There are times when life slips into a comfortable routine of housework, home schooling and craft projects. The cliched calm before the storm. It’s amazing how one early morning phone call can shatter that lull and change the course of things.
My grandmother died.
During the drive to Utah for her funeral, I thought a lot about the woman that gave birth to my father. How she used to collect rocks, her eyes constantly combing the landscape for treasure, and how her cooking brought an ever bickering family to her table, putting pettiness on hold if only for a moment. It is for this talent, I should be most grateful, as she taught my mother to cook when my parents first got married, leading to a childhood of such wonderful food.
My grandma had the kind of talent that hid easily, too shy to come out often. The sort that yielded and allowed the talent of others to shine brighter than her own. She was a poet, though not in the same award winning, book publishing way her husband was. Her outgoing spirit was her music, though she didn’t sing or play guitar like my father or some of his siblings. I’ve learned that she enjoyed playing the organ, though I don’t recall ever hearing her do so.
As a part of discovering my own crafty roots, I contemplated my grandmother a lot. My thoughts drifted back to those rocks she loved to collect from the different places she visited. During my short stay in Utah for the funeral, I observed those family members that I hadn’t seen in many years, and it occurred to me. We are her craft, each unique individual talented in his or her own way, all a part of her, the woman we descended from. We are grandma’s rocks, collected and cherished, hand picked and adored.
Her house was a place of laughter and conversation, a place of home cooked meals, and delightful desserts. I will cherish this compilation of memories and forever feel blessed to have known such a woman as her. She has hand spun these colorful memories, just for me. They are as varied and textured as those little rocks I have taken to collecting, sitting in a glass bottle in my window sill.

I set up a booth at a flea market yesterday (Saturday) and wow, what a long day that was! I love all my shows, even the less successful ones…but this one just seemed more tiring then most. This is a monthly flea market, so I have the opportunity to sell there often, but I’ll have to give it some more thought. Anyway, here’s my booth:

I finally went out and bought a couple of twin sheets to use to cover my table…I thought the bright pink worked well. I’m thinking that the rest of my summer shows, I’ll probably just bring soap…because that’s all I sold yesterday, and I think that trend will continue until Fall. Anyway, I did get some business cards handed out and a few new people signed up for my newsletter. I even got a small customer order…so all in all, the day wasn’t all bad…just a lot of boring down time. Hopefully the next time is a bit better!

Knit, purl, knit, purl…
This has become my mantra during long winter nights while dreaming of spring. The needles are my evening companions, a metronome ticking off the seconds, minutes, hours.
I wonder about my creative past. Where did such a passion come from? Am I a blessed individual, able to find joy with a string and a couple of sticks, or a mere victim of winter boredom?
My earliest memories of crafting are of my mother, a Caroline Ingalls, of sorts. I remember the scream of the sewing machine during long December nights, a rush to prepare for Christmas. The joy of unwrapping handmade clothes and dolls and of having a mother who loved me enough to craft for me, to create, to put a small piece of her soul into a tangible object, just for me.
I was seven years old when she taught me to crochet.  I remember the awkward hours of lazy, lopsided chain stitches coming off the hook by the slow mile, too afraid to move onto more complicated stitches, yet unsure of what to do with four football fields worth of tangled yarn. I’d study my older sister, new to crochet herself, who dared to graduate to single crochet, as she struggled with a pink rectangle of stitches that looked more like a rhombus than anything. I envied the courage it took to move on beyond the safety of what was known and journey to what seemed like certain failure. That little pink rectangle went on to become a blanket for a stuffed cat named Lloyd, his red and white polka dotted bow tie hidden beneath the crocheted fabric.
After a few failed afghan attempts and sorry looking Christmas gifts, I left crochet behind, abandoning it utterly. I didn’t pick it up again for nearly fifteen years.
Pregnant with my daughter, I felt the urge to crochet again, to turn pastel yarn into a blanket for my little one. The stitches formed easily enough as if no time had gone by at all and I sat reunited with the love of crafting, turning nothing into something.
Knitting came later, while living in Washington.  Hundreds of miles from home, with no friends or TV, I found myself facing an enemy I’d never met before. Loneliness.
One day while shopping at the Goodwill near my apartment, I saw a pair of size two knitting needles and scooped them up. Next, I found a book on knitting that had detailed instructions with pictures. Not far away a bag of musty yarn waited to be adopted.
I obsessed over this new craft for weeks, until I was comfortable forming the stitches, using a combination of knit and purl to make interesting textures.
A few years later, I moved back home and shared knitting with my sister. She now has an unconditional love with the needles and constantly amazes me with her creations. She has made many things for me and my family, including dolls and stuffed animals for my daughter, a sweater vest for my son, gloves for my husband, as well as hats and scarves for me.
The truth is, yarn ties us together.  It connects us in some cosmic way, whether it’s a mother and her daughters, two sisters, or a group of ladies in a knitting circle. I smile every time I see my daughter tucking in her dolls with the baby blanket I made so long ago, and I know that these ties are permanent and never ending, longer even than that first lazy crocheted chain, crafted with my seven-year-old hands.

I was quite pleased with how my last booth looked and wanted to show it off. This was taken at the church yard sale where I had a soap table. The pictures aren’t great as I took them on my cell phone, but hopefully the awesomeness shows through!

Anyway, I will be setting up at a flea market in a couple weeks and hope to have a good looking booth there too.

For those who don’t know all the knit and crochet lingo, a WIP is a work in progress. I’m currently working on two scarves and finally got some pictures of them so I can show them off! I’ve been working on the red lace scarf for awhile, and I love this lace pattern! It’s called alternating leaves. The purple one is knit on huge needles with a boucle yarn. The color is amazing as it changes very subtly from light to dark purple. I’ll show them off again once they’re finished!

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Last night was my turn to take care of the kids at Bible study…I planned to have the younger kids watch Spongbob, while the older kids played with polymer clay. However, my daughter Chloe was the only kid that showed up. So her and I had a blast watching Mr. Squarepants and making clay beads. Chloe says she wants to make a necklace with her beads and sell it. I kind of worry about this attitude, as I’d like her to fall in love with a craft before she decides to make money at it. I don’t want her to only do it for cash. Maybe I’ll encourage her to give her creations away as gifts (or keep them) for awhile. Anyway, here’s our pretty beads! The bright pink ones are hers and the soft pink and green ones are mine.

I’ve been busy getting soap and chapstick packaged up and ready to sell tomorrow at the Richfield Community Church yard sale in Richfield, Idaho. I’m not expecting high sales, but am looking forward to visiting and handing out business cards!

I’m also researching craft fairs and flea markets in the area and plan to do a lot more of them this year than I did last year. I’m excited because I absolutely love doing shows! They give me a chance to socialize and talk about my craft as well as (hopefully) make a little extra money.

I also just bought the book, “The Handmade Marketplace” which gives a lot of great information about selling handmade items. It’s very helpful! I hope to do a review of it when I’m finished and post it here.

Anyway, that’s my latest update!