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.
video
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.

11 comments:

amy said...

It is unfair. My kids don't sleep enough, but I certainly can't MAKE them. I got a book on this, which was recommended to me as really helpful, and found I was already doing all the "sleep-promoting" tips they listed. My kids have early, regular bedtimes with a predictable before-bed schedule. I don't give them chocolate or soda. And on and on. They just. Don't. Sleep enough. And I am sooooo tired and cranky.

historicstitcher said...

I'm in favor of moving her back to her crib. Tell her that since she won't stay in bed, she can't have a big-girl bed. When she's ready to sleep she can have the bed back.

Removing things they think were permanent changes always works, in my experience!

Kind of like when mine pooped in the potty to get the toy - and I took it away when he went in his drawers the next day. He figured it out, and when he wanted it enough, he got it.

Or maybe I'm just a really mean momma.

PinkPorcupine said...

Considering that I just got a whiny two-year-old asleep myself, I know what you're going though there. But she was pathetically cute! :)
Now to see what I can do about this little eye tick mine gave me...

Anonymous said...

At least you know what to do when she gets too unbearable, pull out the camera.

I'll also vote (for what it is worth since I don't have kids) of putting the crib back. Hopefully you still have it. It is not worth your getting sick over it.

Pam

PS my word is coport. I love these new words.

Alwen said...

:D

Are you sure you don't want to just dye it darker then discharge it?

Emily said...

I'm with the advice to move her back to her crib until she leaves you alone at night. Or maybe just tell her that's what'll happen & see what she does.

I don't have a blog, but I'm spazzing also. I only get an hour or so a day to knit (if I'm lucky) and my hopes for gifts is quite unrealistic.

She really was adorable! What a hoot!

Amy Lane said...

Dude, I haven't slept in my own bed with ONLY my husband in a continuous night for three years. We gave up. The goombahs climb in with us at dark:thirty a.m., and we make room in the middle. We're weak, but we're sort of awake.

Mandy said...

Re: The little waxing doohickey (that is a technical term, you know. We used to use it at work all the time for those plastic loops you attach tags with, as in "Will you had me some doohickeys, please?" "Do you need big doohickeys, or little doohickeys?" And we always got what we needed.) Anyway, it might be easier (although, now I think about it, maybe not at this time of year) to find one of the ones used for Ukrainian Easter egg decorating. Would that work? Or does that kind not hold enough wax? Just a though.

I also vote for going back to the crib if possible. Unless she had started climbing out of the crib, 'cause that's dangerous. In that case, give her melatonin before bed, and see if that makes her fall asleep better (my pediatrician recommended it, since my son has decided that staying up all night reading is okay, and then he's a cranky mess the next day. Works like a charm.).

Bells said...

True story: I hit play on the video and at the sound of it, Sean, sitting elsewhere in the room said, 'Is that the Goober?' And we both pissed ourselves. Funny kid. Funny mother for putting it on the net.

Barbara said...

I just had a brainstorm. Get the Goober an alarm clock with big numbers. Teach her to tell the time that she is allowed out of bed. Tell her she can play QUIETLY in her room but can not wake you or Dad. Might work.

Louiz said...

We used star charts to keep Kathryn in her bed - it took about three weeks, and there is backsliding, but it worked, for us.