Stabbing things until they look like birds

Every half year or so I tell Orhan that I need a hobby. Usually this happens when I have been working long hours but not feeling like I'm accomplishing much; I feel both stressed and maybe a little bored.

Over the years he has suggested that I already have hobbies. Chicken training was one.

Me: But I failed! The plan was to teach them tricks, but instead they trained me to give them treats.

Him: Nobody said you had to be good at it for it to be a hobby.

So that was one, but then the chickens moved to the farm (except for one, who moved to the freezer.)

Another was to make collage postcards, something I had done for a while in graduate school.

Me: I just end up cutting up magazines and ads into smaller pieces, then recycling them six months later instead of immediately. 

Him: That could be a hobby.

So maybe that counts, even currently, since I still have a bunch of cut-out images and words, but I find it unsatisfying.

Other routine activities, like avoiding office politics, don't count as hobbies since they are work related, and only enjoyable in the sense that not needing to have dental work done is enjoyable.

Then last month Orhan brought me three smallish boxes. He told me, before showing them, that I didn't have to do anything with them, but if I wanted to...

I'm hooked.

I began with the chickens. Orhan suggested I start with something there's two of (a good idea, as you will see below), and I didn't want to screw up an owl. Also, as my colleague Meaghan pointed out, chickens are overdetermined (i.e. identifiable as chickens due to  a number of features, and therefore possible to screw up and still have a thing people know is meant to be a chicken).

A few dozen finger-stabbings and much happiness later later, here is chicken #1, aka Lumpy:

By the time I was done with Lumpy I had learned a few things about shaping the wool, and also about not stabbing myself. Somewhat fewer stabs, but at least as much happiness, went into the production of chicken #2, aka Lean:

Lean doesn't always stand up on its own because, while I did a much better job creating legs than I had for Lumpy, I didn't do a perfect job. I also didn't try to make Lean's legs the right color; the instructions say to wrap wisps of wool around the provided pipe cleaner, and, well, here's how that worked out on Lumpy (who also taught me that one pipe cleaner is not long enough):

So Lean got long pale legs.

The kit claimed to have enough wool for two chickens, but the provider is generous with the extra, so both Lumpy and Lean came from one chicken's worth of wool. Next up was the other color chicken, by which time I had mastered the art of legs and feet well enough to produce chicken #3, aka Lovely, who stands quite well:

I think they are getting more chickenish as I go, too.

After Lovely, I had enough left for yet another chicken or for an experiment, and opted for an experiment. Meet Lark:

Lark got spots because I had been looking ahead to the raven and the owls and realized I was going to need spot-making skills. 

Before I moved on to the next kit, though, I wanted to try one more experiment. Meet the Chicky Baby, aka Little:

I made this partly for the practice on feet, partly for the practice on the beak, and mostly just because it was so much fun.

Here's the family group:

Next I started the raven:

It doesn't show up very well -- not enough contrast -- but I think it will look better when it has eyes and legs. I also notice, looking at the picture, that I need to build up the tail more. To get more practice with spots, since the raven's eyes will be wool instead of beads, I made another head:

This also gave me even more practice with making a beak.

I still don't feel confident enough about eyes to make them on the raven just yet, so that bird's on hold until I get a bit more lower-stakes practice. I was missing the fun of stabbing things, but then I realized that rotten wool (that is, wool that breaks when  you tug on it a bit) is WOOL. I wondered, can I take some of that worthless wool I haven't able to throw out and successfully stab it into something else?

Indeed I can.

As you see here, I also realized I could cut apart the hat I never finished (because the yarn kept breaking) and use that. It takes a lot more stabbing to smooth out, and I may add a light layer of non-spun wool to the outside, but I'm finding it quite promising so far.

Stay tuned. There will be many more birds to come. This hobby is awesome.