Me-Made-May... could I do it?

I have been debating whether to sign up to Zoe's Me-Made-May '13. In terms of knitwear, it wouldn't be that much of a challenge for me, as I already wear at least one hand-knit item everyday, and can often be found swaddled in a veritable yarn cocoon of shawls and cardigans. For sewing, though, it would be an enormous undertaking, as I only really have one self-stitched item that I wear regularly (and I've not even blogged about it - I must rectify that). I do, however, have a moderate stash of both patterns and fabric, a lovely sewing machine and a sincere wish to become better acquainted with it. 

Also, although I do have a lot of me-made knitwear, when I imagine displaying it again on this blog, I have to admit that some of it is looking a little tired; perhaps it is time to sift through my collection and make way for some new additions. Speaking of which, I am finally making some progress on Beatnik, which has been waiting patiently, sometimes in the freezer to protect it from moths.

Ugh - red is so hard to photograph. As you can see, I'm nearly finished with the front and the back, and just have to knit two sleeves and a neckband - and seam the whole darn thing together, of course. I cannot remember why I decided to knit this in pieces, but I heartily regret that decision. 

Is anyone else thinking of joining the Me-Made-May madness? Do you think it's a crazy idea on my part? I'm currently trying to formulate exactly what goals I would set myself... It's been quite an interesting exercise just thinking about what are the most gaping gaps in my wardrobe, and which of those I could conceivably fill with my limited sewing skillz. Unofficially taking part in NaKniSweMoDo* back in 2009 was a real boost to my sweater collection - I feel like I need just such a challenge to kickstart my garment sewing. Oh, and I'm finding The Great British Sewing Bee quite inspirational as well - has anyone else been watching?

*National Knit a Sweater in a Month Dodecathon!

Cream-crackered Crafting

Late-night crafting and me do not mix, it seems. I had been feeling so smug about Kingscot: 'Why would anyone knit it in pieces when it's such a piece of cake doing it seamlessly?' I thought to my smug self, smugly. I finished the armhole decreases last night and stopped to check my stitch count. Both fronts were A-OK. The back... hang on a second, that can't be right, let me count that again. No, I still appeared to be short not one, not two but TEN STITCHES. Part of me was upset and more than a little mystified. Another part - the fearless, nocturnal adventurer part - saw this as an exciting opportunity to do what this blog's name suggests: to drop stitches, and hook them back to the path of righteousness.

It was rather enjoyable watching stitches that had been bound together reassuming their own separate identities, as I crocheted them back up the rungs of the dropped-stitch ladder. I was nearing the end of my knitting emergency rescue, when I glanced down to double check just how many stitches I should have. And saw that I had been looking at the wrong bit of the pattern. And had had the right number of stitches to begin with. So I had to drop all of my newly-created stitches and re-decrease them, by which time I think I may have been wielding my hook with more than a little frustration, resulting in this slight pulling of stitches. Stitches which had of course been totally fine to begin with.

So this evening I decided to change crafting tack and get better acquainted with - or, rather, introduce myself to - my sewing machine.

Other than giving a foot pedal a nervous little tap in the shop where I chose my machine, I hadn't done any sewing since my last Home Economics class when I was about 13, and even then I wasn't really paying attention (out of laziness masquerading as ersatz feminism). Since I have started perusing awesome sewing blogs, such as 'So, Zo...' (she made pants!) and Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing, and have become aware of the repository of gorgeousness that is Colette Patterns I have been longing to learn. I bought myself some inexpensive muslin, and screwed my courage to the sticking-place. A cautious straight stitch went fairly smoothly. I tried seaming two pieces together; also ok. This sewing malarkey was not as tricky as I thought! Then the curvaceous form of #26 caught my eye. I popped on my satin stitch foot...

... with a bit less success...

I was a little indignant at that woeful, shrivelled leaf. #26 wasn't going to get the better of me. I tried again... I'm almost too embarrassed to show the result.

I forgot to drop my presser foot, and my fabric was sucked down into the hell-mouth of the needle-plate. Instead of a playful leaf, I basically created a monstrous muslin arsehole. There was a hairy (maybe not a good word to use so close to arsehole) moment when I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to liberate the offending scrap from my machine. Just as I managed to unwedge it, my desk lamp flickered out, plunging me into stygian gloom. Curses.

So it hasn't been a very productive couple of nights. I know I'm more liable to make mistakes when I'm exhausted, but then it can be hard to find time during the day... have you found a solution to this? I'd also love to hear about other people's nocturnal crafting mishaps, to stop me feeling so sorry for myself.

And sew it goes...

I'd like to introduce my most exciting birthday present; I will be sure to document my adventures with it here. I should also be able to share my Christmas knitting just as soon as I manage to pin the recipients down and photograph them. In the meantime, I do hope you are all having delightful festive seasons!