Last Little Bear for awhile, I promise.
This one's a bit nervous about leaving home and heading out into the Wide World.
So she has a chaperone, who has faithfully promised that no harm to will come to her.
That he will stick by her, through thick and thin.
Forever and ever.
Amen.
Recycled blanket wool, 1970s cotton velvet, silk.
By Shula, 2008.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Very Big Bear to make.
I shit you not,
Tinkerbell is her Real Name.
Though the bear, strictly speaking, is for Tink's impending baby,
Who will, perhaps, be a fiery wee redhead, with Magic Hands, like his mum.
And if he headstands half as elegantly as she does,
He's likely to live a Very Long Time.
So I made this bear to last.
45cm. Recycled blanket wool, silk, cotton, cashmere.
By Shula. Face design by Mym.
Little Dog back at home and doing nicely. Or, in the word(s) of her Vietnamese family, 'oknoproblemshefinenow', which I understand to mean the thumbs up.
Sick Kid slowly turning back into a human.
Shula back in the studio, suggesting that her wits just might be in the process of gathering.
It struck me, some time close to dawn this morning, as I sewed up bear tummies, that the stitches looked like surgical sutures. By lamplight, this gave them a spookily post-operative, Frankensteinian appearance. I wondered, vaguely, if this process might be hurting the bears at all.
And it's at this point, when you find yourself considering the best way to administer sedatives to a stuffed toy, that you very quietly down tools, slowly back away from the work table,
And take yourself off to bed.
Lots of yoga, this weekend.
Lots of yoga.
So, nothing else to report, but we do bring you another shot of the Plumber's Crack, just because we're so inordinately fond of it, and because I never did show you his tail, which is cute in a warty sort of way.
Very Important Blogmeet, tomorrow. One that's been a Long Time Coming.
And I haven't a Thing to Wear.
What, do you suppose, is the collective noun for ears?
A listening of ears, perhaps?
A hearing of ears?
A rock concert of ears?
Hmmm...
And what of arms? How do you describe a grouping of upper limbs?
Ah, now, that one's easy.
It's an army of arms, of course.
Sometimes I'm so witty, I freak myself out.
No two ways about it.
By Shula. Recycled blanket wool, silk. 55cm.
Okay, so that's it, I'm off. I have an overwhelming urge to head north, to wear a polyester tracksuit and sing 'Every sperm is sacred' on station platforms, sporting a beatific smile and one of those dear little mini-backpacks.
Not.
Who in their Non-Christian Right Mind would travel to Sydney during World Youth Week?
I s'pose it could be worse. Could be World Youth Crack Week.
However, if I don't post by next Friday, someone send out a search party. I may need de-briefing.
Even the bear looks worried.
Hard to tell, really.
One thing is certain: she does look like she's holding a pie.
But she's 100% childproof, and that makes me happy. Call me old fashioned, but I'm trying to produce toys, here, that aren't potentially deadly for Really Little Children.
43cm. Recycled blanket wool, silk, hand embroidery. By Shula. Face design by Mym.
The Bear needs More Work.
He has a number of Technical Problems, not the least of which is a nose that looks like a fungus growth.
Never mind. Mym likes him, so now he belongs to her.
What to do when the dog eats the eyes off your toy puppy, unwittingly removing its entire face in the process?
No worries. Just build him a new one.
Proving, once and for all, that skin graft rejections can be effectively minimised by the liberal application of navy blue wool
