Lady Adventure

Every Little Thing She Does Is Not Magic

I had a week off this week and I did lots of exciting things. For a start, I emptied my side of our too-small wardrobe and finally came to terms with the fact that I am now two sizes bigger than I was before I met my husband. Coincidence? I think not. In any case, I have virtuously parted with these items of clothing, having finally realised that I will not be fitting back into them any time soon.

I also have been experiencing a kind of schizophrenic crafting dilemma - I simultaneously have no interest in actually making anything, while being full of ideas about stuff I could make. The problem is, when I start to experiment with something, it doesn't go the way I want it to ... and then I get disheartened and cross. This doesn't happen to me very often: I usually get really stubborn and cranky and power on, till the offending item is finished and then I realise that I do quite like it, actually. but this week has seen me tossing stuff aside, willy-nilly. After seven days of the blahs, I have a bunch of started projects that I don't want to finish.

Witness my madness, readers:

A crazy patchwork Klimt blanket to use up a stack of random squares in autumnal colours. Now I've run out of squares and I don't feel like finishing it. It just sits in my workbasket and laughs at me.



Hexagons in pretty shades of turquoise and spring green and powder pink and chocolate brown. Goodness knows how many I'd need to make to make this into a blanket ... for a baby. My head explodes when I think that this could be a full-sized adult blanket. These hexagons are stacked on the table beside me and out of the corner of my eye, I think I can see them sticking up their yarn tails at me in derision.



And experiment disaster: Hey, I thought, wouldn't it be cool if I could make a motif that resembles a peacock feather? So when you sewed them all together, you'd have this amazing blanket that would look like the vivid colours of a peacock. Like this.



And this is what I came up with.


Epic design fail; sulk, sulk, sulk. I don't hear this motif snickering at me because its mockery is drowned out by the laughter of my unsupportive husband.
Back to the drawing board.