Welcome to my blog! This is a sketch book of things I'm drawing, photographing, writing, or just thinking about when I'm not busy designing fabric.
wendyslotboom@gmail.com
www.inthebeginningfabrics.com
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It all started when someone thought I was on Twitter, when I wasn’t. There is someone on Twitter with my exact same name, but she isn’t me. So, there was this really minor issue of mistaken identity and I thought the easiest thing to do would be to sign up for Twitter, and then there would be two of us with my (our) name on Twitter, and anyone looking for one of us could pick the one they were looking for, and everything would be great.
In fact, things started out pretty well. I got an account. I was wendyslotboom. I had 0 followers. I followed 0. I had 0 updates. There was a zen-like purity to those three zeroes.
But there was also that empty text box with “140″ hovering near it. “Say something,” it beckoned.
But what? What could I say in 140 characters? And who am I saying it to? Do I just start talking in the dark?
Suddenly, lines from “Convoy” started emerging deep from my subconsciousness.
“Breaker One-Nine!”
That would be a good tweet.
“Negatory Pig-Pen.”
That’ll win me some followers.
“This here’s the Rubber Duck on the side!”
There’s a little warning buzz in my head, but does that stop my train of thought? No.
“Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy!”
Yeah! And we’re rockin’ on through the night.
Hey, what’s this?! There’s a disturbance in the field. There is suddenly a number one where there had been a zero. Just by the act of thinking about “Convoy” posts, I’ve attracted a follower! Who could it be?
It’s…green_turd?
And he/they/it has tweeted about a cell-phone offer? Like…they think I need a cell-phone?
I don’t need a cell-phone! I’ve got a CB radio! I’ve got a convoy! Man! This green_turd person doesn’t get me at all!
Suddenly I recognized that Twitter might not be bringing out the best in me. What would be worse? Someone mistaking another (normal) Twitterer for me? Or someone finding the actual me on Twitter and discovering that I’m a crazy woman channeling C.W. McCall?
So I deleted my account. Goodbye, Twitter. Can I just say…you know where to find me. I’m “‘Bout a mile outta Shaky-Town!” (Not really.) That’s all. 10-7.
Tomorrow (June 26) will be Toby’s 8th anniversary of living with us. (He’s approximately 10 years old.) Usually when Toby’s anniversary rolls around, he gets a special dinner, and he puts up with me singing Happy Birthday, and…that’s about it.
But this year, he gets dinner, a song, and a brand new collar. I found this collar at Comfy Collars and had to buy it. (If you click on that link, or this one, you can see a picture of Toby looking intently out the window.) The collar is made from my Feathered Friends fabric, which Toby doesn’t much care about, and it’s as comfortable as the name implies, which is important to Toby. Plus, there’s a “LOVE” charm on it which pretty much says it all.
On a sad note, what Toby doesn’t have this anniversary — which he’s had each of the past seven years — is his buddy Simon at his side, sharing the celebration meal. Simon died on May 31. There’s a memorial to him at our veterinarian hospital’s website. Simon was with us for almost 18-1/2 years and we love him very much. We all miss him.
Wednesdays are UFO Days
I decided to pick just one of the felted clutches from last Wednesday’s post, and then work toward finishing it. The instructions for the clutch say to put in a zipper, add a felted bobble (I forgot to make that part), and then…it’s done! (There are instructions for making this clutch in an 8-page booklet by Pick Up Sticks! I tried to find this exact pattern on their website, but didn’t see it. This one and this one are similar though.)
So, I could go in that direction. (Plan A.)
OR. I could decide that what this clutch needs is some lining fabric. How about a Kaffe Fassett print? From 2001 (practically vintage). And then maybe I could sew on a little yo-yo, rick-rack, button embellishment. It probably wouldn’t hurt to add some beads, and perhaps some embroidery. And a strap…and…and…and… (Plan B.)
Plan A? Plan B? Decisions, decisions.
(Wow. These are seriously awful photographs. Makes me yearn for a Plan C.)
As I mentioned way back here, Penny (remember Penny?) has a pet. Here he is. He’s a Siberian Husky/Malamute mix, which means he is uniquely suited to accompany Penny to the arctic. He hasn’t been to the arctic yet, though, and it’s too early to tell if he shares Penny’s passion for saving the polar bears.
His name is Jack. Unfortunately, Penny has an obnoxious neighbor who says things like: “Hey! How’s the Jackster? I bet he doesn’t know Jack! Ha ha!” That gets pretty old, but other than that, Jack has a good life.
Important Update: I outlined Penny’s story here, but Tom has since persuaded me that the Humvee driver did indeed die. Penny doesn’t have the power to thaw, Tom says. If her power is to freeze, she’s unlikely to have the opposite power as well. Which means that, when Penny was 5 or 6, she killed a man. That’s a pretty terrible burden to live with…no wonder she sits on her couch and stares into space.
Hmm. Where to go next? There’s still the mysterious other barista at the coffee shop. And where did Penny’s superpower come from anyway? Have her parents come to tragic ends? (Who do you absolutely not want to be in a comic book? The parents or guardian of the superhero.) And Tom has just looked over my shoulder and told me that Penny doesn’t look like a superhero. Well, neither does Clark Kent! Duh! Wait until she transforms.
This is Toby’s fallback position, in case the Sous Chef thing doesn’t work out.
Wednesdays Are UFO Days
Wasn’t it kind of obvious that the whole Wednesday Barbecue thing couldn’t last? Part of me wants to go back to the Wednesday Dog. Just last night I saw the cutest beagle. And of course I took a picture.
But another part of me thinks I should move forward. So. UFO Wednesday. This might work, because it’s such a flexible concept. First, pictures of Unidentified Flying Objects. That could be really exciting. I have, in my fertile imagination, already jumped ahead to my first siting, and the possible moral dilemma involved. Would it be o.k. to immediately post the UFO photo to my blog? Or would it be my duty as a citizen to report it to NASA first? Hmm. I’m quite sure that NASA would love to hear from me.
In the absence of that kind of UFO, I could focus on UnFinished Objects, those sidelined projects that haunt most of us who make things. For instance, here’s a bunch of what are supposed to be felted, zippered clutches. I finished the knitting and the felting and then…nothing. Part of the problem is that I started thinking it’d be just as easy to make nine clutches as one clutch. But really, all I ended up with are nine UFOs instead of one. All needing zippers. And NASA? They just don’t care.
P.S. In response to last Wednesday’s Barbecue, Sketchy correspondent B. wrote, “It’s Ferdinand??? No bullfight, no barbecue!” I love The Story of Ferdinand. So, the tiny little steer, who is perhaps Ferdinand, doesn’t need to worry. No bullfight, no barbecue. Instead, he’s hanging out on my desk with other tiny little things.
I had a vague idea, mentioned here, that it would be cool to combine all sorts of things (yo-yos, rick-rack, beads, buttons) in one small project. This idea hung out in the back of my mind until finally, last weekend, I made this small pin and everything went exactly as I had planned. I was astonished. Usually, there’s some element in a project that sounds good in theory, but in practice explodes all of your hopes and dreams.
It would probably be bad for my character development if all of my projects went this smoothly but, man, did it feel good, just this once.
Project this-and-that. Because some people like to know these things!
Components: 1 cat button, 1 yo-yo, 1 scrap of vintage rick-rack, seed beads, a sprinkling of other beads, 2 wool felt circles, 1 plastic circle cut from yogurt-container lid (used for stiffener between 2 felt circles), embroidery thread, and a 1-1/4″ pin back. Finished diameter of pin: 2-5/8″. Length (dangling beads included): 6″.
So, I’m interrupting the general goofiness on this site for an actual fabric-related announcement. For anyone looking for quilt ideas using my Lily Pond collection, check out the Summer 2009 issue of Fabric Trends! The magazine has complete instructions for making the quilt shown here and, if you’re interested in a kit, both the magazine and the Fabric Trends website have kit ordering information. This is my favorite of the quilts I’ve designed for the Lily Pond collection. The version here is a “virtual” quilt, made on my computer, and I really wish an actual quilt just like it would magically appear on my bed.
Dear Hyatt,
I saw your ad for the Sous Chef position, and I have the perfect candidate for you. Here are some of the requirements you listed (followed by Toby’s qualifications):
• Assume the role of liaison between all departments within the culinary division and all other hotel departments. (Toby routinely liaises between departments and floors. Stairs are not a problem. If the elevators all have stools placed by the controls, Toby can operate them with ease.)
• Supervise the preparation and cooking of various food items. (You call that work?!)
• Strong training and communication skills. (Limited vocabulary does not hamper Toby’s ability to communicate. He is a natural-born leader.)
• 2 years experience in managing a culinary team preferred. (Toby has 7+ years experience managing his current team.)
Toby can be contacted through this site’s email, should you wish to schedule a job interview with him. Thank you for your time.
Wednesdays Are Barbecue Days
So, in response to my changing themes from the Wednesday Dog to the Wednesday Barbecue, B. emailed:
“Hot Dog! I mean, when you are talking Wednesdays and barbecue…what’s not doggish about this?”
That connection hadn’t even occurred to me, which just shows, I guess, the miniscule territory that barbecue occupies in my brain.
Speaking of miniscule, what’s that hanging out in the pea-patch? It’s a tiny little steer! He better hope there’s not a tiny little barbecue in his future.