tradition

Once upon a time a mother passed along her holiday cooking traditions to her daughter, and she to her daughter, and so on, and so on ...

I'm sure it still works that way in many, if not most families. Not in mine. Yesterday, Ian learned the fine art of matzoh-ball making from his father. Here they are, in our itty-bitty-city kitchen; Charles is tutoring Ian in the fine art of creating a just-right ball (not too hard, not too fluffy).

When I was Ian's age, I asked my mother to teach me how to make matzoh balls.

"You follow the recipe on the box," she told me. "Just put in enough matzoh meal so they feel right."

"But how will I know when they feel right?" I asked her.

Her answer? "You'll just know."

I have to say, not only did Ian's and Charles' feel right, they tasted pretty right, too. And so, while I may not have been the one to pass on this tradition, at least it's being passed along. 

On the other hand, I lead the seder when it's at my house. So I do pass along traditions, even if they're not of the cooking kind.

just a hat

It's just a hat. A $3.00 hat from the 99 Cent store. And yet, it's become the most coveted object in my home.

In theory, it's Ian's hat. When he wears it, he's Mr. Cool Dude, or "MisterI," as he's named himself (said out loud, it's "Mystery"). 

Clearly, my kid knows how to rock a hat. But everything is fluid in this household, including clothes and accessories. I've been known to borrow Charles' longjohns for winter hiking; Charles takes my scarves and backpacks; Ian steals my moccasins, and Seth ... well, Seth wants whatever belongs to his brother.

When Seth puts on the hat, he's a cowboy. He gallops around the house, yelling "Yee-haw!" (as any good cowboy does), and "Look, Mommy! I'm a cowboy! See my cowboy hat?"

When I ask him "Isn't that Ian's hat?" he replies, "No, Mommy. It's a cowboy hat. I'm a cowboy. It's my hat." (I like the logic there.)

So ... just a hat? No way. In this house, it's a gateway to a world of cowboys and cool dudes. We really should fork over the three bucks and buy a second one, don'tcha think?

our house is a very, very, very knit house

Here is the most amazing video: it's been making the rounds of Ravelry and YouTube. In this commercial for natural gas, some Belgian advertising agency has created the house of every knitters' dreams... My younger son is in love with the video; I've got it saved on my desktop, and when he wants to watch it he asks to see the "yarn shower."

If you're wondering how the hell they did that, there's also a short video on YouTube that chronicles "The Making of Natural Gas." (And isn't that a great title?)

It seems that to make this video, all the knitting was done in advance, then UNRAVELED! in front of the cameras. The unraveling was filmed in stop-action shot by shot to get the amazing visual of the house being covered in knitting first thing in the morning.

While part of me cringes at the idea of so much knitting being destroyed for a 30-second spot, another part of me is tickled by the idea that some knitters actually got paid by an ad agency for their "humble little handicrafts."

whose scarf is it anyway?

I've posted my first pattern ... woo-hoo! It's called the Simplest Seed Stitch Scarf Ever, because it's ... well ... just about the simplest seed stitch scarf ever. It's truly a beginner level scarf, and a beginner level pattern. If you're just learning how to knit, this is the scarf for you.

I designed and knit this scarf for DH last winter, after he managed to lose three different store-bought scarves. I thought if he had a handmade scarf, he'd be more careful with it.

What I didn't count on was my older son's acquisitive nature, and his wile. As we got ready for school one wintry day last year, I noticed him wrapping the scarf around his neck.

"Isn't that Dad's?" I asked him.

"Well, he just left it laying around, so I took it," Ian replied.

"Where was it 'just laying around'?" I asked.

"On top of Dad's jacket," was the answer.

It seems Charles had switched to a warmer jacket and a balaclava that morning, so Ian figured the scarf was up for grabs. But Charles didn't seem to mind, and Ian wore the scarf all winter, so everybody won. Plus, having borrowed it myself, I can be totally honest when I say in my pattern that it looks good on men, women, and children!

g is for gift

My birthday was last week. My husband gave me a beautiful card and what he called a "token" gift: a bottle of very nice zinfandel. He definitely gets points for knowing my favorite wine, as well as for trying to buy the label I prefer, even if it wasn't to be found in our neighborhood.

But to be honest, I feel like a bottle of wine is the kind of gift you give to a date you're hoping to get lucky with; not the kind of present you offer to your wife of nearly 17 years. Not to say that the wine wasn't lovely. It's just not a gift that says, "I love you honey, and I really appreciate you bearing my two children, not to mention all these years you've spent picking up my dirty underwear from the bedroom floor."

No, to say all that, you've got to give something a little more meaningful. A little more permanent.

So I took matters into my own hands.

Just about this time last year, Charles and I lost our camera. Not surprisingly, we don't agree on how that happened. We had gone to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens with friends, then Charles dropped me and my girlfriends off at a restaurant and took the kids home. I could have sworn I left the camera in the trunk of the car; he's positive I took it into the restaurant with me. (It's a real possibility that we left it sitting on top of the trunk.) Either way, we never saw it again, and we've spent the past year sans camera. I've been taking most of my pictures on my cell phone, which may be convenient, but it's hardly high quality.

So I told Charles that he would be buying me a new camera as a birthday gift, and then I went and picked it up for myself. I'm very pleased with my new Nikon CoolPix. I've never had a point-and-shoot before, being kind of a DSLR snob. But this little camera is sweet. It cost nearly nothing, since it's a (gasp!) 2009 model. It's tiny and weightless, and slips right into the front pocket of my bag. And it's a cool race car red. Oh, yeah, it takes pretty good pictures too.

Now I feel like I got a meaningful gift. The gift of recording the significant and trivial events in my family's lives. The gift of logging my crafting successes and failures. The gift of sharing these moments with my friends and family. And the gift of feeling empowered. All this in a 3-ounce piece of fiberglass and electronics. Not too shabby.

f is for ...

First group of swatches. Fourth attempt. Finished. Finally.

It took 4 tries, but I'm finally satisfied with the first four swatches I did for the Master Hand Knitter course. I switched yarn three times, changed needle size twice, and tried two different blocking methods. But I finally have something I'm comfortable sending in to the experts for their critique, and now I can move on to the next group of swatches.

Will I be touching these four samples again before I send my package out? As they say here in Brooklyn, fuhgeddaboutit.

e is for error

I love knitting and I love making jewelry, so I've been planning on knitting bangle bracelets ever since I saw some in Vogue Knitting's 2008 Holiday issue. The only thing is, I've been too cheap, or too lazy, to order bracelet blanks to wrap the knitting around.

Well, lo and behold, Susan Hajjar has a simple bangle bracelet pattern on Ravelry that uses plastic bottles as the bracelet form! (She's also posted a tutorial on her blog, unikatissima's compilation of tutorials.) Brilliant.

Finally, I have a way to create my bracelet blank on the cheap, a method that also allows me to feel good and green. Putting my knowledge of jewelry-making to work, I sized the plastic ring to slip over my knuckles, knit up my strip, sewed it onto the form, slipped it over my wrist, and ...

Whoa! Way too big. (Unless I didn't mind how it slipped off my wrist every time I lowered my hand.)

So what's a knitter to do? My husband suggested I unravel the knitting, cut down the plastic form and start again. That's definitely a logical suggestion; a viable way to go. I opted for this instead:

A crown for Seth's backup bunny. After all, White Bunny Rabbit is prince of the stuffed animals. (Black Bunny Rabbit is King. But he already has his own lovely paper bag hat that Charles fabricated at dinner the other night.)

When it comes to my knitting, I don't like to think of things like this as errors. I'd rather view them as tiny little lemons, waiting to be made into lemonade.

danger: airborne children

As we've been doing for the past month or so, BFF and I headed over to the library this Saturday for our weekly knitting circle. When we got there, we found out our room wasn't available, because someone had thrown a rock through a window and it wasn't fixed yet. (God forbid they should have called me with a head's up.)

There are currently only four of us who show up regularly for this little group, so we decided the day was nice enough (70 degrees, cloudless sky) to tote our knitting to a nearby park and knit outside.

Here are Ellen, Ronni (aka: BFF) and Midge, enjoying the fresh air and good yarn. (Of course you don't see me. I'm behind the camera. Or the cell phone, in this case.) The other thing you don't see in this picture is the merry-go-round that was about 6 feet in front of us.

It was empty when we first got to the park, but it eventually became covered with crazed children. I mean, those kids were using that thing like a weapon: spinning it faster than it was ever meant to go, then deliberately letting go and launching themselves into space. (And often toward us. The benches you see behind the merry-go-round were the ones we were sitting on. See how close we were sitting?)

Fortunately, none of the kids actually broke a bone (although it really sounded like they would), and none of them actually came into contact with any of us, but if they had, we were ready. After all, as long as we've got our knitting bags, knitters are fully armed. We've got those wonderful pointy, metal sticks, and we know how to use 'em.

d is for diet

And also for "don't need it."

Since I started working on the Master Hand Knitter course, I've lost 4 pounds without even trying. I'm so obsessed (yes, I will admit it) that I've got sticks and wool in my hands every spare moment, as well as during some moments I shouldn't be sparing. If my hands are filled with needles, they don't have room to be filled with chocolate.

The photo above was taken from the requisite monthly diet article in the April 2010 issue of Glamour, but honestly, it could have come from any women's magazine, couldn't it?

Here is my alternative to the same old diet story. I call it ...

4 Knitting Ways to Lose 4 Pounds

1. Stick to it. Knit the same swatch three times trying to make consistently sized stitches.
2. Add steps to your day. Leave your unblocked swatches on a shelf that you thought was out of your kids' reaches. Look for swatches when you're ready to start blocking, only to find they're gone. Get 20 minutes of calisthenics searching for the missing swatches.
3. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Block your first four swatches, then photograph them, only to realize that the work was not nearly as good looking as you first thought. Knit swatches a 4th time.
4. And of course, take in fewer calories. Get so absorbed in getting it right this time, you totally forget to eat dinner. (I swear, this actually happened to me this week. And I am someone who never, absolutely ever forgets to eat.)

Not necessarily so quick and easy. But my weight-loss strategy, which I think I'll call the Obsessive-Compulsive Knitter's Diet, is effective anyway.

c is for calculator

I am working on The Knitting Guild of America's Master Hand Knitter course right now, which basically involves knitting swatch after swatch after swatch after swatch after ... well, you get the idea. It's a shipload of swatches.

Swatches 1, 2, 3, and 14 have to be knit on the same needles, using the same yarn so that you can compare the stitch and row gauge of different pattern stitches. (For those of you who don't knit, that means how many stitches and how many rows it takes to fill a specific measurement, i.e.; 4 stitches to the inch.) 

In order to be as specific as possible, you've got to measure to an eighth of an inch, then divide that into how many stitches or rows you've knit. You wind up getting a number with a gazillion decimal places. Then you've got to multiply that number by either 18 or 10, to determine how many stitches you'd need to make an 18" wide sweater piece, or how many rows you would have to knit to make your knitting 10 inches high.

I don't know about you, but multiplying 6.288888x18 is not my idea of a fun mental exercise. Ergo (I just love that word!), my calculator has become my new BFF. And seeing as how I'm only on Level I of three levels, I suspect the two of us will be joined at the hip for a long, long time.

no doubt about it. passover's coming.

On Thursday, Seth asked me to make him some popcorn. I told him I'd make it for him after his nap. It seems that was not the right answer. Seth informed me that if I didn't make him popcorn before his nap, he would punish me. (Yes, that is the word he used.)

I was curious. "What kind of punishment will you give me?" I asked him, expecting him to say he would send me to my room for X minutes (which is the only "punishment" he's ever received).

"Sick cows and frogs," he answered.

I made him popcorn before naptime. I mean, I couldn't have him going all biblical on my butt.

b is for books

I'm trying to catch up on an ABC-Along that I found on Ravelry. Every two weeks, you post a picture on your blog of something that has meaning to your life, corresponding to successive letters in the alphabet.

Well, the ABC-Along started in January, so I'm a little behind. Between now and March 26th, I've got to get up to "E".

Here's my entry for "B". It shows about a third of my knitting and crocheting book collection:

In my mother's day, you went to the yarn store, picked out a sweater you liked, and got handwritten instructions or a poor-quality photocopy to bring home. Knitters who were willing to shell out a few more bucks had a fairly limited choice of magazines and pamphlets.

But today, the sky's the limit. Go to amazon.com, plug in the word "knitting" in the Books category and 9,481 results pop up. There are pattern books, technique books, stitch dictionaries, essay books, fiction centering on knitting, knitting calendars ... it's enough to make your head spin.

My husband thinks I have way too many books. He doesn't have a clue how bad it could really be.

even fraggles knit

Remember Fraggle Rock? Those little guys from the 1980s were clearly related to the other muppets in looks and parentage (they all sprang from the genius of Jim Henson). But Fraggles were somehow more edgy, more hip, more ... twisted.

This little clip has been making the rounds of Facebook and YouTube. It's the time of the Great Radish Famine, and the industrious Doozers (those busy little builders) are facing a crisis of epic proportion: with no radishes, they can't make Doozer Sticks, which are their chosen building material.

Now they're unemployed, faced with economic extinction and the loss of their society as they know it (sound familiar?). So what do they do? Why, they take up knitting, of course. Unfortunately, the Doozers don't really love the knitting. Me? I'd be happy to trade in my job and spend the whole day knitting if I thought I could get away with it.

Enjoy the video.

a is for afghan

I've been knitting for about 10 years now, and something I've never tackled is an afghan. Sure, I've made baby blankets (both knit and crochet), but those are relatively small. And we all know by now that I'm not one for the long-term projects. A whole afghan? That's big. That's a major knitting commitment.

But I may have finally found a way to make that afghan happen. Ravelry's 2010 Knit Block-a-Month Knit-Along group. Yeah, I know. It's quite a mouthful. But in terms of finishing an afghan, it's really lots of little bites.

Each month a block designed by Lorene Haldeman is posted on the group page. They're small blocks (about 10-12 inches square). So they're fast! (I've been able to knock out each block in one to two evenings.) And easy! (Each month is supposed to get progressively more difficult.) And educational! (Twelve new patterns in a year ... not bad.)

Since my blocks are coming out on the small size, I'm actually going to knit eight extra blocks so I can have a real "snuggle-under" afghan at the end of the year. Well, actually at the end of the year, I'll have 20 single blocks. I guess 2011 will be all about piecing them together.

favorite (fictional) knitters, part II

Good old Marge Simpson. Kind, loving, loyal. Patient to the point of ridiculousness. How she puts up with her oaf of a husband and her very "special" son is anyone's guess. (Although she is certainly inspirational to all of us who have gifted but challenging kids.)

Marge is every-woman; every-mom. She's suburban America personified: baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and probably Chevrolet. Or is she?

Did you know that Marge was the cover girl for Playboy magazine's November 2009 issue? That not only makes her the first cartoon character to appear on the iconic magazine's cover, but one of the rare middle-aged mothers to do so as well.

In her magazine spread, Marge reveals a saucier, sexier side. (And a far curvier body than one would expect under that green dress and ladylike pearls.)

Good old Marge. An excellent reminder that you can be on the far side of (oh, let's say 35 for kicks); you can sport a blue beehive and drive a station wagon; you can even knit like someone's granny; but you're still vital and full of surprises.

public enemy number 1

Some radical knitter has the town of West Cape May, NJ in a dither. This knitting terrorist is being referred to by residents as "The Midnight Knitter" and she (or he) has been skulking around after dark, encasing trees in colorful little sweaters. The news is apparently so big that it's been published in papers all the way over in Finland. Oh my!

The act is officially known as "Yarn Bombing." Some call it "Knitting Graffiti," and one clever Ravelry poster referred to it as "Yarndalism." Last year, the parking meters along Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights were wrapped in these colorful knit cozies. That, though was municipally approved. The Brooklyn project was led by Texas artist Magda Sayeg, who has created such installations across the globe. She, however, is not the one responsible for the West Cape May yarndalism.


West Cape May law enforcement is not amused by the sweaters, and the police there are steadfastly trying to find the guerilla stitcher. You see, this act is technically against the law as it is being committed on public property without permission.


Discussion on a Ravelry thread about this phenomenon has more than 100 posts, mostly supporting the whimsical garments. There is one detractor, however, who is passionately decrying the art as threatening the long term health of the trees. (C'mon, really?)


I've got to say, maybe we should all consider moving to West Cape May, NJ. Here in New York City we live under a perpetual Orange Alert, with police posted at every bridge and tunnel entrance to ensure that explosives are not transported across the boroughs. We lock our car doors and our house doors and don't buzz people into our buildings unless we know without a shadow of a doubt exactly who they are. But in West Cape May, NJ, the biggest threat to public safety seems to be a knitter with a slightly warped sense of humor.

science fair project

Statement of Purpose: To what uses will a trifold board be put other than those for which it is intended?

Hypothesis: Given the overwhelming choice of real toys in my messy household, and the fact that the trifold board is actually earmarked for a science fair project, I propose that the board will be pressed into service as a plaything.

Material List: One heavy-duty trifold board; one preschooler; apartment overflowing with toys and games.

Procedures: 

1. Have husband bring home trifold board for 5th grader's science fair project.
2. Leave board inexplicably sitting in the middle of the living room floor for two days.
3. Leave preschooler to his own devices for half an hour.

Results:

Conclusion: Within 10 minutes of being left unsupervised, Seth had enfolded himself within the trifold board. When asked about this, he informed us that he was camping out and this was his tent.

Discussion: No matter how many toys and games a home may have, the kids will always prefer the things they can create themselves.

Credits: Charles, for leaving the trifold board sitting on the floor; Ian for not using it sooner; Seth, for his wonderful imagination.

knitting rorschach, part deux

And the winner is ...

Well, actually no one.

Your guesses, in no particular order, were: a hat to put a pony tail through (I really liked that one); a wine or alcohol bottle keeper; a leg warmer (for some really funky shaped leg); a yoga mat carrier (if it wasn't open on both ends); and a hot water bottle cover (again, only if it had one side closed). Creative ideas, good guesses, but all wrong.

I will admit, the contest wasn't completely fair. Unless you've read Jacqueline Fee's The Sweater Workshop, (which teaches you to make sweaters without using patterns) there's really no way you could have guessed what that object was.

What it is, in fact, is a sweater sampler. Yes, that's right. Not a sweater, but a sampler. Just like those colonial girls' embroidery samplers, only knit. It was a really fun way to learn some new techniques. I have to say, even though I've been knitting for 10 years, I learned something like 13 new techniques, and became much more comfortable with at least 4 others.

So, what are some of the techniques I learned?

How to make a sturdy knit belt and a kangaroo pocket:

How to knit a lace bind-off (or in English, finish knitting the sweater, incorporating lace at the same time), and how to knit a Fair Isle design using two colors, then add a third color after the fact:

How to create textured stripes:

And of course that fun little Pokemon pocket (which was added after the "garment" was complete). That one was the scariest for me, because it meant taking scissors and actually cutting into my finished knitting and trusting that it wasn't going to totally uravel.

So, what am I going to do with it now that it's complete? Unlike those embroidery samplers, it's not really appropriate wall art. And while my kids definitely enjoyed wearing it and using it for basketball practice, I think I've found a more practical use for it. I'm going to add some elastic to the bottom opening, hang it in the kitchen, and call it a shopping bag dispenser.

Of course, now that I've made a sampler, I have to shore up my courage and make an actual sweater. Remember, I'm the queen of hats and neck warmers and other instant gratification knitting projects. And a sweater is no quick-knit. But, armed with all my new knowledge, I'm going to attempt to knit a sweater for Ian without a net (I mean, a pattern). I'll even try to be patient about completing it. Wish me luck.

knitting rorschach

Quick: What is this object?

A Dr. Seuss hat?

A lava lamp cozy?

A Pokemon refuge?

Heh, heh, heh.

I'm not telling yet.

Cast your votes; tell me what you think. I'll let you know in my next post. And if anybody actually gets it right, I'll send you a crocheted-flower ponytail holder as a prize.

ian cooks

Anyone who knows me knows I hate to cook. So maybe it's Ian's survival instinct, or Charles' good influence, but in spite of me, the kid is turning into a chef. The last few days he's been microwaving chicken nuggets (hey, you've got to start somewhere), and cutting up celery for snacks. Ian swears slicing and dicing is easy. And fun.

Okay, I can buy "easy." It's the "fun" part I don't get. I find all that slicing and dicing so unrewarding. I hear that some people find it meditative. And that some get a warm, fuzzy feeling from nourishing their loved ones. I don't. I cook (occasionally), but I don't enjoy it. It just feels like a whole lot of work for something that's gone in a few minutes.

I do like baking, though. I like the smell of baking, the feel of baking, the taste of baked goods. I have baked with Ian since he was small, so maybe I have had a tiny influence on him. But the idea that cutting up celery is "fun"? He sure didn't get that from me.

spring

Ian brought me a pocketful of crocuses yesterday. He picked them on his way home from school, from a mini-garden that someone (perhaps Resurrection Church?) created in one of the little square tree enclosures on the sidewalk next to their parking lot.

Normally, I would admonish him about picking flowers that don't belong to him, but this time my heart wasn't really in it. The little nosegay was so cheerful, such an uplifting sign that spring really is here, and so completely unexpected. I mean, I never get flowers. It was such a loving, sweet - thoughtful - gift, that all I could do was thank him, give him a (really mild) reminder that in the future, flowers should be left to be enjoyed by everyone, and stick them in a jar of water.

a big old yarny mess

My poor husband. He went into the living room Saturday morning, and was practically attacked by the yarn scattered around the room. The basket pictured is just one he filled with knitting detritus. I admit, I'd been working on swatches for The Knitting Guild of America's Master's Level I course until about 3 in the morning, and was not inclined to clean up after myself at that hour.

In my defense, not all of it was mine. Okay, so I am the only one who actually brings yarn and knitting supplies into the house. But once they're here, I'm not the only one who makes use of them. Ian and Seth have found many uses for my skeins. Yarn bombs are a big hit. So are yarn "laser" grids, in which the boys crisscross yarn throughout the house and then shimmy over, under, and around the strands like it's some acrylic-based museum security system. (They're not allowed to use the good stuff.)

So, I repeat, the yarn ... not all mine. The needles on the other hand ...

Charles wants me to sign an affidavit accepting responsibility in advance in the case of his accidental death by knitting needle puncture wound.

cat people

I wasn't raised with cats. I grew up with dogs. And although I've lived with cats for the past 22 years, I'm still getting used to how pushy they are.

When you feed a dog, it follows you to the kitchen, sits patiently, and watches you with hopeful eyes, trusting that you know what you're doing. Not cats. Or at least not my cat.

When Merrie is ready to eat, she gets your attention. I mean, really gets your attention! Whatever you're doing has to stop. Immediately. You're on the computer? She'll climb on the keyboard. You're getting dressed? Kind of hard to do when her claw is caught in your stockings. Sleeping? Not after she starts nipping the soft flesh under your arm.

Once you finally get moving, there is no meek following into the kitchen. Merrie leads. She winds herself around your feet, tripping you and getting herself kicked in the process, but she doesn't care. She's on a mission. There's a meal to be scored.

She guides you to the food, (which is at the opposite end of the kitchen from her bowl), because clearly, as a human, you are too stupid to find it yourself. And while you are ripping open the pouch, or popping open the aluminum top, she is purring like a crazed feline coach: "Faster, quicker, speed it up dummy!" Then you try to actually get her food into the bowl, and it's a miracle you come away with all your fingers intact.

When it comes to cats and food, it makes me wonder why female dogs are the ones referred to as bitches.

"ode to spring": a really, really, really bad poem

This vision right here
is reason to cheer:
Winter is losing its grip on the year.

The snow is melting
And there instead
The crocus shoots up its leafy head.

And although Winter
has yet to pass,
Spring is kicking its icy ass!

But being completely serious ...
Those crocus spears up there? One of the most beautiful sights in the known universe.

meet ian

He's artistic. He's creative. He's obviously too young to grow facial hair. So he improvised. The cool blue soul patch? It's a foam letter "U" from one of Seth's puzzles. A few minutes later, it became a pirate earring.

This is classic Ian. The in-your-face pose. The inside-out t-shirt, because details like putting your clothes on correctly are just too mundane for this kid. That's my boy. That's my Ian.

patience is a virtue

The other day big sis said to me that she wishes she could knit or crochet, but she doesn't have the patience for it. I'm not sure if I responded or not, but I know what I was thinking: I don't have the patience not to knit.

I can't watch TV without doing something else at the same time. I learned a long time ago that unless my hands are busy, they're going to be filled with food, which will then make its way into my mouth and settle permanently on my thighs. I can't stand waiting for Ian to be dismissed, or sitting in a doctor's waiting room without something to do. Reading is one option. Knitting and crocheting is another. 

Last week, I had to attend a terminally boring professional development conference. I used the morning session to catch up on paperwork, and the afternoon session to work out a pattern for a crocheted flower I want to put on a necklace. One of the women sitting at my table got really excited and told me that I need to put flowers like that on pony tail elastics, because she would totally buy them. She said she wears a pony tail every day, and currently spends $12.00 for similar elastics that look cheap and machine made. Looks like my patience for knitting and crocheting (or my lack of patience for attending to nonsense) could serve me well.