Okay, so this new Baby Yub Nub Scoodie crochet pattern is looooooong overdue, but coming soon, I promise! And knitters, please don’t fret. I haven’t forgotten you, so expect something coming (less) soon, but still in the works.
Wow! I am super flattered that Lion Brand Yarn featured my Yub Nub Scoodie pattern on their facebook page!
Check it out – my Yub Nub Scoodie pattern has been featured by the good folks at geekcrafts.com!
Also, congrats to Cynthia who won this lovely felted moebius basket from the February giveaway!
I met Tom Collins as a high school student when he was asked to judge a school art competition. He welcomed me into his studio and taught me about lost wax casting jewelry design. He was truly a master of his art and in my humble opinion, remains unmatched to this day. I’ve never met anyone who could paint in wax and silver like him. His cherubs had souls. He could tell an entire story on a ring. His crucifixes made you believe. You are missed, Mr. Collins. Rest in peace.
Thomas Lynn Collins
April 27, 1945 – December 11, 2000
Thomas Lynn Collins was known as a master artist
and craftsman. His one-of-a-kind work has been
showcased nation-wide at Neiman Marcus to the
Jackson Hole Trader catalog. He was well known to
Dallas area jewelry designers, such as Andrea
Barnett for his craftsmanship. His work also
included carved intricate sculptures from dragons
to angels in stone and fine metals. Tom enriched
the community by mentoring art students and
teaching them how to carve in wax. In 1999 Tom
organized several artists in the community to start
the Rockwall Artists League. His family set up the
original scholarship fund upon his death for
donations instead of flowers. The scholarship fund
has been continued by the Rockwall Art League in
Tom’s memory because of his devotion to the arts
It was an accident. I didn’t notice her slip into the studio unannounced before I quietly shut the door before bedtime.
She spent the night. With the paint brushes. And the yarn. And the various projects delicately strewn about.
The last time (there was only one time before), she spent her studio time triumphantly unraveling the baby sweater I was knitting for a gift. Last time was a pink nightmare of tangled string, like a massive spider web, wrapped around every piece of furniture in the room. This is why she’s not allowed in the studio unattended.
I awoke to a gentle meowing cry. I thought it was coming from outside. Groggily, like a horror story plot twist, I realized the call was from inside the house. More specifically, THE STUDIO. I took a deep breath before I opened the door. I was afraid to open my eyes as she slipped past innocently strolling to the food dish in the kitchen.
I summoned bravery and looked. No massive reorganization of all my fibers into a giant spaghetti replica. No time shift into a torturous alternate universe of disaster.
Just a few items from my desk, arranged in a neat row on the floor – my ipod in it’s crocheted gnome cover, a coaster and two pieces from an amigurumi toast that I’ve never managed to sew together.
A warning, for the next time.