Friday, November 07, 2008
Oh yeah. This is gonna suck.
That's the start of the paisley edging on the ten yards of fabric for my sis-in-law. On the right is the fabric with the stencil on it, about 2/3 waxed. On the left is a fondue pot full of wax (shoot me; I had it in the house when the madness hit, I never use it for fondue, and it has a thermostat control). In the middle is a little Indonesian doohicky known as a canting. (Also spelled tiantjing and assorted variations thereof; isn't transliteration fun?)
When I started this batik craziness, I figured the Indonesians had been doing it for hundreds, if not thousands, of years (there's some debate on the history), and instead of re-inventing the process, I'd just do what they did. The canting is a traditional tool, a little copper reservoir with a spout, on the end of a wooden handle. You dip the reservoir into the wax to fill it, and the heat transfer from pool of wax to copper reservoir keeps the wax warm enough to draw with as it comes out the spout. The wood keeps it from burning your hand. Quite a clever little gadget, really; one of those deals that is so simple and well engineered that it's unlikely to be improved upon. (Attempts at electric versions have been made. All agree that they suck.) Sort of like needle and thread, or a loom, or knitting needles - there's nowhere to go with the engineering. (Do not speak to me of light-up knitting needles. Ever.) Anyway, they come in different sizes, and this one is a 2mm, and it's too big. 2mm meaning that's the width of the line it draws on the fabric when you're using it properly. That's why the stenciling came to a screeching halt yesterday; I was actually dug in and ready to get some yardage done. (Incidentally, that stencil is about a foot long. Ten yards of fabric means thirty repeats of that stencil. I've decided not to count, it will just be depressing.)
Last night, I told the husbeast "I need a 1mm canting." He replied "And in English this means...?" "I need a smaller waxing doohicky." Anyway, I can order one from Dharma Trading next payday. Which means another week of not working on the fabric, but I'm not gonna think about it. I can always knit on other presents. Like the shawl. Yay. Ever so much yay.
As of 9:45 AM, Eastern Standard Time, today, I had all the names added to the sidebar for people participating in the spaz-along. If I missed you or if your link doesn't work, let me know. For people without blogs, I linked back to the spaz-along blog entry here, so people could read the comments if they wanted. (It is possible to do a list without links, but it would involve HTML coding from scratch, before noon, with a migraine. So... not happening. Sorry.) I will be starting a group blog for us, likely later today. I'm moving kind of slowly today. As usual.
MY LITTLE MIGRAINE TRIGGER: Yesterday (Wednesday?) the Goob was throwing a tantrum. So I pulled out the camera and thought "I'll videotape this and show it to her prom date." Of course as soon as she heard the camera click on, she began hamming it up and managed to look both pitiful and cute at the same time.
For those needing translation from Whining Kid into English, she's saying "I not say cheese." as in "I'm not posing for a photo for you." It's positively adorable unless you've dealt with the hour-long whinefest that led up to it. (Was it Hitchcock who said movies are like real life, with the boring parts cut out? And a sound track added?)
In all seriousness, it was moving her from her crib to her bed that triggered these migraines. Interrupted sleep just kills me, and she's been regularly waking me up. The first night (three weeks ago tomorrow), she had us up hourly, telling us it was morning. This morning I got up at six in the morning and saw the light on in her room. I went in and she was passed out in bed, surrounded by toys. So at one point in the middle of the night, she got up to play and fell asleep again. I really want to know why SHE doesn't feel like shit. But no. She's rocking and rolling. This strikes me as completely unfair.
at 9:43 AM