Fricknits

Not If I See You First

It was two years ago that I started this blog- right after Maryland Sheep and Wool '06.  Boy, has a lot happened since then.

Biscuit grew up.

Fricklet appeared on the scene.

I edited an edition of Yarnival, hosted some contests, won some contests, joined Flickr, joined Ravelry, knit a whole mess of stuff, learned some basic crochet, fended off the urge to spin (though a certain someone who shall remain nameless has designated herself my spinny godmother/pusher), ran Ravelraiser ($71,000!  $71,000!!), opened an Etsy shop...what am I missing?

Oh, yes- I've made SO many friends...who have never actually seen me in person.

(Gloria cowl in Knittery Sock yarn won in one of the aforementioned contests from Nora Raveled here.)

I think I could get away without being recognized at MDSW pretty easily.  And it's tempting.  After all, in person I'm way awkward and nervous and dorky.  I've only ever shown my face once or twice around here, and you'd have to dig to find those posts.  But my cover's gonna totally be blown because El Biscuit-o is going to be my escort, and he's pretty hard to disguise (though a tiny mustache would be AWESOME, no?).   So I'll see you there!  And the world will finally know the truth-

I do, in fact, have a forehead.

PS- New set is up in the shop, and it's my favorite so far!  Take a peek:  Treat Yourself.

Fricknotes

Do you have one of these?

It's my treasure box.  Organized it is not.  The broken ceramic picture frame with the little pink and blue ducks on it that was given to me by my fifth grade boyfriend to hold his class picture mingles with my Eurail pass and the record-breaking 21-page note my best friend Julienne wrote me in eighth grade.  The Fricklet's sono-glamour shot is tucked beneath the letter my Pop wrote to me when he decided that a poem I wrote him in high school secured my place in "Pop's Hall of Fame" next to Joe Louis and Babe Ruth.  It's a jungle in there.

But when I stand back to take the long view, it's clear what most of my memories are made of: paper.  Specifically, letters and notes.  I come from a long line of prolific letter writers.  My Granny still writes a letter a week to each of her three daughters- a tradition that began with each of their weddings.  My box contains letters from best friends, from my MFA advisors, from loved ones living and gone, from the boyfriends of my awkward adolescence. There's air mail from Madagascar, Holland, and Spain.   Some of the letters make me cringe.  Some make me cry.  Others make me laugh out loud.  They're all treasures.

Do you have one of these?

It's my own stationery...station.  Increasingly, as I've come to appreciate the handmade over the mass-made, it's filled with Etsy finds. Which brings me to Fricknotes.  A father-daughter venture.  A fiber lover plus a pro photographer.  Something new!  I'm really excited about it and would love to hear your thoughts on the shop. 

People are always saying that letter-writing is a lost art.  I don't know about art, but I do know about treasure.  Write a letter today, will ya?