Better late than never: two more pairs of lol-slippers!

Last year, I gave lol-slippers to my mum as Christmas present. I also gave Deniselle a pair of her own, a Christmas gift in name, but no sooner than earlier this month! That’s why I couldn’t show them here earlier – I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for her. As for mum’s slippers, obviously she has had them at my childhood home, and I kept forgetting to take photos whenever I visit my parents. But now I finally have photos to show both of them off!

Hmm, maybe we could make it a tradition to exchange xmas presents in March or April, since it’s such a long time until my birthday and next Christmas… Anyway, in exchange for lol-slippers, Deniselle gave me fridge magnet poetry!

It’s a collection of words and punctuation marks in the form of fridge magnets that I can use to compose sentences, poetry in particular, by arranging them around on my fridge. I tried to group them according to word class, but soon discovered that my powers of classifying Finnish are less than perfect.

But let’s move on to the slippers! The pattern is from here, the Ravelry link is here. They are called Peter Pan’s slippers, but since mine always turn out too big, I call them lol-slippers.

Here are Deniselle’s slippers:

Deniselle really, really liked them! I guessed her taste in colors quite well – I don’t like blue much myself, but I don’t have a problem making something for someone else in colors that I don’t like. She thought they look absolutely hilarious with the pointy toes, which fits her endearingly silly personality very well indeed.

And here are mum’s slippers:

Mum commented that the pointy toes seem to want her to keep turning to the left all the time. They twist like that because I wasn’t careful enough with lining up the sides properly when I sewed them together.

Just like my dad’s slippers, these are huge. The cat in the photo is about the size of a real cat! The weird thing is, they are 12 rows and too big for mum, but at the same time the 10-row slipper she crocheted herself turned out too small for a friend of hers who has big feet for a woman. And when I asked Amoena about the size, she recalled she may have made only 8 rows in slippers she gave to a male friend of hers! Strange.

In any case, mum was thrilled with the colors and she decided she wants to try to make her own to give out as presents. She used to crochet, knit and sew her own clothes when she was young, because back then she was too poor to buy her clothes ready-made. She used to have a decent skill at it at least, so no reason why she couldn’t re-learn it.

So I urged her to buy  a crochet hook (her old ones were so short that they felt difficult to use) and some yarn, so I could teach her some basics before I have a 3 week break before my next Irish dance classes. She obeyed and I translated and printed out Finnish instructions for the slippers. As soon as she made her first double crochet, she immediately exclaimed “ooohh this is fun!”. Hooked from the first stitch! I had to draw a detailed series of pictures as a reminder of how to make the first slipknot and the first stitches in a magic ring, but otherwise she got the hang of the different stitches very quickly.

So the next time I’ll show her how to make hexagons (see on the sidebar in my projects – oh dear, I’ve completely neglected to blog about my hexagon blanket that I also gave to mum?!), since the slippers are quite fast to make and can get boring really quick. I can’t wait. It’s fun to spread the joy of handicraft.

Must needs to start thinking.

Thanks to the wonderfully boring and never-ending holiday of Easter, I’ve really been hit by the boredom of my life lately.

Two of my usual workout sessions cancelled along with the weekly painting class, all because of some stupid Christian non-event which someone decided to stick in the place of some heathen event celebrating something slightly more sensible I’m sure.

I have been completely spoiled by the atelier environment in the painting classes. There’s so much room, so much light from a long wall of windows, big(gish) tables empty and waiting for you to lay your stuff on them and start painting. At home, I have a desk with a laptop on it, and plenty of other stuff that needs to be gotten rid of before I can start arranging my painting gear on the same space.

Or maybe I’ve just become even lazier than I used to be. I don’t need much money to get by, rent is ridiculous and Lidl provides ample yet affordable nourishment. Money’s guaranteed, jobs aren’t. I still haven’t applied for post-grad studies because I’m too lazy to go all the way to Kela to ask if I could still get their money if I’m a student, theoretically more productive than an unemployed version of me.

But I don’t wanna! I spent over 6 years studying and I’ve had enough. Granted, it wouldn’t technically be the same. I would only be doing whatever I want with my own research, but it’s not that simple. There’s so much stuff I don’t want to deal with right now. Like being confident about your topic and defending its purpose in conferences, or to others at the uni. Anyone else pretty much. I hate the competitive side. I’m not competitive with anyone else but myself.

I don’t know why I see the other postgrads as enemies. It’s some kind of a gut reaction, derived from some deep sense of self-worthlessness and inferiority. I find it very hard to push myself from this happy, if somewhat boring place where for the first time in a very long time I can actually say I am content, even happy. Every day is not a chore no more and I even look forward to living a long life. But there’s a line, I think, between being content and being complacent. One means wanting to keep living your life, the other means you think you deserve all and more than you’re getting.

Oh well. I don’t know why finishing my research plan seems like such an insurmountable obstacle. Perhaps it is because I would very much like to get accepted at Langnet with full funding for 4 years and they only take brilliant students and brilliant research plans. I know that my biggest hurdle is communicating my topic in plain English to people who don’t know anything about it. Much easier said than actually done. I wonder if popularizing your research isn’t the most challenging part of it. How to explain in lay terms something that doesn’t exist in lay terms?

Long shory stort, I’m trying to regain my focus by reading some relevant literature, trying to come up with ideas and hypotheses to look into. In other words, a nice way of spending some time sitting on the sofa and pretending to be useful.

P.S. I’m absolutely in love with this new WordPress bug which causes the save button not to save your post until you refresh your browser and lose whatever it didn’t save before. (EDIT: Apparently it works for the publish button as well! Super.)

Sofi Oksanen painting = fail.

Once upon a time, I felt inspired to paint Sofi Oksanen, the latest Finnish author to win the prestigious Finlandia Prize. Not only is she a goth chick, she also has interesting features. Her apparently nonchalant basic expression conceals an intelligent, idealistic and thoughtful woman. I haven’t read any of her books, but I plan to. My wild guess is they didn’t hand out that prize to her for nothing.

Long shory stort, she’s fully deserving of a portrait. One painted by me, now that’s a whole another matter. But doesn’t stop me from trying.

I knew from the start that it wasn’t going to end well. I was more anxious to paint anything, rather than Sofi and Sofi alone. I decided I’m too lazy to go for as perfect resemblance as I can, which basically means my whole heart wasn’t in it. Thusly, I started hating the painting long before I got to the point it is at now.

But since it’s Sofi, I must say there are some minor things I like about the painting. I like the scarlet around the eyes and eyebrows, and the salmon-y hue on the chin and the right temple contrasting against the white skin. I like scarlet and salmon a lot.

Other than that, this painting was a disappointing attempt. I shall paint it over some day and make another attempt, or it will haunt me forever with is accusing eyes.