AfricanKelli

I’m not above copying those I admire. I wish I were so inventive and creative that I didn’t need others for inspiration, but alas, I am not so mighty.

That said, I’m stealing 6.5 Stitches ideas left and right today. Let’s start with her crafty inventory, with my own spin.

Current Ruminations:

1. My backtack pattern still hasn’t arrived from eBay and I’m starting to get a bit worried. I’ve emailed the seller and will check my mail again tonight. Worst case scenario, I will have to go out this weekend and find it. I am traveling next weekend and am eager to send my partner her surprise.

2. I picked up some new knitting needles last night for my first One Skein Wonder at Jessica Knits. I love this store. If I had the time, I’d sit on her couch and knit all day long. (Or until my fingers got sore.) I caught myself drooling over Lambs Pride wool, but couldn’t decide on a color. I want to try Kay and Ann’s button hole bag again with a double strand for stability.

3. I finished my Tie One On entry for September. I’m pretty sure I already posted this, but here it is again. I’m making a handful of these aprons for different gifts this Fall. If I’d been more creative, I would have done something like Kath. I love the one her daughter is wearing. The flowers are simple and sweet.

4. Random photo from my garden. Apparently I can grow succulents, the plants that require little to no attention whatsoever.

5. See that tag on 6.5 stitches homepage. Remember how I said I’m stealing from her? Yep. Once again, the African Bandit strikes. I’ve been looking for personalized tags to include with my knitted and sewn gifts but haven’t found anything that doesn’t seem straight out of Mayberry. So, I purchased some twill tape last night and am going to make an attempt to stamp labels this weekend.

I think that is just about enough. I’ve got other non-craft related things on my schedule this weekend, including a lengthy swim in Tempe Town Lake, working on “the book” and catching up with family and the such. This sign sums it all up well:

Cheers,

Kelli

I don’t have kids, or pets. I hear from those who do that you constantly worry about their wellbeing and you are never the same after they come into your life.

In that case, I’ve got Cody.

He’s the closest I’ve come to having my heart living outside of my body. No one on earth can make me angrier and happier within a short period of time. Our relationship is bitter sweet. I love him dearly, though we rarely agree on anything. Where I am day, he is night.

I vividly remember the day he was born, even though I was just coming up on my third birthday. My mom had a troubled pregnancy with Cody. He was small, boisterous and swimming around in there knocking her left and right. Suddenly, he knocked something a bit too hard and she began to bleed. With a two year old at her feet, and a belly pushing out two feet in front of her, my brave 28-year-old mother tried to calmly explain that, We. Were. Going. To. The. Hospital. NOW!

My Aunt Gale — who isn’t really my aunt — came over with my best friend — her son — Josh. With us strapped in the backseat, she sped like wildfire through the suburbs to get my mom to the emergency room. Like the future wanna be fashionista I would become, I had remembered to grab my Fischer Price purse before we left the house. Josh was yammering on in my ear about something, more than likely
Sesame Street related, as I searched the bottom of the tiny vinyl purse. There! I found it!

“Mom!” I called from the back seat. “Mom! It is okay! We can go home now.”

She looked back, trying to control her panic. “What honey?”

“I have a Band-Aid!” I put out my little hand with the bandage in my palm ready for her taking, trying to reassure her that a little blood wasn’t anything we couldn’t solve.

She smiled, thanked me and said she’d like to have the doctor check her out just in case. The ultrasound showed the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around his neck. His heart rate was falling. He had been kicking and screaming for help, not attention.

Soon enough, his tiny little purple body came out of the seemingly giant red incision across my mom’s belly. He screamed for air and was pushed into an incubator. He was early and he was small, but thank God, he was healthy.

I was sent home with Josh and Aunt Gale for the night while my parents dealt with their new addition to their young family. When my dad picked me up in his white pickup truck the next day, he had a sapling in the back. We planted the tree the next day in our front yard to mark my brother’s birth. (They’d planted one when I was born too.) The tree planting for major family occurrences continues today.

Today, my brother is more than 6 feet tall. His tree – still growing in the front yard of a home we haven’t lived in for more than 20 years – is more than 15 feet tall. Its broad arms reach out toward the sun. Its leaves are starting to change with the season. It makes me happy when I drive by that house and remember the day I first met my brother.

Happy birthday Cody. I love you.

~Kelli

And no talking about work on your personal blog.

The two rules of life, right?

Well, I am about to break one, and needless to say, I’m not holding a bat or wiping away tears.

I love my job, and therefore cannot be terribly specific here. However, I can say I am part of a social movement to improve the health of women and children in need.

This article is fueling my career-based entry. Fistulas are tears that can occur in the bladder or intestinal wall when a woman is giving birth. Usually these happen after hours and hours of intense labor with the baby’s head stuck in the birth canal. Fistulas have been a thing of the past in developed nations for more than 100 years; so few women here go without prenatal care and deliver by themselves at home. Does anything sound more terrifying? I cannot imagine.

Now make these soon-to-be mothers 12-19 years old. They are young, African, poor, uneducated and unprepared for the baby struggling to leave their tiny childlike frames. When fistulas occur, the baby usually dies and the mother is left with a gaping hole that keeps her incontinent. In
Mozambique, there are 3 surgeons that can perform the necessary surgery to correct these tears. There are 17 million people in this southeast African nation.

And chances are, if they couldn’t find the resources to seek prenatal care, they will not be able to pay the $300 required for the fistula repair.

This is a cultural phenomenon in sub-Saharan Africa. These women live on the fray of society — pushed away from the central markets, kicked out of their homes, abandoned by their husbands. They cannot help but always smell of urine and cannot work under such circumstances. They are the women who sit in clumps at the airport, begging foreigners for any assistance possible. They struggle to find enough food to eat and are prey to violence. If Africa adhered to the caste system, they would be the untouchables.

If you have a few minutes to read this article and look at the photos today, I encourage you to do so. I am thankful that the organization I work for has programming in Mozambique to keep these girls in school, train midwives to be present to prevent such traumatic deliveries, and provide somewhat of a cushion for those who need healthcare services.

These are a few mothers I’ve met in my travels.

As they say in Cameroon, “small small catch monkey.” One day at a time.

~AK

I took my new camera to Saguaro Lake Saturday. I’m happy with the “zoomy” results.

More photos here.

~AK

One of the trickiest parts of learning to knit is finding the patience to always do things right. There are few shortcuts in knitting that result in anything you’d actually want to produce. You’ve got to take your time, find your rhythm and take each project one stitch at a time.

It is similar to running a marathon. One step at a time. But then you reach mile 20 and have just about had enough. You swear you will actually mangle the next spectator who naively calls out from the sidelines, “Almost there!”

Those marathon mile 20 emotions came rushing back when I tackled my first knitted beanie. My friends Darren and Jess purchased the car of all cars earlier this summer. Their Mini Cooper is yellow with white bonnet stripes and was aptly given the moniker “Mrs. Bumble.”

“What,” I thought to myself, “could be more appropriate than a yellow and white striped beanie to accessorize such a glorious purchase?”

And so I began, knitting and knitting and knitting for about a month. I enjoyed the project and loved the colors. It wasn’t until I reached the tapered top, with the dire Double Pointed Needles (DPNs), that I nearly lost my mind. DPNs quickly became my arch nemesis of knitting. The doom of my domestic domain. The stitches kept falling off the back of the needles, and then suddenly there was (gasp!) a twist in my work.

Without realizing that the dreaded twist is the worst case scenario for working on a circular needle (again, this was my virgin beanie), I continued the battle against good vs. DPNs until I ended up with this:

Looks cute, right? Look again.

Ahh, the twist. Mother of God. (Much screaming, hair pulling, and “Stitch and bitch this you Mother F—–!” ensued.) I put the hat in my knitting pile for a couple of months, eventually took it to my knitting group for a good laugh, and looked at it again this week when I started beanie #2.

I wasn’t going to let those double pointed needles get me down. Oh, no. I’ve got to keep on moving!  And so, after an increased dose of patience, tempered with much laughter during “Two and ½ Men,” I produced this:

Voila! Good vs. evil and good won. Ha ha! Double Pointed Needles – you’ve been beaten and sent back to your cave of knitting despair to live with your neighbors, the dropped stitch and the ribbed stitch. May you all live in deep, dark, Red Heart hell.

~Africankelli, super knitter

(Do you think a felted cape would be too much?)

I love living in Arizona for many reasons, one of which is the incredible beauty of the desert.

See more photos from my road trip yesterday here.

~AK

“What every woman wants … a great career, a good man, and comfortable shoes — lots and lots of them.”

– Catherine Bell on JAG.

[In the October Real Living, which I am really liking.]

We are home from San Antonio. It is a lovely city, with a Nordstrom, yummy Mexican food and bagel shops. I officially approve, with one caveat. The weather is rotten. Apparently they are having hurricane-influenced heat, and YES I know I shouldn’t complain because the storm didn’t hit us, but sweet Jesus it is hot in Texas right now. And humid. And surprisingly hilly in northern San Antonio.

Thankfully, I’m back to my dry heat, she types, dryly. 

I’m now reading, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I’m planning on cooking sesame chicken for dinner. I’m knitting a purple beanie — photos to be posted later in the week. I’m waiting for my BackTack sewing pattern to arrive. I’m shopping for quilting supplies — surely my next artistic endeavor. I’m squinting at this computer after having too many “waiting for the plane to arrive” margaritas. Oy. Or more appropriately, ay!

Bon weekend a tous,

AK

Three days a week, I meet my running buddy on the canals. We run 4-5 miles on the dusty path, making the turn to head back the gym just as the sun is peeking over the Superstitions in the east. Sunrise in Arizona is hard to beat. The sky is alive in color – hues that changes by the second. If you can get past the long line of utility poles in this photo, you can kind of see what I’m trying to describe.

I’ve yet to find a more peaceful way than greeting the new day with a long run and a moment to notice the bright morning sky.

~K

I know I promised to talk more about politics and the such, but there isn’t much on my mind lately. I did see one particularly amusing note go across the CNN scroll bar while on the treadmill yesterday. It said something about Robert Mugabe, “Mr. I’ve Killed Millions of My Own People,” tell the UN that the
US should be doing more for the victims of Katrina. Like what, Bob? Razing their homes and kicking them out on the streets? Keeping antiretrovirals for only friends of government employees? Starving political dissidents and assassinating those who just won’t give up?

Um, yeah. Let’s not get me going on this particularly non-productive rant.

As far as entertainment gossip goes, I’m pleasantly surprised to hear of Rebecca Romijn’s engagement to Jerry O’Connell. Not that I care about either one particularly, but I think it is refreshing in a time when celebrity marriages are being given about as much respect at diamond collared chihuahuas. Tori Spelling and her husband — splitsville. Jamie Lynn DiScala (Meadow!) and her way too cute Italian hubby — done. Paris is stepping out on fiancé Paris. Renee and Kenney — she had you at goodbye. And it’s just Tuesday. Let’s see who’s on the chopping block by Friday. I loved Rebecca and Uncle Jesse and I’m glad to hear she’s found new happiness. I hope this one lasts. I hope it is Newman marriage. Everyone should be so lucky. I am a sucker for romance and gossip and am therefore rooting for Denise and Charlie and Kate and Orlando.

Anyone bored yet? Let’s return to our previously scheduled craft talk, shall we?

I have a slew of yarn I am not using. It is of all different weights and colors. Some of it was sent to me during the African knits project and some was given to me by my grandmother. If you would like any or all of this yarn, shoot me an email. If you live out of state, we’ll work out the postage. I just want it out of my yarn bin. It is overflowing and my tiny living quarters are not expanding at the rate I am purchasing craft supplies.

UPDATE: Said yarn has been claimed. Rebs, Stephanie and Shanna — skeins are headed your way.

I am currently knitting Christmas gifts and brainstorming BackTack project details. I’m not cooking anything tonight, but instead going out to my favorite joint for a burger and beer with a girlfriend. I’m loving my new Rebel and fancy “zoomy” lens that arrived yesterday. I’m traveling to San Antonio later this week for golf, shopping and eating bbq. I am reading “Freakonomics” and am surprised that I’m still enjoying a nonfiction book after more than 100 pages. It has made me realize that I am not as honest of a person as I should be. If you’ve read it, you know what I mean. I’m working on my novel, reading lots of craft blogs and begging Mother Earth to please, please turn down the thermostat already. We’re above 100 again and frankly, I’m hot and ready for a pleasantly cool fall. (If my eating habits were any sign of the weather, we’d already be celebrating fall. I had a pumpkin bagel and a pumpkin spice latte this morning. Something should have told me it wasn’t going to be any cooler if I drank a piping hot latte. Oy.)

~AK

 P.S. I’ve also apparently found the time to fine-tune my secret CD imploding skills.

I heard from my BackTack secret pal. I thought her questions were thoughtful and worthy of sharing. And really, I’m sure you aren’t sick of hearing about this project yet. I promise to return to something other than crafting soon enough…

I noticed on your blog the Amy Butler Patterns and well if you don’t mind if I steal your idea since you do like those patterns. Would you like me to make you the Nappy Bag or Madison Bag? Or a bag of your preference?

I do like the Amy Butler bags a bunch! I’m trying to think what I need a bag for. I travel a bunch and it would be great to have an overnight bag – a big bag I could put a change of clothes in. I would like any bag you enjoyed making.

What are your favorite colors? Colors you hate?

My favorite color is turquoise. I like blue, yellow, pink and purple too. Strangely enough, I typically wear black, white and denim, but with colorful accents.

I’m not a fan of neons.

What type of craft or crafts would you like to try?

I would like to learn how to make basic quilts. My mom and Denise Schmidt are inspirations. I would also love to learn how to make more detailed aprons and learn how to embroider.

Oh, and it would be great to learn how to make an awesome loaf of bread. I love to bake.

Totally not interested in trying?

Really, I’m up for just about anything.

What is your favorite food?

Chicken tostadas with black beans and a tart margarita. Yum. I also love sushi, shredded wheat, Red Vines, mint chocolate chip ice cream, any fresh fruit or vegetable, pumpkin pie, and chips and salsa. There are days when I eat these things together, if you can imagine. I cook for one. Is it obvious?

Would never eat even if you were on a deserted island?

Mayonnaise. Ew, ew, ew. Gross.

Do you have any pet peeves or total dislikes I should know about while
putting together your kit or tote?

No. My major pet peeve is people who eat popcorn like heathens at the movie theater, impeding my ability to hear the flick. But then again, I mowed down a rather large bag of popcorn this weekend while thoroughly enjoying Red Eye.

What scents do you like? Hate?

I love pumpkin, peppermint and coconut.

I dislike vanilla.

What is it like having Betty Crocker as a mom?

She is a fantastic lady and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to appreciate her domestic talents. I wish I had started baking and knitting years ago!

Anything else you’d like to know?

UPDATE: I forgot to mention how much I love pretty stationery. Love it. In all shapes and sizes. I am an excellent pen pal and send 2-5 handwritten notes every week to family and friends around the world. This would be a much appreciated notion that could be included. (Too direct?)

~AK