer and maker, but you are also responsible for all of the back of house accounting, billing, shipping and marketing - those overhead costs really should be factored into your rates.

Even if you are selling as a hobby, it's important to price your work fairly. Some people are doing this as a full time gig, and it would be wicked tough to survive at $3 an hour. I've been working on a pair of socks (off and on) since June. So given the time investment, and the fact that good, solid quality sock yarn can cost $10 on its own, it's sort of heartbreaking to see people selling a pair of handknit socks for $12. I don't think you can even get Smartwool socks for less than $20 without some sort of monster sale! Obviously everyone should do what feels right for them, but the implication to buyers might be that ALL handknit socks should be worth $12, and I just don't believe that's true.

Snap Scarf

 I realized one more thing that I think is key for me to keep in mind. I - and other crafters and makers like me - might not be my ideal client base. Let's face it, I learned to knit and crochet and sew and who knows what else because I want nice things for just the cost of materials. I'm WILLING to invest my time and energy into learning these skills and into the time it takes to make them. I am not willing to pay for someone else to do this (mostly - I do still buy handmade from other people when I just don't have the time to pull something off or the desire to do it as well as they do!). It's important for me to realize that other people would much rather make the trade off to pay someone else to do the hard work and for them to buy the finished object. After years and years of mass production, there are plenty of people out there who actually want to seek out artisans to make them beautiful handmade things. And THOSE people are my actual client base. They understand that the cost of handmade goes beyond the wholesale price of paper and ink, or yarn, or fabric. It's much more than that. It's time. It's talent. It's hard work. And it's care.

So those are my thoughts on pricing these days. How do other people do it? What is handmade worth to you?

Fall traditions, and works in various stages of progress

Just like the rest of the country, or so it might seem from my facebook feed, we've done the obligatory fall rites of passage this past week.

(I had to zoom in really far in order not to capture any unsuspecting families)

Almost immediately afterwards, we went above and beyond with the fall traditions.

The knitting was essential, as I was trapped beneath a sick person and couldn't risk moving. I only wish I'd thought to turn on the lights before we sat down...or that I wasn't working on something in black at the time.

If only I'd thought to grab one of my other projects! I'm plugging along slowly on my cardigan, and have only managed to miss one buttonhole which should have been worked "at the same time." You know you're in for it whenever directions toss one of those your way!

I've also got some gorgeously smooshy Skacel SimpliWorsted which is working up quite quickly and nicely. (I got it at an adorable new to me LYS called Bungalow Quilting and Yarn. They also carry all of that pretty Cotton + Steel fabric I see all over the blogosphere....dangerous.)

Speaking of fabric and why sometimes you really SHOULD buy it in person...

The two on the right are from fabric.com and are both "navy." (sweatshirt fleece and ribbed knit) Now, I like both colors on their own, but they were meant to go into one project, so that's just not going to work for me. Even now, looking at the listings in better light, it's OBVIOUS they are different colors, but I didn't expect it to be so drastic. So, rookie mistake on my part. The gray herringbone* is from Joann Fabrics* and is likely destined to be a snap scarf. I'm going to take the sweatshirt fleece with me next time to see if I can get a decent match, or at least a passable contrasting color. And all of those projects are just waiting for me to get a little more work done on that table!

*this post contains affiliate links

Finally finished

Ravelry says that I finished this Nova sweater dress in June.

 

That's not entirely true. Yes, I finished the knitting. Yes, I wove in the ends. I even bought grosgrain ribbon and buttons at some point shortly thereafter. But I put it away. I didn't have it in me to finish it.

You see, I was going through a hard time when I knit this dress. There was a painful loss in my life, and it was all I could do to just mindlessly knit, row after row, a little shaping but mostly stockinette for miles. It was therapeutic. It was something to do other than cry. I needed something to hold on to, to rip apart if it wasn't working, to put back together again because it could, in fact, be put back together.

I pulled it out a few nights back. I on a high after finishing my wallaby sweater for the Commuter Knitter finish-a-long. I didn't put this dress on my list, because I didn't know if I'd be able to. I was happy to realize that when I got it out, I didn't see it as a sign of pain, but as a symbol of making it through.

I hadn't quite realized how much it had helped me until I was listening to another podcast this week, from Michelle of ACTually Knitting (who, by the way, I think has such a soothing voice, great for a podcast). She was talking about how the simple act of knitting has helped her get through some really hard times this past year, and wanted to start a discussion of what other people had done or achieved or accomplished #becauseofknitting. At first I thought of my awesome knitting group and the slow but steady growth of my shop, but as she kept talking and started revealing the deeper things, the real things, I realized that knitting had helped me too.

(on more technical notes, I wish I'd sewn all the buttons on so the direction of the thread was the same, but I didn't. I tried lining the back of the buttonhole side with ribbon, but it didn't work out. I did line the back of the buttonband, but I didn't use backing buttons and I'm still not sure what they are for. The ribbon at the hem will hopefully stop that edge from flipping up the way stockinette garments so often do, despite the garter stitch border. The yarn used is toddler friendly Lion Brand Baby Soft and Bernat Softee Baby acrylics in DK weight. Overall I really enjoyed the pattern, and I think the only change I made was to reverse the order of the shaping stitches in the skirt.)

Get out of town

In a move that surprised no one more than me, I decided to go on a getaway weekend...camping. This is surprising because I'm not what anyone would consider...outdoorsy.

I also do NOT pack light. My sister goes backpacking. I don't even know how we are related.

Because we don't camp, we have not much in the way of gear and had to borrow most of it. Thanks guys! My neighbor let us test out both of her tents.

We had actually decided on the larger one hiding behind the sheets (man I love the smell of line drying, and we even get pretty lucky with the birds not leaving us presents despite the lines running right below a huge tree), but we were told it wasn't quite waterproof. We ended up bringing both (see, I don't pack light), but only pitching the little one on the right because there was a 50% chance of rain. It was....cozy, but considering this was a little getaway, we didn't mind the close quarters. I never come out on the right side of 50% crappy weather odds, but we did this time. Probably because we prepared!

We also borrowed these sleeping pads, and I will say that the blue one (similar here I think) was SO comfortable! It's self-inflating, and while I felt sort of like a moron watching it because I wasn't positive it was actually inflating, I wasn't sore at all after sleeping on just that. My husband layered two of those foam pads and said his arm and hip were falling asleep laying on his side. I took this picture to send to my backpacking sister, who also thinks the foam mats are uncomfortable. Look, it's just as small!

Anyway, I did basically no research on the park we decided to stay at, which is also a change for me. The times I've camped in the past, I spent a ton of time looking at maps and reviews and pictures of the actual sites. This time, I simply picked a weekend, found a place that had available sites that wasn't 4 hours away, and just booked it. While we did have a really nice, relaxing time, that may have been a mistake. Our site was totally not private, was mostly pit toilets, and they didn't allow alcohol?! I don't remember seeing that on the website. We went ahead and operated under the assumption that no one would care as long as we didn't bother anyone!

Isn't it strange when the man-made influence becomes so obvious even when you're supposed to be in nature?

 

We did manage to catch a peek of real nature as well. Two little fawns, one quicker than my camera. We didn't see her, but figured the mother must have been there as well.

Another crazy juxtaposition of the quiet and pretty empty forest to the left of the bridge, and a floating redneck trailer park on the right. I totally didn't understand all the people partying on boats...right next to the road. Trust me, you're glad I didn't take a picture.

 

Our exhausted little buddy. He's not been feeling so well lately, so we didn't take a very long walk. Three weeks ago he started not walking on his back leg. We had him examined, but he still wasn't using it after a week and a half. I scheduled an x-ray, so of course he started walking normally again. Luckily I was able to cancel and save a couple hundred dollars, but it would have been nice to get his teeth cleaned while he was knocked out! Oh, the breath! He's still acting sort of off though...I hope he gets better soon!

 This last one is a joke for those who know and love him - the breaker of all the things struck again! He's lashing together his folding chair with string. I guess it was "time for it to break." In the interest of full disclosure, the chairs cost about $7 each a few years ago, and the fabric on mine MAY have also ripped that weekend. I still maintain he must have sat in mine too!