Simple

Yesterday I found myself in my local graveyard, sitting on the ground by a mossy tree stump, carefully wrapping tiny wooden dolls in wooly capes and tucking them inside knitted leaves so I could take pretty pictures of them.  And, because brains are tremendous storehouses of every stressful thing that’s ever happened to you, I found myself thinking of a moment at the beginning of eighth grade.

My english teacher (hi Mrs. Bottorff!) called me aside after class and told me that one of my other teachers had warned her that I was simple (her word, not mine) and would never amount to much (apparently doodling on the margins of your notes meant you were doomed to failure, who knew).

For a kid who built a lot of her identity around being smart and good at school, that felt like a slap.  Mrs. Bottorff explained that she knew I was fine, but that being smart only counted if you could convince the folks in charge of you that you were smart.

Now I know what she meant, and I know she was well intentioned.  I even know that there are circumstances where convincing others of your abilities is more important than your actual abilities (infuriating though that is) and maybe it’s a good thing for a kid to learn.

But I also know that my life has gotten better the fewer people I have to convince.  I don’t have to worry about grades these days.  I don’t have a boss.  And I figure all of you folks are a self-selecting bunch and are totally along for the ride.  It’s all really working out rather well.

 

And now for something a bit lighter

I could tell you a story. I could tell you about tiny capes and perfectly shaped hoods and tying tiny bows.

But I’m not going to.  I’m just going to show you these and count on you to imagine it all for yourself.

Because I’m pretty sure you can imagine exactly how adorable these are and how irresistible and how much you just want to cradle them in your hands and make frankly ridiculous cooing noises.  You don’t need me to tell you how it’s done.

What I will tell you is that the pattern is coming soon (later this month).  And that if you want to track down the exact dolls I used, they’re over here (yes, that is totally an amazon affiliate link, if you don’t like those, you can search for peg dolls and you’ll totally find them no problem).  And if you know you’re going to make a whole village of these, you’ll want to start raiding the scraps bin for little balls (~25 yards) of fingering, sport, and dk yarn.

 

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You didn’t think I left the tops open by accident did you

So those leaves? The rainbow mountain of ridiculous leaves? Yeah.  They need something to go in them don’t you think?  Something as absurdly cute and ridiculous as they are?

It seems only reasonable.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

 

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I mean at least it’s seasonally appropriate, right?

Once upon a time there was a knitter with a short attention span.

A short attention span and a fondness for cute things.

If you showed her a cute tiny thing…a thing she could knit in one sitting, she’d be delighted.

She’d knit it again and again and again.

Even if you kind of wished she wouldn’t.

Here we go again

Remember the stash dive the other day? The one that led to a small mountain of fall-colored scraps heaped in a pile in the corner of my office?

Yeah.  Well those little bits of yarn crept up behind me when I wasn’t looking, tripped me, wrestled me into submission, and climbed onto my needles.

This is the start of one of those things.  One of those ridiculous, pointless, all-consuming obsessions that occasionally grips me.

And I mean, the results are never bad.  In the past, these fits have led to hears, stars, acorns, and cupcakes.  All of which have, in turn, led to you folks making mountains of your own little obsessions (which is way more fun to watch than it has any right to be.

But this…this just might reach dangerous levels of cute.  Because we are totally not stopping with leaves.  No, those are just the background…the really cute part is coming after the leaves.

You’ve been warned.  You may want to leave.  Or possibly to find something somber to balance out this ridiculous nonsense.  Because it’s just going to get worse.