Okay so it’s official: I’m going to be an aunt (again). This time, though, unlike my lovely instant nieces Tego and HG I get to meet this niece or nephew at birth! Krystopf and Atlas, the expectant parents, are coming to visit at the end of May. It’s my big brother’s first time in Newfoundland, though Atlas was here back around the time of Doodle’s Newfoundland Express. And neither Atlas nor I will let Krystopf forget the fact that SHE bravely came to visit us (by herself!) when she was a just brand new girlfriend, and HE (my own eldest brother) can’t organize himself enough to book a flight. But for reals now they are coming and I couldn’t be more excited! It’s a very brief trip but we’ll be sure to cram it with all sorts of fun stuff.
While I fully plan to have their wedding present (from last July) finished before they get here, I thought I would also get cracking on some baby-related things they might find useful in the near future (the baby is due in October). Now we know that if you put me in front of a sewing machine I am likely to break it. Like for real. But this one I think I can handle, because it involves sewing precisely one line. Even I can do that. I hope. Anyway, this post also kicks off my new Kidlet category here at Ali Does It. Who says you can’t do it yourself when there’s children involved?
What we’re going to make today is a nursing shawl, and it’s so simple it’s almost stupid. But the great thing about this shawl (I think) is that it’s an easy (and fashionable) alternative to nursing bibs and trying to gather blankets around your shoulders and whatever. And it covers your back, too, like a stylish poncho. And it’s small enough you can just jam it anywhere in your bag. And it doesn’t wrinkle.
Start off with some fabric, a nice jersey knit. I found two that I liked, this pink cotton and then a silky gray polyester blend. They were $2.99 a metre, which struck me as a good deal.
After washing and drying the fabric (to remove sizing and get any shrinkage out of the way), fold the fabric right-side-in along its width (which should be about 60 inches (or about a metre and a half). This will leave you with something about 30 inches wide.
Because fabric stores cut this stuff very quickly, the edges are not exact. I lined mine up as best I could and then used some sharp sewing scissors to cut along the outer edge to make it more square.
Next, use a measuring tape to measure 25″ from the outer edge and pin several times to mark your place. This will run perpendicular to the folded edge.
Cut along your markings so you are left with a rectangle that is about 25″ x 30″ (or 25″ x 60″ if you unfolded it).
Now you’ve got one folded edge and three open edges, right? From one corner of your folded edge, measure 13″ along an open edge and pin to mark it. This will be the head hole for your shawl. Pin along the rest of the fabric to hold it in place.
Now all you have to do is sew along that line, from the edge of the head-hole to the end of the fabric. It’s only 17″ of sewing. Of course, my sewing machine and I don’t get along. And so rather than throw it across the room I just did these by hand with a needle and matching thread and it took no time at all.
Then you just flip them right side out and they’re done. Jersey knit doesn’t fray so you don’t have to worry about hemming the other sides (though you can if you want to, or embellish them with ribbons or whatever you would like).
It’s a nice comfortable, breezy fit!
Thanks to Fussellette and Teddy Two for being my models!


















































































































After some successes with Peter Reinhart’s 
Mix ‘em up, for about a minute. If your spoon gets too doughy, dip it in warm water.

Now move onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead the dough for another minute, pushing and folding it together.











Roll it up.
Seal the seam by pinching it. Then rock the dough back and forth until you have your desired loaf size.
My bâtards still look demented.
I wanted to do more with my loaves, so after leaving the bâtards for five minutes to sit, I took two of them to make épis (wheat stalks).
Make a crease along the middle.
Fold the front of the dough towards the centre. Use a wet finger to kind of glue it down.
Fold the back of the dough over as well and seal by pinching.
Rock the dough back and forth until you have created the desired length. Use more pressure towards the ends so that they are tapered. These baguettes are the first stage of the épis. Place your dough in proofing cloths sprayed with oil and dusted with flour, or on parchment paper dusted with semolina or cornmeal.
Proofing
To make the épis, take your long baguettes and a pair of scissors. About 2 1/2 inches from one end, cut almost all the way through the dough (like 95%) at a 45° angle. Pull the cut section of dough to one side. Repeat the cut a further 2 1/2 inches in, and pull that cut dough to the opposite side. Repeat down the length of the loaf.

My first one turned out kind of funny, but I got the hang of it by the second one.
Transfer the dough to the oven, and pour one cup of water into the steam pan before reducing the heat to 450°F.
The bâtards came out demented, as expected, but the épis both looked fantastic.
We took ours on the road for a Victoria Day luncheon with KK and IP. Very popular.

I went to high school with a lovely girl named Paola. While we generally pronounced it the boring North American way (“Pollah”), we would occasionally say it correctly (“Powla”) or even go crazy and hyper-phoeneticize it (“Payola”).
In grades nine and ten she and I used to colour pretty much everything we owned. We used a lot of Crayola products, especially the stamp-y markers. She had way more artistic skill in her little finger than I could ever hope to have.
Lay a sheet of kraft paper on your ironing board. This is the crucial step or you end up with melted wax all over your ironing board.










