Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The Fairy Elf is Officially in Business!

All right, so while I have made my first sale, I don't actually have a "store" up and running yet.  I am still plugging away opening an Etsy shop, but there are so many things that have to happen first.  The big thing is settling on a name.  Thankfully, I've already decided on a staple to start with [crocheted vintage sun bonnets and sun hats for babies under a year] and a brand name [Lady Alainn] but the overall name is eluding me.  If worst comes to worst I'll settle on Heirlooms by Alainn unless y'all have any better ideas!

I also have a basic look and feel of what I want the store image to be.  It's just a matter of time until I relearn Adobe so I can create banners, tags, website images, and all that jazz.  Hopefully I'll be officially, officially up and running by next summer for a little bit of Farmer's Market action!

So why am I celebrating now if I still have a long way to go before it becomes completely legitimate?  As of today I have officially crocheted, packaged, and mailed my first order!  This means I am a professional now, right?  And that's reason enough to celebrate for me!  I took a few photos [forgive me, I'm terrible with lighting] and made a collage to commemorate the occasion.  A big thank you to Katie of Spero Naturals for being my first official client and Ariel of Wrap It Up With Ariel for being the inspiration that started it all!

"Vintage Rose" 17 1/2" circumference (9 MO)

While I'm still working on creating stock and finding a photographer, I am taking special orders until I get things settled down.  I have a variety of available thread and ribbon colours.  If you're interested in finding out more or possibly ordering one just shoot me an email at 

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Ask Jeeves

Finish That Thought #2-23 (Judge's Comments)
Prompt: Three strangers appeared on my [doorstep] and in their [hands] they brought death.
Special Challenge: Include at least THREE of the following literary characters: Edward Rochester, Jo March, Harry Potter, Anne Shirley, Sherlock Holmes, Katniss Everdeen, Dracula, Miss Havisham, Rhett Butler, Lucy Pevensie, Gandalf the Grey

Three strangers appeared on my balcony, and in their little blue box they brought death. Oh, not actual grim reaper Death, but a death to all of my delightful plans for that afternoon. I just folded my newspaper to set it aside when the most awful noise came from outside. Before I knew it, a police box materialized on the balcony of my apartment and out stepped a young woman, a ginger-haired man in tweeds, and what appeared to be a Charles Dickens look-alike. What a good prank this was turning out to be! Deciding to play along, I jumped to my feet in agitated excitement.

“I say!” I cried out as I approached the French door, “who are you? And how did you get...? Where did you...? What...?”

“Lucy Pevensie,” the young woman replied cheerily, stepping through the doorway and into my sitting room. She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wooster.” I shook it absently as her companions fell in behind her.

“Look here, you can’t just barge into a fellow’s house-”

“I am The Doctor,” interrupted the ginger-haired man with a wide, sly grin. He did not offer his hand but instead winked and tugged out the strangest little device I’d ever seen and pointed it about the room. I stared at him in bewilderment.

“Doctor Who?”

“No, no. Just The Doctor, mate.”

“Good God, you’re Australian!” I exclaimed.

“Haven’t I a right to be? It’s not like this is BBC.” The Doctor, whoever he was, then tucked his bizarre stick back inside his suit jacket and turned his gaze to me again. “We’re here to see Jeeves, is he around?”

“What, do you know Jeeves? What the devil do you want him for?”

“Oh, it’s the most horrid thing!” Lucy set down the photograph she’d been examining. “Pip has hired Sherlock Holmes to discover his benefactor!” My look of utter cluelessness must have been evident for she continued in equal passion, “There won’t be much left of the book if he finds out Miss Havisham isn’t his benefactor now and poor Mr. Dickens’ book will cease to exist! We desperately need Jeeves’ advice.”

I looked at the silent, bearded fellow then in absolute bafflement. This was quickly getting out of hand for a joke and quite possibly a result from a trip to the club. Had I gone already? I must have. I needed Jeeves’ tonic. In a daze I wandered out of the room in search of my valet.


A short time later all was explained, remedied, and I had my flat to myself again. Kicking my feet up, I exclaimed, “You are marvelous, Jeeves! How did you convince Holmes?”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir. It was relatively simple, I merely told Mr. Holmes who the benefactor was.”

“What, that’s all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He dropped the case?”

“Completely, sir. It no longer intrigued him.”

“Who is the actual benefactor, Jeeves?”

“Well, sir, I suggest you read the book.”

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Chasing Red

Finish That Thought #2-22 (Judge's Comments)
Prompt: As quickly as [she] appeared, the [woman] in the red dress vanished into the [woods.]
Special Challenge: Include at least FOUR different words for shades of red.  "Red" doesn't count.

Taken from
As quickly as she appeared, the woman in the red dress vanished into the cluttered abyss of cyberspace. The ruby dot blinked once, twice, then disappeared as static overtook the 42” screen.

“Dang it, she’s gone again!” Murphy cursed into his headset. Fingers flattened from many years of typing on keyboards gripped the scuffed edge of the roll top desk in annoyance. The woman in scarlet always did this, always got away just in the nick of time before he came onto the scene. Like clockwork.

“Where d’you think she’ll head next?” inquired his partner on the other end. “Morocco? Venezuela?” Her southern syllables dripped with a calming patience. However, Murphy had worked with this mysterious woman—known only by her code name CrimsonHater and honeysuckle voice—long enough to recognize the subtle difference between her indifferent tone and her I’m-about-to-blow-a-gasket tone. This was definitely more towards the latter.

“I’m not sure, I didn’t find any clues this time,” he admitted sheepishly. Pulling out his datapad, Murphy licked the pad of his forefinger and flipped through the top sheets to his scribbled notes from this case. “At some point she’s got to go to Portugal to meet up with her contact there, but that’s only after she gets her hands on the Damask Files. As far as my contact here knows, she hasn’t gotten them yet.”

“Should we consult W.A.L.D.O.?”

Murphy grimaced. He hated having to resort to W.A.L.D.O. [Wayfinding Agent for Locating Distributed Objects] for any reason. It made him feel like a cheat. Besides, he’d misplaced the flash drive containing the program the last time the maid decided to do a surprise spring cleaning of his office and digging up the search engine online just irked him to no end. No one had the time to find W.A.L.D.O., least of all him.

“Negative, Crimson. We can do this ourselves. There’s got to be a clue we’ve overlooked, a question we haven’t asked. How did your interrogation go?”

A long sigh sounded through the headphones.

“That bad, huh?” Murphy turned to the world map hanging on the wall to study the scattered cherry-topped pins symbolizing red-coat sightings. He pinched a green pin from the side of the board and pressed it into Munich. Their woman wasn’t in Germany after all. “There’s got to be some sort of pattern I’m just not seeing-”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, use W.A.L.D.O. already!”

“Fine...” Sighing in defeat, Murphy pulled up his web browser in another window. The hourglass cursor rotated again and again as he waited for his search query to bring up answers. Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?