This is Noby, the naughty gnome who pops up in the strangest places around here. Ususally after he's done something particularly cheeky. Where did Christmas go? It went by in a blur of wrapping paper, Bing Crosby and Dean Martin on the record player, a good-spirits-and-wine-fuelled charades marathon that went on until we could no longer stand (so it morphed into a few rounds of Pictionary, naturally) and far too many truffles and gingerbread cookies. It was good.
But there's nothing like an impending birthday party to get you moving again: Stella turns 4 on the 3rd. The party is planned for the 6th. I prefer colours or shapes to actual themes, so her soiree will be a pastiche of Lightning McQueen references (Stella's idea) and my fixation on aqua, lime and white. And polka dots. It will all come together. Somehow. I'll post some pictures as I pull things together this week. Auf Wiedersehen Noby, until next year.

I finished Henry's stocking. What do you fill a 9-month old's stocking with? It's a nice teal wool with that great Denyse Schmidt print everyone loves. In typical Aquarius fashion, I don't believe in following instructions (assuming I had them) and, really, how hard can a giant sock be? The cuff gave me a little bit of trouble, which you can probably see along the right edge, but otherwise a very satisfying little project indeed. Now if only that wallpaper would arrive...

it's a marshmallow world

The results of our gingerbread-making afternoon at Loblaws. It's making the house smell delicious. And making me long for snow.

Of course not all is icing sugar and candy drops chez moi. Swiper the Fox (or was it Diego?) was flushed down the toilet under mysterious circumstances the other day. Despite our determination to ignore the rather obvious problem in the hope it would work itself out, three days without a functioning loo upstairs will eventually cause someone to cry uncle. I blinked. One emergency run to the plumbing aisle at Canadian Tire later and we've added something called a toilet auger to the cache of household tools I truly hope never again sees the light of day.

There are moments in life, usually small, insignificant moments, that make you realize, indisputably, you're grown-up. If two kids and a 1/5 share in a community snowblower weren't evidence enough, telling a 19-year old clerk you have a clogged toilet ought to do it. But then, a fit of giggles, the uncontrollable kind, struck as I was explaining who Swiper was and how he became lodged in the toilet (I forgot, see, that 19-year olds don't necessarily watch Treehouse and that something called 'swiper' is easily misunderstood when you're discussing toilets) and gave me hope that maybe I'm not 100% grown-up up after all. I certainly hope not.

bee parade

My new bee arrived, thanks to Tania Howells. There are a couple of versions and I'd really welcome feedback on which one folks like best. Please leave your comments here or email me nicole(at)honey-bunch(dot)com.

The big site redesign is just getting underway. I'll have a retooled, shiny new shop with lots more bells and whistles in March, if all goes to plan. It's been a year in the planning so I'm excited beyond reason that it's finally happening. That and my new bedroom wallpaper (please come this week, please) have me rubbing my hands in anticipation. I love a new project.

in the wee small hours...

...while the whole family is fast asleep (to paraphrase Mr. Sinatra)I'm making an apron. More accurately, learning to make an apron - hence the instructions for both the pattern and my new sewing machine laid out on the table. The apron is actually made from a vintage pillow case, culled from my collection. It called for simple twill tape ties but I opted for more sturdy and washable fabric ties, which I made from different fabric, also vintage. Thank you Hillary Lang for sharing the pattern.

It's for Stella, a Christmas gift. Lately she enjoys helping in the kitchen and I think she'll be pleased to finally have an apron her own size. The kid rolls a damn fine meatball. It's part of my handcrafted pledge this year. Fun. Happy. Tired. Proud.

I am incredibly sad that James Kim did not make it back to his family. A reminder, a terrible one, to slow down. To take note. To give extra-long hugs and one more kiss. To give thanks for my funny little girl and my sweet baby and my lovely husband.

May Kati Kim find some peace.

I love these soft felt trees. It's my first sewing-actual-fabric-with-seam-allowances project since, well, since that failed corduroy vest in Mrs. McEchearn's Home Economics Class in 1981. I put popcorn in the bottom to hold them steady (the pattern from Stephanie at Little Birds calls for rice or lentils but I was impatient to finish once the end was in sight and popcorn was the first suitable thing I could find in the pantry).

Funneling popcorn kernels into a 1" opening is a task best approached with a Zen calm. That's all I'll say. But making the trees was fun and I'm quite chuffed with how they turned out. I'm contemplating making some more embellished versions out of a lovely navy plaid wool fabric from the thrift store. Soft trees for everyone! Check out other versions of the trees at this Flickr group.

On another note, I cannot believe this story, which I first heard about on Little Birds, hasn't been all over the Canadian media. My heart leapt when I learned Kati Kim and her daughters were found safe yesterday and my thoughts are with them as they continue the search for James. Please let him be found safe.