Lederhosen braces

Since taking up leather tooling, my husband, Hank, has come up with more crazy unique ideas than I thought possible.  It all started quite innocently with belts and can coozies that were handed out by the thousands this past Christmas.  Simple keychains led to talk about cuffs, collars, corsets and wouldn't the guinea pig love some Viking-styled armor?  Maybe just a helmet and a saddle...?  I knew I had to redirect this creative energy to a more useful end (only, if for no other reason than, to spare the poor guinea pig), hence, the suggestion of traditional Lederhosen braces.  If Hank would supply the braces, I would supply the Hosen.

Leather tooling :: the possibilities!

Small, unassuming metal stamps have been taking over my house for the past two months.  And there seems to be a direct correlation to the number of hours that Mr. Schimstock has spent sitting at the dining room table.  Yes, Folks, you've guessed it.  Hank has a new hobby.

Swishing my way out West

When Hank and I first started planning our vacation out West, it was clear that we had very different approaches to the 3000-mile trip out to Yellowstone and back.  He immediately pulled up Google maps, started plotting cities, researched attractions and calculated mileage.  I casually thumbed through my sewing patterns.  Hank anxiously gave the 1950 Chevy a thorough run-through, hoping she'd hold up for just one more roadtrip.  He changed the oil, checked the brakes, checked the suspension, double-checked his emergency toolbox and, just because he's that cautious sort, signed up for AAA.  I thrilled at finding the perfect piece of summer-weight wool.  Priorities, you know. 

When I think of Summer vacation , I immediately picture billowing, cotton sundresses and snappy playsuits in novelty prints.  But when I combine that image with Summer traveling, I cringe at the thought of ironing said cotton dresses with teeny hotel irons and flimsy boards (should you be *lucky* enough to even have one).  Such was my dilemma.  The South Dakota Badlands in August were sure to be hot, but once again, I opted for wool.  Hank looked up from under the hood of the Chevy just long enough to raise his greasy eyebrow at that decision, but I sewed on.   Ultimately I decided on two staple pieces on which to build my wardrobe:  an A-line skirt and a pair of pants.