Posts Tagged ‘man scarves’

The Man Collection has begun. I posted 3 Man Scarves on Etsy. Look>>>>>(press “Dahlila.” Go ahead. It won’t bite.) That’s my shop.

 Cole in taupe man scarf

Cole, the super sweet guy in the photos works at the cafe. What a smile! The scarf has a sm. pocket in lemongrass wool. The button is hand lathed black walnut made by Harvey. Harvey is a retired widow, shows up for iced tea at precisely 2p.m. and makes beautiful wood bowls. He even made one for me. 🙂 What would I do w/o the cafe? My little neighborhood family.

 The wrist warmers are modeled by Lola, who works at the cafe too. She has lovely hands.

Lemongrass Wrist Warmers


Meanwhile, Mallie named her darling stray dog Roscoe. I’m glad he found a home. I went to the pound today, and the pitbull (who I’ve secretly named Sweetness) is still alive in quarantine. Couldn’t see her. I saw a lot of pitbulls. I hate the pound. It makes me sad.

In other news, I found ANOTHER dog yesterday. ??? Or actually it found me. I was having coffee when this black lab appeared in front of me. Tail between her legs, choke collar. She was scared, scared, scared. I got some turkey from the cook. She took it from my fingers, but backed away fast. I tried to slip Zephyr’s leash around her, but she wasn’t falling for it. I called animal control. . . again. Sigh.

Unfortunately, the guy was a bozo. I’d been coaxing her towards me, keeping her close, off the street. This dip wad walks right up onto her, calling and waving the leash. (Normally I’d go into a very long rant about stupid people, but I will abstain to save space, but know I was VERY annoyed). Needless, he chased the dog right into the street. (Big surprise!)  I mentioned there were about a dozen other ways he might have handled that. He made a snide remark then drove after the dog–because that’s always effective.

I let it go, with GREAT difficulty. I had work to do, but I gestured skyward w/a grand universal shrug and question mark. Still, I see a letter to the city animal shelter w/this guys badge # on it. Sigh . . . .

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I am reading my new camera instructions. It’s amazing how quickly my eyes glaze over, and how little info. I’m retaining. It makes me wonder how I got through college.

This camera has options, plural. Do-dads galore. I rather prefer fewer choices. Too many, too much and I just walk away. For example, the supermarket toothpaste aisle. I rarely remember what I bought before. Was it extra super-duper white w/fizzy bubble technology? Or All-day fighting action whitening w/baking soda time release. . . . and I know I’m not alone. Just look down that aisle, or pick another: toilet paper–soft, bulky, smooth, powerhouse, fragrant, floral, colorful; or deodorant: womanly, manly, unisex, extra dry, extra fruity, spicy, flowery, w/baby powder, w/anti-persperant. . .

the store is a zombie zone. Poor working sods, 8 o’clock at night, staring blankly at detergent brands, salad dressing. Family size? Store brand? Coupon sale? It’s amazing we make it out alive.

But back to the camera. I’m learning. Right now I treat it like a precious time bomb–my technological gizmo freeze-up: I’m afraid if I press the wrong button it will blow, fizzle, die. The Help Dept. will say, “You pressed THAT button? Oh, god. . . you should never do that–or switch this, or press those two buttons in unison.”

I will get past it, I think. When all else fails, when the battery fizzles, the screen flashes, the whatever counts down to zero, I simply unplug it, go to coffee, take a walk, eat chocolate, ignore it. And sometimes it works.


Yarn and such: I added cherry wood buttons made by my friend and neighbor, H. H. has made me two beautiful wood bowls, a small jewelry box and now some buttons. He loves working with wood and I love what he makes. Thank you, H.

Two man scarves get these buttons; the others get vintage ones. The scarves look clean, urban, simple. No fringe or flapping ends. And I’ve found several good men to model them. I’m very excited.

Oh, and Lost is back on tomorrow night. Life is pretty good.


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So, in honor of the holiday. . . I went shopping. Not to be rude, but that really seems to be what people do in this city–shop. I’ve never seen more sq. mall-footage than here. It’s mostly sad, but that’s the way it is.

I thought yarn would cheer me up (still feeling blue about my Etsy shop), but I got overwhelmed. Colors, textures, wool, cashmere, fuzzy, smooth. I wanted to dive in and take it all. But I’m living on the “can’t buy too much until I sell something” mantra. Still,  if I don’t have a nice variety to sell. . . .

Yarn (like any other kinesthetic medium) needs to be rotated. I’ve crocheted fuchsia wool felting yarn into the ground. Time for a new texture, color, style. Plus, I need to work on my new line of Harlequin frames. I’ve got lots to do, and yet I’m slacking or, maybe, distracted. It’s hard to tell. 

But back to yarn and art supplies. I’m a wee girl in a candy store. I want to touch, work, mold, spin, sew, cut, stitch, paint, create with everything. One medium will never do. I want to play with it all. So, I’ll make a pile of button bracelets, bobbles and beads everywhere, then move on to yarn, make a couple dozen scarves, arm warmers, scarflettes, then pick up collaging. It’s all very random and subject to sleep, mood, temperature, food, coffee and weather. Crocheting is tops for winter creative flow. It keeps my fingers busy (I was a terribly fidgety child and that hasn’t changed much in however many years) and I can stitch and watch CSI while Zephyr uses me as a lap blanket; yarn and hook in one hand, English tea and romote in the other. No table required. 😉

Well, it’s been a very chilly rainy day. I need tea and a hot bath. Home–there’s no place better.

P.S. I did buy yarn, 5 or 6 skeins. Some for felting, some for man wear–urban scarves, mod-ware, metro-sexual pizazz. I haven’t decided what to call it, but men need accessories too–even when they don’t know it. 😉


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