something the cat dragged in?

I don't have a cat, but if I did, there's a chance my latest project might turn out to be something the cat dragged in, assuming the cat drags a blue fuzzy snood through the door.

It all started when I got all inspired last weekend and decided I wanted to create a scarf with a hood attached. I googled away until I found a pattern on the internet. I printed the pattern, and then, rather than cut it out and follow it, I eyeballed it.

Note to self: Eyeballing. Not a good idea.

With fervid industry, I cut out my pattern from a nuno felted scarf that I had made. I then pinned things together and asked my sweet husband to sew it for me. That clever, clever man! He asked me if he could see the pattern, and I assured him that it was unnecessary because I knew exactly what to do.

Note to self: Must stop lying to husband.

So, he got out the sewing machine, plunked down my project, and promptly broke the needle on the sewing machine running over my pinning.

Eventually, he got a new needle in and sewed things up. We rested the scood, for that is what we were making, on my head, and my husband said, "Umm... you look like Sister Bertrille. Was that what you wanted?"

Err... no, I did not want to look like the Flying Nun. My sweet patookie valiantly offered to take the stitches out so I could try again, but it seemed to me that it was only appropriate that I suffer for my eyeballing decision, so I took it apart myself. And then I cut out the pattern.

Note to self: Wow! What a huge difference cutting out the pattern makes!

From there, taping the pattern together seemed like the next most amazingly brilliant brain fart.

Some reconstruction was necessary for the next round of pinning, because I must confess that the first time I eyeballed the pattern, it seemed to me that the middle piece (there are three pieces) was too long, so I eyeballed it and cut off the extra stuff.

Note to self: Really?

So, I pinned everything together, including the piece that I had cut off, and set my sweet sweet man to work.

There was much sighing. Apparently sewing together a project like this from a loosely organized nuno felted conglomeration of fiber isn't easy. I can remember thinking "Three straight lines, snip snip, how hard can this be?" But my sweet sweet man was having trouble with the tension, or the thread, or the sewing machine, or something. Anyway, eventually he finished, and I had myself a snood.

If you were to look too closely at my snood, you might notice that one side of the scarf was longer than the other. My sweet husband and I concluded that it just made my snoody wrap more efficiently around my neck. And with the snood on, I no longer look like a nun. All in all, this is the ugliest thing I've made so far, but I really like it, because I like to take walks with my handsome husband, and so on cold days I can wear the hood until I get too warm, and then use it as a scarf.