Friday, July 8, 2022

Quick n' Dirty D&D Plotting Board

My husband began his illustrious career as a D&D DM when he was 12 or 13 years old. It's been a long time coming, but with our three kids now ranging from 9 to 13 years old, we've finally begun our first official campaign. (Our goal? Make Korin Great Again!) 

While he's printed us tons of maps and occasionally pressed our school whiteboard into service, he agreed it would be nice to have a table-top mat or board for diagramming engagements. 

It's quite possible to purchase such a thing, but it seemed within the spirit of the game to construct my own instead. Here's what I came up with. 



Supplies

  • Folding board from a disused boardgame  
  • Printed graph paper with 1 cm to 1 in squares depending on your preferences, enough to cover board
  • Contact Paper
  • Scissors and/or paper cutter
  • Glue stick

 

Procedure

  1. Find a board game you can sacrifice. We had a Scrabble game sitting around that I purchased for its tiles, so that's what I used. Search your game collection for an old Candyland set, or head over to your local Goodwill. 
    Note: You Can do this project with a game you still want to play if - like me - you build your playing surface on the back of the gameboard. You sacrifice a small margin on the fold(s) if you go this route. 
  2. Download yourself some graph paper, like this 1 cm square page from Speedytemplate. Print out enough copies to cover your board
  3. Carefully trim your graph paper to fit. (Consider overlapping at the seam, which I didn't do and wish I had.) Leave 1/2 cm or so margin on all sides so there's more surface for the Contact paper to adhere.  
  4. Glue your graph paper to the game board, being sure to avoid the center fold if you are using the back of the board
  5. Carefully trim your Contact paper to fit the board. Apply even more carefully, starting at one long end and gently pulling the backing paper off a little at a time while you are sticking it down. 

That's all there is to it. You now have a playing grid you can diagram your campaigns upon using dry erase markers. 
I plan to create small, simple "meeples" from polymer clay for each player and major NPC. I will either use paper tokens or create a handful of very generic tokens for the bad guys. Of course, structures and significant geographical figures can be drawn in with dry erase pens.  

One last tip: If you can, erase thoroughly after each use. The Contact paper is a decent, but not perfect, dry erase surface. 
Straight rubbing alcohol does a pretty good job of cleaning the board too. 

Thursday, March 10, 2022

Just Turn It Off Already!

A friend of mine recently posted about her growing realization that she must be disciplined and cautious about her news consumption, lest she, like so many of us, become overwhelmed to the point of immobility. 

 I feel her pain. I actually turned off the news in November of 2020. It was an act of desperation, because I just couldn't take it anymore. And so I went cold-turkey on the local AM station. No more talk shows. I don't take a paper, or even have access to broadcast TV. I have suppressed most FB news postings, and limited headline-pushers on my various devices. I largely avoid podcasts touching on current events. And I've made it abundantly clear to my husband that I do Not want to hear about it, let alone discuss it. 

 And it's working. Enough seeps through the cracks in my rock that I know that there is, for instance, a war going on in Europe, but I can still sleep at night. Mostly. 

 It occurs to me about once a fortnight that I may have gone too far. That I look like the little monkeys with their hands over their eyes and ears and mouths. That all I am doing is foolishly and cravenly denying reality and indulging in a magical fantasy world where nothing gets to bother me - UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE. (Cue the creepy music.) 
 I won't deny that there is a weak and unhealthy part of me that would like to do just that. The initial decision did come out of a place of near break-down after all. All I can say is, sometimes you've got to overcorrect. 

 Because (in my little internal dialog), I then remember that media is a product, and they're not selling good news. They're selling exactly the opposite. Fear. Terror. Outrage. Dissension. Judgement. All interspersed with the even more urgent news of a weekend super sale at Macy's, suggestions that you try a new detergent, or maybe a new car. 
 Moreover, they are a product with both a bias and an agenda, and very rarely is either aligned with my own worldview. Even when they are... well, see above. 

So I leave the radio off. I get that I have some emotional health issues that need healing, but bathing in sewage is hardly an effective treatment for infected wounds. I know the word is going to hell in a handbasket, but that hasn't changed in, oh, the last 5 or 6 thousand years, and I don't need a front row seat. Even less do I need a biased, agenda-driven report from someone else who claims to have a front row seat, not to mention a burning desire to get me into a new vehicle. 

What I Need is even more constant reminders that God is still on his throne, and is in control of Even This. He is not surprised by Russia's aggression or the rest of the world's rudderless, stupid responses. Neither weird weather, novel viruses, or overreaching governments throw off his plans. He's not even anxious about my friend's recent health concerns, my kid's latest behavioral or emotional challenges, or the price of gasoline. He Cares about all of this stuff - and cares deeply - but none of it Scares him. He already wrote the final chapter, and the good guys win. All I need to do is ensure that I am on His side. That I am seeking His Kingdom and His Righteousness. All the rest, I get to leave to him. 

 So yeah, the news stays off. For now, and quite possibly forever. I have more important things to do with my time. Like teaching my kids. Going grocery shopping. Taking a walk in the sun and seeing what the beavers have been up to in the creek. Having important discussions with my daughter. Studying the Bible. Making dinner for the family. Praying for those hurting. Helping those I can. And continually practicing my faith and trust in Him.

Sunday, January 30, 2022

Not So Quick and Dirty Sewing: More Tips for Sewing Plushies



 A year ago I published an extensive tip-sheet for sewing plushies, my current crafting obsession. 

In the ensuing months I've gathered a few more tips, which I will share here in abbreviated form. You can consider this an improvement and mostly a replacement of my previous post as there will be overlap, but my intent is for this one to be SHORT. (We'll see!) 

1. Do start with free patterns from Choly Knight.   And DO read her instructions and tips carefully. Mine are purely supplementary! 

2. Do cut your patterns out of regular printer paper and trace them on the wrong side of your fabric 

3. Do NOT waste your money on any of the pattern tracing options from the Notions wall (soapstone, pencils, disappearing ink, carbon paper, tracing wheels, etc.) 

  • The only possible exception is the Mark B Gone pens from Dritz. The white one may save your bacon when tracing on black fabric. But they are overpriced and underperforming, and they couldn't even be bothered to design a cap that fits on the end of the pen! I prefer Crayola's gel markers for black paper in most situations.
4. Do use Sharpies in a slightly darker color for most pattern tracing. Yes, really. 

5. Do use anti-pill fleece as your minimum cost acceptable fabric, but spend the extra $ for minky whenever you can. (And use felt+fusible web for eyes and applique details. See original tips post for details on eyes.) 

6. Do splurge on Clover Mini Wonder Clips. (Be careful of buying online; there are many knockoffs. With coupon I got 20 of them for about $12 at Michael's, which is plenty.)  While these do not entirely solve the slippage problem when sewing together small pieces of minky, they Do solve the "constantly pricking my fingers" problem quite neatly. 
Above: "Wonder Clips" replacing pins on this wing



7. As to that slippage problem... it's a beast. I Hate it when this happens! And it does happen frequently, despite my best efforts and bunches of clips or pins. 
Above: Top and bottom fabric pieces slipped during sewing. Stitching missed one layer entirely on lowest point of wing. 


Here's one strategy: Stop cutting corners. No, really! You do not have to cut right at the line on the complicated shapes. (Wings. dragon crest spikes, toes, etc.) Leave some extra fabric on at Least one of your pieces. This leaves you more margin for (inevitable) error. You will need to trim your seam allowances after sewing anyway. 
Above: Leave a larger margin when cutting out your small or complicated shapes. You have to trim after sewing anyway! 

8. Finally, let's talk compromises on transferring those complicated wing, claw, and spike shapes. 
You Could cut off the seam allowance from your paper pattern pieces after the initial transfer to fabric and then use it as a tracing template. This is what Choly recommends, and it works every time. It also makes it hard to reuse your pattern piece. 
OR you could poke holes in your paper pattern at the pivot points (I use a ball point pen and a heavy piece of cardboard behind) and transfer just the dot markings to the fabric. Then, depending on your confidence, how complicated the shape, etc you can either eyeball and draw a dotted line on your fabric, or you can leave just the pivot points and eyeball it while sewing. I've done both. 

Quick warning: Transfering dots is one place you might use a water-based, non-Sharpie pen. Experience shows that this is the place your markings are most likely to bleed to the right side of the fabric because you are poking, not drawing. It is also the place most likely to show on the final project because it is right at the edge of the seam allowance. If you miss, when sewing, the dot might show through.  

OK, that's all I have for today. I hope you find it useful. Have fun sewing! 

Friday, January 14, 2022

I've Seen This One

In my dream I am in a stagecoach or covered wagon with two or three others I understand to be of my party. We are traveling up the side of a mountain, and eventually come to a small town. We stop to get coffee. As we proceed I am aware of a certain sense of deja vu. I have a flashback of seeing the coffee stand I just patronized as a charred ruin. That's because there is a wildfire racing through this area, and we are in its path. Oddly, this does not greatly concern me. I know that the owner of the stand is OK and will rebuild. 

 

When we get back on the road I recall that our coach driver is The White Witch. (I don't know that I ever see her, but in my mind's eye she looks far more like the Pauline Baynes illustration than Tilda Swinton's movie version. Call me old fashioned!) What's more, I know for certain that she will shortly betray us, taking the coach and horses for herself and leaving us at the mercy of the oncoming fire. Again, this is not terribly upsetting to me: I've seen this one. I know we will make it out. 

The White Witch in her sleigh

In fact, I take matters into my own hands. I grab the hand of the girl nearest me and we bail out of the back. I explain somehow that the White Witch is about to betray us and we need to get to safety as best we can. So we start moving down the mountain, looking for shelter. I have some mild curiosity as to where exactly we might find to shelter and whether the firestorm will rage over us and how uncomfortable that may be. I know that we should not try to run straight up slope, as we cannot outrun a fire and will merely use up our own strength. But I am not actually afraid. 

As we go on I observe that the forest on the downhill side of the road is already charred and smoking, but not in flames. The uphill side of the road is still untouched. I start to think that maybe the fire already passed this way and was unable to leap the firebreak. Perhaps that is how we'll survive. I do not know the details. I don't even feel like I should be trying to remember them. I just know it's going to work out.

Somewhere along the road, I wake up. It's 5:30 or 6 am, and entirely dark. But still, I am not afraid. While I remember my dream quite well, I realize it was not technically a "bad" one, because there is no adrenaline, no pounding heart, no lingering and oppressive feelings of doom or even frustration and confusion.  In fact, I fall back asleep in 10 minutes or so and back into what may be part of the same dream - those details are no longer clear - but the general emotions don't change. Mild curiosity, a willingness to figure things out, but no great fear. 

Later in the morning, with the sun up and a cup of MUD/WTR in me, my husband asks how I slept. I tell him I had a fairly vivid dream that should have been bad, but really didn't bother me. It looked pretty bleak, but I knew I'd already seen this one and it was going to be fine. Somewhere in that conversation it struck me: This is why I don't have to be afraid!

Obviously, in real life I haven't "seen this one." But I know Someone who has. He's told me the ending, at least in broad strokes, and it's an awesome one. The good guys win; the bad guys lose. Permanently. What's more, he's promised me a place in it. I get to be one of the good guys! 

There is no script: this is improv, not a rehearsed set piece. And He hasn't by any means promised an easy experience for my character - he really hasn't told me anything specific about what's going to happen to her at all.  But there are hints: plenty of rules and guidelines, warnings and encouragements to keep us on course. Stories about what happened before I came on stage. Explanations about why things look bad and what He's done about it. And always and most importantly, there's that rock-hard, iron-clad promise of a happy ending. 

Was my semi-coherent, piecemeal, and not very linear dream actually a direct message from God? I remain noncommittal on that point. It wasn't a vision, that's for sure. It wasn't prophetic. And as parables go it doesn't hold up very well against the real ones. But I think it did have a message: Keep remembering that you don't have to be afraid. The ending has already been written. It's set in stone, and it's going to be great. Trust the Author.

 A Day in the Life: September 24, 2021

I was browsing through some very old blog posts a couple of days back and found a "Day in the Life" diary from 2015 written right around this time of year.

A great deal has changed in the last 6 years. 

The most obvious, of course, is that the kids are now 8, 10, and 12 years old! We're deep into homeschooling, dance lessons, computer games, and taekwondo. All three are largely independent in terms of quotidian tasks: they can read, do a load of laundry, prepare a sandwich, and log into a laptop.  That said, it's surprising how many of the big things look similar. So I thought I would go ahead and chronicle last Friday just for fun. 

Grace (10) has a lot of trouble sleeping, and she can be a terrible morning person. On the plus side she loves long walks, and is willing to take them in the "early" morning (say, around 8 to 8:30!) This makes her much more ready for school around 9:30 or 10. Today I was up around 7:45 when David's alarm went off. I did my CBS Bible Study for the day (we're in Joshua), enjoyed a mug of MUD\WTR, and then woke Grace up for our walk. It was a beautiful morning. The colors are just starting, but we've had very little rain yet. It's cool without being cold. We did our standard route starting at Autumn Ridge park and proceeding through the neighborhoods to the Apollo Ridge mixed-use path across 173rd.
Just this week we explored a branch of this path we hadn't before and found that it terminates near 158th and Cornell. It's roughly 1.5 miles one way, and there's a gas station convenience store at the end of it. I don't know how or when I became the mom that always gets a drink at the convenience store, but it happened.

There are multiple patches of woods, a lot of (slippery) boardwalk, and streams on this route and I'm a little embarrassed it took us this long to find it. Tuesday of this week we witnessed a neighborhood cat 12 feet up a hollow tree stump trying (unsuccessfully) to catch a squirrel on this walk. Today we saw the same (?) squirrel in his little apartment in that tree, but the cat wasn't back for a second try!  

Grace often chatters at length about her latest book series, the characters she is designing for art class or some other project, dance, friends, and etc. Sometimes on the return half of the walk she'll be ready do a little math or practice her Bible memory passage. In fact, that was true as recently as Tuesday. Today, not so much. We got as far as 5x7 and she absolutely melted down. Math is not an easy subject for Grace. Although we actually introduced the times tables 3 years ago via "Times Tales" videos, she has never become truly comfortable with them, or really any other aspect of math we've explored in the last couple of years. Tears are the norm, and I am frequently at my wit's end, more with attitude than aptitude really. I gave her the standard lecture about how not having natural talent in math is no more "her fault" than *having* natural talent in dance, and how her sister is willing to work hard on dance despite having less aptitude and Grace should do the same in math. As usual it fell on deaf ears. 

So, I left her on the porch to calm down. 

It was now after 9:30  (maybe closer to 10... class technically starts at 9:30 but that's mostly to get them out of bed by 9.) James and Lucy had gotten up in the interim and eaten breakfast. David is working from home in the front room, a situation that sometimes causes conflict but is Mostly tolerable. I reminded everyone to get their school things out and put their breakfast things away. You'd think this would be second nature by now, but it rarely is - at least for Lucy. James had actually made good use of his unsupervised time by knocking out Vocab and possibly Math, both of which are at least semi-independent. 

Eventually we were ready to try group time. For this season Group Time consists of reviewing our Bible memory passage (we're on our last week in Matthew Chapter 6) and reading a devotional. Yesterday I belatedly realized that our current book ("God's Mighty Acts of Salvation" by Starr Meade) is based entirely around Galatians, but the passages from Galatians are not specifically assigned reading. So I assigned them. Everyone has a Bible they can read through on their own, although all of them find Paul's writing dense and difficult to interpret at times, especially when asked to read it aloud. About 1/3 of the time I remember to open or close this group time with prayer.  Anyway, James and Lucy are definitely ready to recite their verses today. Grace has been excused from this exercise for the last few months as public recitation before she's even close to word perfect seems to be a major trigger to her anxiety and melt-downs. She's using a few different methods to learn the passages, and next week we will learn if she's been able to keep up or at least cram for the final whole-chapter recitation.

Other things we sometimes do during group time include a Mad Lib or two (excuse: they teach parts of speech. Sort of), read-alouds in the literature, history, or geography realm, and a Logic book that we haven't picked up yet this term. We've done several History / Geography mini units using Holling C Holling books, but we're taking a break from those right now and using a new social studies curriculum from a friend. James was supposed to nail down a route from Minnesota to both Dakotas on our map, along with stopping places and points of interest. Grace is reading some historical fiction set in the area. Lucy is along for the ride mostly, but did listen to an audio book version of "Little House in the Big Woods" last week. She gave me a fairly decent review of it over the weekend. 

Anyway, the day gets a bit blurry at this point even from a vantage point of a mere 72 hours, because so many of our school tasks are currently in the independent to semi-independent category. James completed his "Life of Fred: Pre Algebra 1" lessons for the week, his grammar exercises, and got a head start on next week's vocabulary lesson. He also did a typing exercise (he thinks he is done learning to type, but I disagree) and wrote a short book report of "Farmer Boy." (I've been requiring one mini report per week of a book from a list I created. He hates it, because he wants to read a steady diet of current YA sci-fi and deeply resents the historical fiction and other classics I am trying to slip in. Except when he ends up enjoying them instead. Which is usually. But I digress.) Finally, I looked over the write-ups James did for the most recent episodes of "Mythbusters" we've been doing in lieu of more formal science. (In my defense, his science textbook is back-ordered!) I'm actually really pleased with these write-ups as a tool for teaching writing as much as anything else. He's been terribly reluctant to take on any sort of writing assignments in general. These near-daily ones are short enough they don't trigger his resistance as badly, especially since they're typed. This is a double-win for me as they're easy to correct, and I am insisting that he use full sentences and accurate grammar. We're using Google Docs as our writing tool here: he does his write-ups in a template I designed, and shares the doc with me. I write basic editing notes and then follow up to be sure he actually did it. It's taking a while for him to get the idea that I Really mean it, but he's improving.

Lucy needs a lot more checking in and refocusing, but she did her own grammar lesson, handwriting, and multiplication math worksheet. She probably did a typing lesson as well. She Loves the extra screen time, perhaps especially when she is grounded from video games as she is this week. She doesn't particularly struggle in any school subject, although she doesn't love math and she deeply resents handwriting. I'm not giving her formal history, science, or even writing this year. That will come later. She fills up her free time with spontaneous and often rather messy arts and crafts projects as well as reading - mostly "graphic novels" by choice, but she is branching out when pressed.

Grace and I had a long talk on the porch about how to move forward in math and ended up with me agreeing to drop the times-tables recitation that she hates with such a fiery passion. Instead she will use a look-up table whenever she needs a multiplication fact during her math lessons.  (This is a tried and true technique from other homeschool moms. It's not that I've been against it per-say, but it feels like cheating to Grace and I've gotten stuck in my own thinking that she Ought to have those stupid things memorized. I just hope that she manages the darn piece of paper better than she manages most.) After lunch or what passed for it (I think it was PB sandwiches with apple butter from the batch I made with Gary and Phyllis' apples) we put the look-up table to the test with a Life of Fred: Ice Cream chapter. We did this one at the top of the play structure because we needed someplace quiet and alone, and most likely David was on the phone with someone from work on the front room. I'm rating it a moderate success.  Grace also finished up grammar work and answered some questions for the book she's reading for social studies. She might have done some typing, and we definitely finished up spelling and vocab for the week by combining them. 

Long story short, everyone was as done as they intended to be by about 2 pm. Usually on Fridays we go to the Library about then, but today we had no real need. There's a box full of unread books still in the front room. Instead they got to do a project they'd been looking forward to: decorating the family room for fall! 

In direct contrast to 6 years ago, today the kids were given free reign over the entire project. They hunted down the boxes in the attic, took down the summer display and repacked it, and then replaced it with fall colors. They spent maybe an hour on it, plus dribs and drabs of extra time when I prompted them to finish cleaning up! I mostly stood back and stayed out.
And no, it's not exactly how I would do it. But I've learned that I don't deeply enjoy the process of decorating right now, and while I might re-arrange a few things here and there over the month or two that we leave this set of decor up, I'm mostly entirely happy that they are in charge.

After this task, I allowed computer time for James and Grace for what was supposed to be 30 mn each, but probably ended up nearly double that. They play a mix of Roblox and Minecraft, the former of which I am not a big fan of but they dearly love. Minecraft is more my speed and "feels" more valuable as an activity. In any case they are experts at ignoring their timers as long as possible and I let them get away with it far too easily. 

David wrapped up work early so that we could eat out . 

AND that's where this day-in-the-life ends, because I didn't have time to finish and now it's January. 


Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Grief Looks Like a Small Black Cat.

Grief sneaks up on you. It’s not always recognizable. Sometimes it takes the form of rage against a world on a highway to Hell. Sometimes it takes the form of fear for the future. Sometimes it takes the form of wishing with all your might that the world wasn’t the way it is. Sometimes it’s putting your fingers in your ears and squeezing your eyes shut and pretending that it’s not real. Sometimes it looks like nostalgia. Sometimes a deep melancholy. Sometimes it looks like hiding inside a safe book or movie or game until things seem safer. Sometimes it looks like lethargy and depression. Sometimes it looks like manic energy.
Sometimes...
 
It is Wednesday, December 29th, 2021. It’s that “bonus” week between Christmas and New Years, and everyone is feeling just a little off kilter. Kids aren’t in school or extracurriculars, but Dad is working - from home, as usual. There’s no clear schedule. Some people are sleeping in until noon and others are getting up at a normal hour. Meals are sporadic; errands and other outings even more so. We hang around crafting, reading, getting way too much screen time, and often just wandering around aimlessly wondering what we’re supposed to do with ourselves. It’s a weird week.

But today food was put on the dinner table on time, and we’ve actually been doing pretty well staying occupied and - well - peaceable.  So I am caught entirely off guard when my middle child seems to be having a minor melt-down as the dinner dishes are cleared away. She was fine all afternoon. I wasn’t aware of any inter-sibling conflicts or other serious disappointments in the recent past. But she’s not snapping out of it - she’s snapping at everyone. And now she’s huddled into a ball quietly sniffling.

I kneel down beside her wearing my best patient mom face, while silently decrying the loss of our family game time.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“sniffle, mumble, mmph.”
I rub her back, and keep digging. “Do you have a headache?” (No.) “Has there been some drama with your friends?” (Uh-uh.) “Then what’s wrong?”
“I miss Nettle.” (Sob!!!)

Oh.

December 31, 2020. The last day of the year everyone wished never happened in the first place. Late November, our 16 year old cat started declining, rapidly. The vet encouraged us to put her down, in fact, just a few days before Thanksgiving. We didn’t, and she seemed to be getting better. She was almost normal for a week or two around Christmas. But the 31st wasn’t a good day for her. There were signs. And there was absolutely nothing we could do. So, we made her as comfortable as we knew how and went on to my parents’ house for a small and somewhat subdued Hogmanay. But this year we didn’t sleep over like we usually do. We came home instead, and, sure enough, Nettle had passed while we were out.  
The afternoon of January 1st was spent digging a grave for the first pet we had to bury as a family. The first pet I’d had to bury ever. 


Grace had been Nettle’s favorite since Grace was maybe four, and Nettle 10. She would sleep on Grace’s bed, purr for her, patiently accept all her affections, and comfort her when she couldn’t sleep. We called her an emotional support cat.

Grace and Nettle in 2013
 

Still, by December 2021 I don’t think I’d thought of Nettle in... months. Oh, we may have mentioned her in passing a time or two, but I certainly hadn’t stopped to miss her.
Some of this is because we had two other cats by the time she passed. One of them looks so much like her we had trouble telling them apart in the few weeks we had both of them. The other is now Grace’s special friend who sleeps on her pillow and purrs and patiently accepts all her affections.

But they’re Not Nettle.

Grief is a funny thing. It’s unpredictable, unreliable, inconsistent, and it keeps its own schedule. One minute you’re eating dinner after a satisfying day of crafting, looking forward to watching a movie of your own choosing while the rest of the family plays that annoying D&D game you don’t care for, and the next you’re sobbing your eyes out missing the cat that died 363 days earlier.
And the rest of the family has (apparently) moved on. Probably.  
But sometimes grief looks like a small black cat.

I always remind the kids at times like this that we’re supposed to feel this way about death. That death is profoundly unnatural. Wrong in every way. We weren’t designed for death. We weren’t designed for a world that has death in it. The world wasn’t designed to have death in it.
And yet, here we are. Longing to be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. (Romans 8:21 NKJV)

Because what else can we do?

I saw this quote on Facebook the other day - unattributed, so I am sorry for not giving credit where credit is due, but it sums up my feelings perfectly.

“He cried. He knew Lazarus was dead before he got the news. But still, he cried. He knew Lazarus would be alive again in moments. But still, He cried. He knew death here is not forever. He knew eternity and the kingdom better than anyone else could. Yet He wept. Because this world is full of pain and regret and loss and depression and devastation. He wept because knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean you can’t cry at the sad parts.“

So go ahead and cry, Grace. Cry for the small black cat. Jesus did.


Thursday, September 30, 2021

Custom Plush Creations from Me to You, for Charity

 A couple of weeks before Christmas 2018 I got a wild hare to sew a kitty plushy (or stuffy, or stuffed animal, or whatever you happen to call them in your home.) I found a great pattern from cholyknight.com for this Kitty Bean Plush. I used some flippy sequin fabric salvaged from a Dollar Tree gift bag for her belly and ears. It was a lot of fun to sew, and I immediately recognized that if I was going to make one for my first daughter, I'd better make one for the second daughter as well! Kitty #2 turned out even better, and by then the bug had bitten. I've hardly put down my needle and thread - or stopped haunting the remnants bins at JoAnn Fabrics - since!

Dragon Heat Pack
 

The problem? My kids had too many plushies to begin with. I am not nearly ready to stop sewing, but I need a new outlet. 

Here's where you come in: 

I would love to make a plushy for You. You choose the pattern (from any of the ones on www.cholyknight.com) and the colors, and I'll give you a quote. While it will depend on the size and complexity of the pattern, whether you want special fabrics such as fur, sequins, or shiny, and especially whether you want a pouch or heating pad built in, you can be confident it should come in between $15 for the little guys to $30 for the largest and most complex.
But the best news is that I'm not going to keep your money. In fact, I'm going to donate every cent of it to one of three charities: Zoe InternationalMountain Ministries, or a missions fund of City's Edge Church.

Interested? Reply in here, in this post's comments, or thru Facebook if you know me. Let's talk!

 






Mr Tumnus the Fawn