In case you should ever need...

...a Cinderella's coach, here's how to make one:

(My niece Cheryl posted on Facebook that she wished she had a Cinderella's coach to use in a "Dresses for Princesses" project that she has started. The small coach would be used as a collection "bowl" for those who choose to donate money toward the cost of drycleaning the fancy dresses donated for her project.)

When I read Cheryl's FB post, I immediately googled "how to make a Cinderella's carriage." As with all topics under the sun, I immediately found directions for just such a thing here.

Then I remembered the two pumpkins stored in our attic.

These two pumpkins have been a nuisance since the day I bought them right after Halloween several years ago. Once I got them home, I realized I had absolutely no way to use them. They're made of a styrofoam substance and are hollow. They're so lightweight that they'd blow away outdoors, if I wanted to set them on our porch at Halloween.

And they're not exactly gorgeous for inside decorating.

 Maybe I could foist at least one of them onto Cheryl, in the guise of a Cinderella coach!

The trick was to convince Ken he wanted to help me with this idea.

I presented the plan, and one of the pumpkins, to him early Saturday morning. I explained why there was a need for a Cinderella coach and why a styrofoam pumpkin would be just the ticket. Then I showed him the website linked above.

Ken didn't resist the idea of helping me create a coach, just as I knew he wouldn't, and before I knew it he was using a knife to carve out the doors and windows of the coach, following the sketches I'd made with a Sharpie onto the pumpkin.

Soon the pumpkin was beginning to look like a Cinderella coach. Now it needed paint. Ken said a can of Rustoleum "covers everything" paint would probably adhere well to the orange pumpkin.

I made a trip to Lowe's, found the paint in an off-white, stopped at ACMoore for gold trimming paint, and headed home.

Ken spray-painted the carriage and we let it dry over night. The next morning I began working on the gold embellishments. Then I waited (im)patiently for the paint to dry.

The wheels were the biggest problem. The website with the directions for this project mentioned using clay, baking it, etc., to end up with "wheels." I wasn't up for that, and neither was Ken.

Soon I heard one of Ken's electric saws whirring away in the basement. Ken had cut four circles for the wheels from some scrap material he's had on hand for years, then he added rods to connect the sets of wheels. I would next added gold paint to create spokes.

Done and delivered. We took the Cinderella coach to Cheryl yesterday morning. She was thrilled with it. She even mentioned, wistfully, that it would be really neat if her daughter, who's getting married next summer, could arrive at the church in a full-sized Cinderella coach.

Now to find a way to get rid of that other pumpkin in my attic. Unfortunately it's too small to hold a life-sized bride.

Sprucing up the fairy house...and some knitting

When Violet visited us in mid-April, one important item on our agenda was to give the little fairy house in my flower garden a good sprucing-up. The heavy winter snows had knocked some parts of it askew, and leaves had blanketed the area since last fall.

Violet immediately set to work getting things in order for the fairies.

The lean-to on the back actually belongs on the right side of the house itself, but we decided not to move it because an interesting tree fungus has started growing on one of the slats, and we didn't want to disturb it.

Violet decided to "pretty up" the area with fresh flowers. The only ones to be had at that time were despicable dandelions, but they did add a touch of color to the house. The violet flowers are silk clusters that had been kept under cover all winter; it was time to bring them back to the fairy house.

Soon Violet was collecting acorn caps and tiny red berries to provide food for the fairies. One acorn cap was designated as a water bowl, so she filled that one with water.

We added wood shavings and twigs to the roof, to give it more interest. A small gnome from WalMart holds a "Welcome" sign to let the fairies know they should feel free to make their home inside the establishment.

Violet and I felt we had done a dandy job of getting the house ready for summer fairies in the garden. She gave me one instruction before she headed home the next day: "Be sure to fill the water bowl each day, Aunt Jean, so the fairies will have plenty of water."

On the knitting front, I've just finished an excruciating project. I knit one of these "Bride's Sachets" or bride's purses four years ago and swore I'd never attempt another. We all know what happens years after we'd sworn to "never again," though.

The little purse is knit on size 1 needles with crochet cotton.

That combination in itself is enough to send me to an early grave, but then there are the directions....

Four years ago I couldn't figure out how to follow the instructions for the leafy edging on the top of the purse. I vowed I'd conquer those instructions this time. I was even encouraged when I noticed a sheet of errata had been published since my first attempt at that edging. Alas, even the corrected instructions couldn't make me understand what I was to do, so I gave up in frustration and ad-libbed a simple crocheted edging. I'm sure the bride-to-be will never realize the edging wasn't part of the original pattern.

And once more I've vowed never again to knit that Bride's Sachet.

But on a happier knitting note, I love knitting the Yankee Knitter Aran cardigan. I've made two adult cardigans, two child cardigans, and two child pullovers with this pattern so far.

Now I've started a size 2 child's cardigan for a little girl named Phoebe.

The pattern is a joy to work with, as are all of Yankee Knitter's designs. It's fun to see the various cables and other features emerge from the yarn as I knit along. I'm having fun with this project.

A fairy house and an Aran cardigan. Both work, as far as I'm concerned.

Counting acorns

Last week was April vacation week for Maine schools, so our great niece Violet requested a sleepover at our house.

More specifically, seven-year-old Violet requested a TWO-night sleepover.

We were happy to accommodate her request. Violet is a delight and we always enjoy her visits.

Soon after she arrived on Tuesday morning, Ken asked her if she'd like to earn a little money.

Violet, of course, said yes.

For the past several days, Uncle Ken had been hard at work raking our lawns from last fall's leaves. That part he doesn't mind terribly, but picking up acorns as he rakes the leaves causes him much stress, not to mention tired muscles.

He told Violet he'd give her 1¢ per acorn if she'd help him as he raked. She was all for it.

Ken found a "tool" for her to use to dig the acorns out of the ground. It was a key for prying open a paint can.

Violet went outside and immediately got to work. I soon joined her with my own tool, a kitchen can opener.

Soon we'd devised a system: We'd fill a Tupperware bucket with acorns, take it to the porch, dump out the contents, and count the acorns into small groups of ten each. Then we'd tally the total, Violet would record it on a notepad, and we'd start filling the Tupperware bucket again.

Our system worked beautifully, we did a lot of chatting, and Violet saw the pennies add up.

Before we could believe it, Violet had a big yellow pail full of acorns, $12.20 worth. She was proud, I was relieved, Ken was elated to be free of picking up the acorns himself.

Violet casually placed her tally sheet on the kitchen counter, where her Uncle Ken couldn't help but see it, and awaited her payment.

Ken is one to pay his bills promptly, so Violet soon had newly-earned money in her Disney handbag.

 The next afternoon Violet and I decided to pick up a few more acorns. I told her to write "Wednesday" at the top of a fresh tally sheet, so she promptly wrote "Wensday." Then we again tackled the acorns.

This sessions of acorn-picking was shorter, but Violet managed to earn another $6.82.

Our lawns are not entirely free of acorns, but the acorns are much scarcer now. Best of all, Violet earned some money through good, hard work, and she put her budding arithmetic skills to good use. It was a win-win situation.

Christmas in April, for me

Yesterday I drove down to Biddeford to check out the newly-opened Saco River Yarns. The shop is located in one of the big, old, former textile mills in Biddeford, next door to the Saco River Dyehouse.

I'd been wanting to check out the yarn shop. Its grand opening was last Saturday, but I had to miss it because of this darned sinus infection that has been keeping me subdued for the past two months.

I wasn't entirely sure exactly what I'd find at the yarn shop, but I wasn't disappointed. Although their main shop room is still getting stocked with yarns and knitting supplies, the back room is where most of the excitement can be found. In the back room, pictured above, are shopping bags, dozens and dozens of them, full of yarns from the dyehouse. These yarns are technically seconds, but they're still fine quality. Best of all, they're sold by the pound.

In fact, they're sold for $3/pound.

My kind of deal.

Two other knitters were already pawing through the bags when I arrived. They quickly explained to me the deal: All the yarn that strikes your fancy for $3/pound, grab a shopping bag and start making your selections....One of the workers at the dyehouse repeatedly brought in more bags of yarn while we were making our choices.

I had no idea how many pounds of  yarn I'd chosen, but it looked like enough to keep me off the streets for the next several weeks.

I went to the cash register and helped the clerk put my selections onto the scales. I'd chosen five pounds of yarn.

Then the clerk asked, "Do you knit for the Maine Mitten Project?" I replied that I did, indeed, and that I'd cast on for a pair of new mittens just yesterday morning.

"In that case, " she said, "you get one pound of yarn free."

All I need to do is take the finished mittens to the yarn shop, and I'll be given another free pound of yarn.

Sounds good to me. So I handed over my $12 plus tax, came home happy, and photographed these gorgeous beauties.

I know one of the yarn brands at the dyehouse is Quince and Co. That brand has become well known in the past couple of years.

I hope the dyehouse and yarn shop are a big success, because it's wonderful to see new life breathed into these big, old mill buildings that have sat idle for so long.

My latest experiment

I've known for some time now that it's possible, even sensible and cost-saving, to make one's own laundry soap.

I guess I kept clinging to the notion that if I used "store-bought" soap, my laundry would be cleaner.

Then I saw the Duggars on the Today Show two or three weeks ago, and Mrs. Duggar extoled the virtues of making one's own laundry soap.

This gave me the courage I needed, almost....

So I googled "homemade laundry soap," read some reviews, and went to WalMart to purchase the necessary ingredients.

I almost lost my courage while perusing the laundry soap aisle. All of those prepackaged laundry soaps, all of those pretty packages, looked so...superior to anything I could concoct.

Just after I grabbed some Borax and some washing soda and was reaching for the bar of Fels-Naptha, a fellow shopper, a lady, said to me, "You must be making your own laundry soap."

 I told her I'd never  made any before and was trying to decide if I wanted to attempt it or not. She went on to explain that she'd been making her own laundry soap for years and that yes, definitely, handmade laundry soap gets the clothes as clean as any commercial brand.

She noticed I was about to grab a bar of Fels-Naptha, though, and suggested I use a bar of Zote instead. She feels it does a much better job of cleaning the clothes.

I'd never noticed "Zote" in the laundry detergent aisle, and it's no wonder, since it was hidden on a bottom shelf with the large containers of liquid detergent, no where near the Fels-Naptha.

The lady added, "You save so much money by making your own laundry detergent, you know." I told her I'd use the savings for yarns for my knitting habit. Then she said, "You can also make your own dishwasher detergent."

I said I'd give that a try once I'd survived this first experiment. I can handle only so much excitement at one time.

Once I got back home I googled "homemade laundry soap" again, selected a recipe calling for 2 cups of Borax, 2 cups of washing soda, 2 cups of baking soda, and 4 oz. of Zote.

I used a simple hand grater to grate the 1/3 bar of Zote (a 14 oz. bar that set me back a whopping 97 cents. I've seen Zote for sale on line for three or four times that price.) The grating went quickly and easily, and the grated Zote looked so yummy, like pink coconut, that I had all I could do not to eat a handful of it. But I restrained myself.

I mixed together the baking soda, the washing soda, and the Borax, then I added one cup of this mixture to my blender with 1 cup of the grated Zote. I kept doing this until all of the Zote had been nicely added into the dry ingredients, as you can see in this bowl on the left.

It's possible to make a liquid laundry soap, but the thought of storing a large container of liquid soap doesn't appeal to me at all. The dry powder is much more sensible, in my view.

Here's the kicker: one load of laundry takes ONE TABLESPOON of this laundry powder. For heavily soiled laundry, two tablespoons might be in order.

I've done 4-5 loads of laundry with my new detergent, and my clothes are coming out nice and clean. I don't see that the Tide I've used for decades does any better than my homemade soap does.

I'm curious to see how long this first batch lasts. I've got plenty of Borax, washing soda, baking soda, and Zote left over to make several more batches.

Nuttin' much

 I'm officially tired of winter.

We did get enough snow in February/March to give us a good base for cross-country skiing, so we've gone out onto the woods roads a couple of times. I enjoy our excursions in the quiet forest. We find plenty of evidence of creatures there, but none shows his/her face when we're out and about.

But it's time for spring now, so I hope Mother Nature will bring it on. Despite the foot or more of snow still on the ground, I have two little crocuses bravely blooming against the foundation wall, in front of my kitchen.

I've been knitting, per usual. I'm sorry to bore those who don't care about knitting with my little creations, but what else do I have to talk about, really?

At the top is the Mischa dress, which I made for our dearest friends' first grandchild, Phoebe. I made it a size 1; Phoebe is now 3 1/2 months old, so she has some growing to do before it fits her.

It was an enjoybable pattern, especially the bodice, which looks complicated but is actually quite simple. The skirt did get a tad boring, I'll admit, with knitting a stockinette stitch 'round and 'round seemingly endlessly.

No sooner had I finished the Mischa dress when I came across the "Double Breasted Baby Sweater." That's what it's called, anyway, although it's not actually double-breasted. (To be more accurate, it was called the DBBS, but the designer has recently renamed it the Otto Day Sweater.) I love to knit cables, and these cables are fantastic! I first knit it in white but ran into a serious problem as I worked my way up to the sleeve openings: the stitch counts were way off. I contacted the designer (and was surprised to discover she lives in Portland, Maine, of all places). She said she thought she had corrected the numbers but would would take another look at her directions and get back to me in a couple of days. Meanwhile, I gathered my wits about me and managed to make the corrections myself.

After finishing the white sweater, I decided to make one in pale lavender to go with the Mischa. The Mischa has pale lavender accents. Phoebe will look quite fetching in her little outfit, I suspect.

So that's done.

Earlier this week I packed up the little critters in the chair, four baby bunnies, a mouse, and a puppy, and sent them to their new home in Savannah, GA. I hope they like it down there. It was a little sad to see them go.

These photos are terribly out of order, as you've noticed by now, but I guess I'll leave them as is.

Now, about these crochet-covered Easter eggs. Who in her right mind would spend time crocheting a cover for an egg, you're surely asking.

I would, that's who. I think they're downright elegant. The designer of this pattern calls for boiled eggs tucked into the crocheted "pocket", but I'm using fake porcelain and wooden eggs because I want to reuse the eggs year after year, Easter after Easter.

That's what I've been up to while I wait for the snow to melt. Oh, and there's talk of another snowstorm arriving this coming Tuesday, the 19th. Yea.

Coincidence?

This past Friday, in the middle of the night as I was trying to will myself back to sleep, I suddenly thought of a student I'd had in class way back in 1969-70. His name was Joe.

I hadn't thought of Joe in many years, and there was no reason why I should. I'd known many students between 1968 and 2004, when I retired, so it wasn't a surprise to me that Joe had not entered my thoughts. I'd seen him once since 1970, when Ken and I were eating at a Portland restaurant and Joe was our waiter.

That incident was probably at least 30 years ago.

But I remembered yesterday that Joe had sprung to mind the night before, so I decided to see if I could locate him on White Pages. I found someone with his name living in Cape Elizabeth, aged 60, and decided that was probably the Joe I once knew. Then I forgot about him again.

This morning I sat reading the Sunday paper. Imagine my shock when there, in the obituaries, was listed Joe, the Joe I once knew, age 60, a resident of Cape Elizabeth. Joe had died unexpectedly on Friday, February 22.

Is this merely a coincidence? I don't know. What do you think?