Hexie happiness

Standing on the bridge, steering some admirals into harbour, and scratching her head over the complexities of indexing compound names (who am I to talk?), not to mention chaps who change rank and style far too often . . . she tenders her most sincere apologies to all who have emailed and commented and promises that when she gets this weighty tome off to the printers she will return the compliments most profusely.

But in the interim, why not make a charmingly capacious pencil case all ready for the new term (oh, how I do love that word, capacious. I yearn for capacious pockets and capacious portmanteaus [portmanteaux is also acceptable to the highest authorities, but apparently not to Blogger ...] ...).

Charmingly capacious

Your little dears will soon be departing for the halls of academe and you can assure yourself of a place in their hearts by providing them with a constant reminder of your presence in the form of a handmade pencil case.

Once again, my sewing guide and mentor Amy has come up with the perfect pattern for you to make your own pencil case - the one and only Hexiecase, capacious enough to hold all the pencils and pens that any child could possibly need.

And speaking of capaciousness, you may remember that I made one here which proved to be just the right dimensions to transport my sock knitting about. For the latest model I used fusible fleece, which gives a nice squashy effect, or for a more structured look, use standard interfacing like this.

Sadly, for me I no longer have little people setting off to school with shiny new pencil cases, so I have made my own Hexiecase just for me - it sits on my desk and in its capacious recesses I hide my very special pens for correcting admirals and their ilk (there is nothing so fine as these pens and people like to steal them so they must be hidden from husbands with pen-kidnapping tendencies).

Who knows what is occurring in those voluminous recesses?

And I am down to my very last pen for checking footnotes - its friends have vagrant tendencies and so I am afraid my little orange chum must be confined in the voluminous folds of the Hexiecase. Perhaps it will be impelled to breed in the darkness?

She sighs. The admirals are tugging at her sleeve (it is an Admiral of the Fleet this time, and they are the worst of all name changers), and she suddenly realizes that she has spent full half an hour browsing pretty pens on Amazon ...  (the ones shaped like vegetables are definitely not pretty) ... come Tuesday, she will be strung up from the yardarm, or set to holystoning the decks at least.

Adieu ... her voice trails on the breeze ... adieu ... (she departs taking her ellipses with her).