When I was a kid I belonged to an organization called Camp Fire Girls. It was sort of like Girl Guides/Scouts, except we didn't earn neat badges when we did projects. Instead, we got coloured beads. I'm not sure who came up with that idea, but I don't think it was a particularly good one.
I was always a little jealous of my cousin Kath, who got to be in Girl Scouts. However, when it came time for summer camp all jealous thoughts disappeared. The reason? We had Camp Sweyolakan, and it was truly a magical place. At least it seemed that way when I was a young girl. The camp was just for Camp Fire Girls. No Scouts were allowed, no matter how many neat badges they had earned during the year.
I jokingly said to Rebekah a couple days ago that our time together has felt a bit like being at summer camp. No summer camp would be complete without some craft time, so when Rebekah asked if I might have some yarn in my stash for her to make some Bunny Nuggets for Lucy I said I thought I might possibly be able to find some. (Please note this would be the observational equivalent of the captain of the Titanic saying he thought they would just stop off the coast of Newfoundland for a while.) Rebekah chose some colours and set to work.
The trio of bunnies is now sitting on my dresser, waiting for Lucy's arrival next week.
Maggie Rabbit kit over a year ago, fully intending to have it done for Lucy for Christmas. That goal got downgraded to her birthday, which I am embarrassed to admit has now come and gone. The craziest thing about my rabbit is it isn't even something Lucy can play with. It's meant to be a decoration, not a stuffed animal a child can sleep or play with.
The process of making the rabbits (I decided making one wasn't going to be painful enough, so had ordered two kits) was excruciating. I don't care for hand sewing, which is how these rabbits are put together. In the spring I finally got some momentum and finished the blanket stitch around the body and the limbs. Then I did something no crafter should ever do. I stopped. Instead of stuffing the bits, sewing them together, and making the boots, I shoved it all into a bag and lied to myself. You know the one - "I'll work on it again in a few days." When I pulled it back out last week, a full three months later, this is what I had to work with.
I wish I could tell you the rest of the project went smoothly, but that would be an even bigger lie than me telling myself I was going to pull it out and work on it again right away. I got rid of almost all of my sewing stuff before I moved, and only had two embroidery needles left. As I sat on the porch stuffing and stitching I looked down at the wood floor planks and had the thought, "If I drop the needle it's going to fall through the cracks and be lost forever." Not more than three seconds later something happened (I'm still not sure what), and the needle flipped out of my hand and went directly through the very crack I had been looking at.
Then there were the limbs. I got the arms on with very little trouble, but the legs were a different story. They didn't want to stay in place while I stitched them, which made me want to say bad words. Many bad words. Then, after holding the first rabbit up to admire it, and seeing I had managed to sew one leg on the wrong way, I did say bad words. Many bad words.
After reading this you may be wondering why I chose a project I was ill-equipped to make, and that is ill-suited for the recipient. It's simple. The cute factor outweighs everything I just wrote about. I love these rabbits! One is for Lucy, and the other is going to stay on my fireplace mantle.
The most difficult thing to make turned out to also be my favourite: the boots.
So Lucy, I'm sorry your first birthday present is going to be late and, from the perspective of a one year old, completely useless. I wish I could promise you that this is going to be the only late and useless gift you get from your Nana. But that would be another lie.