Myself in Stitches

One morning, in the course of my Groundhog Day-like routine of feeding, changing, and entertaining the Droplet, I received a Stitch London newsletter. That bastion of devious yarny goodness always manages to lift my spirits, even though I've not been able to attend many events since the offspring's arrival.

Apart from Gertrude's snarky advice and the meeting announcements was a call for participation. A challenge, an opportunity, particularly for geeky narcissists such as me.

Stitch a small version of myself? Send it to Stitch London? Have my mini doppelganger displayed in the Science Museum in London? I am all over that.

So all over that I was that, after my reading was interrupted by baby demands, I promptly forgot all about it.

Thank goodness for Twitter. Without the constant prodding of certain tweeples, the stitched ponddrop would never have seen the light of day, let alone the inside of the Science Museum.

After several disastrous attempts at magic loop, I switched to dpns and managed to knit myself a body. After that, the project took on a life of its own...

...and this blog.

Hi, I'm Mini-Ponddrop. Please excuse my naked state above. I clearly and slowly (using small words) explained to my larger self that this was completely unacceptable. Whilst she is a competent knitter of large garments and articles, she had no idea how to go about clothing such a minute and fine figure.

Luckily she consulted me. In my infinite wisdom, I suggested a simple silk evening frock. After all, I wanted to look my best for an evening at the Science Museum. There might be some handsome mini people about. My giantess agreed, and set about fashioning a frock using thread, needle, and somewhat questionable sewing skills.

The finished product was almost acceptable. However, given the unpredictability of London weather, I argued that a coat would be necessary for the journey. She agreed, but her coat knowledge was limited to the creation of Sylvi, her pride and joy. Why could she not make a small one for me?

Still, I felt something was missing. What could it be? Why, a mini version of the droplet, of course. How could we forget the force of nature that turned our lives upside down?

The droplet agreed, and picked a bright red shade for her knitted blanket. No pink, thank you very much.

Makeup in place, it was time to make my way to meet some like-minded mini others.

Emerging from the piles of envelopes, we decided that a pre-party was in order.

(photo courtesy of Deadly Knitshade)

We've sufficiently recovered from absorbing all that alcohol (being made of wool is handy) and are on our way to the Science Museum for one night of glory. Join me tomorrow night!