DIY for everything!

Sometimes I swear I'd be happier on a commune somewhere in a forest or a desert, with just an excellent internet connection and decent mail service to keep us in touch with the outside world.

Either that, or I'm just too picky for a world where we're encouraged to make the mass market, one-size-fits-all choice.

I recently checked out this Nivea eye cream, more for the part about hiding shadows (which I always have, no matter how much sleep I get) than for the spokesmodel dancing around in her PJs during the TV ad. It's lovely stuff, but I keep thinking, "This little 14g jar cost as much to buy as it does to make 750g of day cream at home." Before this venture back into commercial preparations, I'd been using the home-made day cream under my eyes for over a year, and that part of my face isn't any more wrinkly than when I started.

So, I've been thinking. What if I took my Froosh day cream recipe and added some reflective agents? If it doesn't work, I'll be out $10 of ingredients (with the reflective agents, maybe $12-$15) and 45 minutes. That's not any worse than walking out on a bad movie.

The only really bad part is that 250g of cream used on my entire face lasts over a year, so 750g... eh well, I have great friends who are happy to get free day cream.

knitting and listening

Last Sunday I went to a story-telling festival at Harbourfront (see my main blog for details), and decided there was no way I was going to be able to sit still without some knitting. It's not that I expected the telling to be bad; I had high expectations based on what friends who had been previous years had said, and I wasn't disappointed. But I know me, and I know it was either knit or grind my teeth. For someone who had a reputation as being patient and quiet as a child, I've never been able to sit still well. I think I just learned to cope early on.

I added to my list of things to work on because I couldn't find the pair of socks I already had on the go [sigh]. On the other hand, this was the next pair of socks I was going to work on anyhow, so in a way it's all good (and more stash reduction!). The yarn is some Lana Grossa self-striping stuff my mum got me last time she was back home in Holland.

Mystery solved -- mittens lost

I just became self-employed in the past year. That means that last week I took all my envelopes of receipts, remittances, and government forms to my new accountant (he actually has lots of experience, but he's new to me).

The conundrum was that I needed a bag to put all my envelopes of papers into. It's a tough call -- you don't want to use a bag you're going to need, but you don't want to show up with a bag that looks stupid, either.

I duly dug around in my Box of Bags, and discovered a plain black messenger bag I hadn't looked at in a while. Wow, I thought to myself, this is in good shape. I should start using it again. I remembered that I used to over-fill it and kill my shoulder with the weight, but the bag was in great shape -- just needed some brushing down.


I opened it up to check if I'd left anything inside, and discovered a dark grey pair of hand-made mittens. Perfect! I'm constantly losing/ruining mittens, and the ones I made this year were crap because I was too lazy to dig up the pattern I'd been using since I was twelve years old and I screwed up the thumb shaping (in different ways on each mitten). So I tried the newly-discovered ones on, figuring I could put them away with my other winter things and be ahead of the game for once next winter. It was also nice to find this pair again, because I remembered losing them, and got the satisfaction of that "A-ha!" moment when what was lost becomes found again.

There was only one problem.

Moths had found the left one before I had.

Stash reduction

Last Saturday I gave a Rubbermaid chest-of-drawers to a friend. It was stuck in one of my closets; I didn't need it.

Yarn doesn't work that way with me. Nor does thread, buttons, beads, canvas, or anything else you can make something out of. The Oma who taught me how to knit always told me never to give yarn away, and I find that, except on rare occasions, I really can't. Make something and then give it away, sure, but not the raw product, not unless it's going to stay in the family.

So it works like this: if you know me, you know that I always have a perfectly silly amount of projects on the go. I've decided to knock them off in short-term plans. The main goal is to reduce stash.

Here, for instance, are the short-term knitting plans:

• scribble lace jacket from the Debbie New Unexpected Knitting book: 100% stash. Unfortunately, it doesn't take much yarn.


• birthday presents for a friend of mine (already late, but just wait on the photos for when they're done!). I still have the crazy idea I can do these this week and then post them to her on Saturday.


• crocheted plastic shopping bags from Canadian Living -- despite carrying around a reusable shopping bag everywhere, I still have tons of plastic bags.

The name of the game is to avoid reverse stash reduction. That's when you start something to reduce stash, and think to yourself, "That's great! I just need to buy ------- to finish it, and I'll use up all this stuff!" Then you wind up buying more than you use up.


This happened recently to me with a necklace and earrings set I made (sorry about the crappy photo -- the colours are much better in real life). I love how they turned out, but I wound up two vials of seed beads and assorted 4mm beads up in stash when it was supposed to be going down. I'm going to make a bracelet to match and another necklace of a different pattern, just to use up some more beads. It helps that I like jewelry, but hopefully you see the forces at work here.

The big questions are: how do we DIY without turning into the consumers we were at least partly hoping to not be? DIY is supposed to be about getting it your own way and (hopefully) saving some money by making something better than you can afford ready-made -- how did it get to be about buying more stuff?