A blog by Jen Schuetz
Discouraging perfectionism. It starts with the best of intentions. We load up our adventure mobile, in pursuit of respite from city life. Along with clothes, toiletries, and necessary snacks, I pack a large tote — my “activity bag” — stuffed full of craft projects, certain that without my daily grind of household duties, I’ll finally have the focus to be creative. Not unlike what a parent would…
It’s all in the details. Being an avid knitter, I often seek out local yarn and craft stores when on vacation or during road trips. You’d think I’d come home with scores of new yarn, except that I don’t. I won’t sugarcoat it — high-quality fiber is expensive. Also, I’m trying to be diligent about shopping from my already overflowing stash. This discipline is honestly working and is also partly why…
A reborn meditation? Several years ago I consulted with a functional practitioner to manage a couple of nagging health concerns. His biggest takeaway for me, and apparently most of his patients, was stress. Plain and simple. Though not plain and simple. How do you truly address a silent killer? His suggestion was meditation. I had hemmed and hawed about starting a meditation practice for years. Of…
But there is a problem. I woke up yesterday morning, thinking back fondly on those moments when Barbara would perch on my chest in her hen pose. With sleepy eyelids and her “hands” folded politely in front of her, I’d feel her every breath as I gently stroked the crevice above her nose and in between her eyes. In my experience, animals find this area soothing just as much as us humans do. “I think…
Buy 3, get the 4th free. To celebrate curiosity, imagination, craft, and artistry and using their respective forces for good, not evil, I’m offering a buy 3, get the 4th free on my patterns by using code B3GOJS . The code must be used at checkout and cannot be applied retroactively, and you must put 4 patterns in your cart to receive the discount. And the best part is this coupon has no expiration…
The little-known affliction: Bartholin’s cysts. If you are at all squeamish or triggered by bodily functions or medical procedures, this post may not be your jam. It is also a lengthy read. I’ve been in reflection mode on this particular topic. I even alluded to it in a previous post , which was over a year ago (!) now. A part of me is superstitious, thinking if I talk openly about it beyond…
The castoff. At the end of February, I submitted my first pattern for consideration into a popular and reputable publication among the crafting community, Laine magazine. Laine Publishing is based in Finland, and besides the self-titled magazine, it also produces beautifully photographed and well-written pattern books. The featured garments are always trendy while simultaneously staying evergreen.…
Captured in print. About one week after the launch of my new site and pattern-making endeavor, a writer reached out, requesting a photo of my shawl, Suddenly Rose . Based in Austin, Texas, Vickie Howell writes the column “Snapshot from the States” for Knitting , a UK magazine. In Issue 267, she focused on a capsule wardrobe( [1] ) and wanted to highlight my shawl. I’ll be honest, at first glance I…
Documenting the days. I started a new year-long embroidery project, which involves stitching a specific color to designate the high and low temperature every day. I lovingly refer to it as my Temperature Disco Ball. Because San Francisco doesn’t have much variance in temperature throughout the year, particularly during 24 hours, I readjusted the temperature ranges prescribed for each color. Each…
Small act of rebellion. Somehow, San Francisco slipped past the hostiles’ periphery. The rabid forces were summoned last fall, but then subsequently called off. I don’t know what deals were made nor the reasoning for our city being mostly spared — I have theories, though. Regardless, I am grateful. That gratitude, however, comes with a helping of guilt while other areas suffer and battle. In the…
Keep on keeping on. Last year was, in a word, tumultuous, both from a personal standpoint as well as the general state of the world. From reading others’ 2025 recaps, though, I was in good company. Thankfully, despite a few lows, I enjoyed some truly solid highlights. The travel: Naz and I were mostly homebound from October 2024 to late May 2025, save for my birthday trip to Hawai’i last January.…
Here’s to turning 49. A year ago I returned to writing on an occasional basis, thanks to a retooled website and the resurgence of the indie web and RSS. A few months later, I decided to draft a second knitting pattern as a continued exercise into knitwear design. Before I knew it, two additional patterns materialized and the idea of selling them came to fruition. I wrote a brief origin story about…
The one about Flat Barb. The older I get and the weirder life becomes, I start to see myself empathizing with supporters of simulation theory. I won’t begin to pretend I understand the purported science behind the hypothesis, but experiencing dreams and déjà vu seem to make such conjecture plausible. Glitches in the system or processing errors, if you will. I am quite the prolific dreamer and have…
The expanding handmade wardrobe. Naz has been the lucky recipient of six hand-knit hats, which honestly sounds like a puny number when I think about it. I’ve knit far more over the years, but inevitably many were handed off to Goodwill or ripped out to reclaim the yarn for another project. Early in my knitting career, I took on the daunting task of making him a sweater. The fit was never quite…
Never too old. Though more than 18 months old, I found these words tucked away in a note from April 2024. They accompanied an Instagram post on my first-ever trail race and second running event ever. I had intentions of racing again, even registering and training for the Big Alta ’s 28K earlier this year, but as life is wont to do, curveballs were thrown and concessions were made. There’s always…
Knowing when to say when. In this latest embroidery project, I came to a point where I hesitated about filling in the entire hoop. Perhaps it stems from my days as a kid coloring within the lines, but I tend to work a piece until I cannot squeeze in even the tiniest of seed stitches. Whether it was decision paralysis or general fatigue, a feeling I inevitably experience with all my beloved crafty…
My obsession with old(er) TV shows. Netflix knew what it was doing. The true-crime syndicate, the armchair detectives, the “truth is stranger than fiction” addicts — any or all of these led to the robust library of docuseries on serial killers, unsolved mysteries, and notorious criminals. I was an avid fan. Until I wasn’t. At some point over the last few years, my mental and emotional tolerance of…
Life after menopause. My suspicions started late last year. Rather, it was a cautious hopefulness. Signs-slash-symptoms presented themselves for the past several years; some ambiguous, some textbook scenarios. A stage of my life was approaching its conclusion. Never having had children, the concept of exiting the reproductive phase earlier than age 50 entered my purview after stumbling upon some…
A reflection on our loved ones. I’ve seen him around the neighborhood for many years now: lumbering alongside his owner down the block, gently sauntering up to a tree for some quick sniffs, or even strolling the aisles of Trader Joe’s (in spite of San Francisco’s no-pet policy ). Bruno, the 121-pound black Great Dane, appeared slower than normal, with his hip bones protruding more than they…
But you still drive me bonkers. Maybe it was the runner’s high or the habitual flow of CBD in my veins (because, life ), but during a recent run along the Bayshore Trail here in San Francisco, I acknowledged an affection for this city that has yet to dim, despite some (sometimes literal) bumps in the road over the past 16+ years. Our immediate location aside — a major nearby street is a source for…
The one with batwings. You ever wonder how many yards of yarn go into a hand-knit sweater? Maybe you don’t, but I’m always amazed by the grand total when I finalize my project notes on any finished object. (Of course I keep accurate track of every project on my needles.) Meet Vesper . A fun, versatile batwing silhouette that gobbled up over 1,400 yards of The Plucky Knitter yarn. That’s 14…
Hearts Intertwined. It may not seem like it, but I’ve lost a bit of my knitting momentum. Well, the actual act of knitting, that is. I don’t generally quantify my accomplishments, but I must acknowledge that my completed pile is sparse. Four knit projects only, which is a slow production year. At one point in my knitting career, I cranked out a sweater a month. However, I have diverted my…
Gone way too soon. I remember the morning Anthony Bourdain’s passing was announced. I immediately assumed the internet was bonkers, espousing untruths that it is wont to do. After reading confirmations from news outlets, the hurt set in. And honestly, the grief remains. I never met the man, but saw him speak two or three times. His presence is sorely missed to this day. A week ago when Naz and I…
A FO of another sort. One, I had hoped to post a little more frequently about my finished objects. Two, I intended these entries to be about my crafty–fiber pursuits. Three, well, it’s my tiny slice of the universe, so I’ll do as I please. Once upon a time, I had a recipe blog on Medium entitled, “The Rogue Baker.” (I’d link to it, but I went diabolical one day and purged it in its entirety. It…
Brain vs. heart. In the nearly 21 years Naz and I have been together [1] , only seven months of those have we not been the doting parents to the best animals ever. And of those seven months, half of them are progressing in real time — it’s already been fourteen weeks since Barbara departed and found her way to the Rainbow Bridge, where I fondly envision a motley crew of past four-legged friends.…
This one’s made with Chardonnay. In my favorite aisle at my favorite grocery store, a diminutive woman stationed herself in front of an overwhelming selection of organic, fair-trade chocolate bars. She held two in her hand; each were the same brand, just different flavors. “Excuse me, can you help me? Can you see the other flavors of this chocolate?” I noted the two she already had in her hand,…
Vines on a Trellis. Knitting has been my go-to destressing activity for well over a decade, but somehow the two projects I have on my needles are suffering from a bit of neglect. One would think that being laid up for a few weeks due to an outpatient surgery then grieving over our precious furry companion would be two ideal situations to employ the meditative knit–purl mantra. Yet days and nights…
The not-so surprising effects of grief. After Barbara’s passing, being shaken from the melancholy dream state and assimilating back into real life proved difficult, both for familiar and unforeseen reasons. The noticeable absence of rooted routines and caregiving was obvious. The lingering sadness and wistfulness were predictable. The physical manifestation of mourning, however, was somewhat…
Our tiny but mighty baby girl. A month ago, we started hand-feeding her. Three or four months ago, we stopped taking her outside to potty, opting to clean up our bathroom tile instead. Six months ago, her afternoon walks ceased. One year ago, I purchased tiny reusable diapers that went unused because she wasn’t having it. I wish I knew when her tail stopped wagging. Her cadence slowed, her…
The simplest of stitches. After two-plus months of stitching and countless intersecting straight stitches, I completed my latest embroidery piece. Though it is difficult to tell, no thread color was used more than once — when in doubt about artistic direction, my m.o. is to keep one variable simple and play with another. In this case, thousands of straight stitches meshed with simple…
No fan of bass. About a year ago, a nightclub reopened its doors after a four-year hiatus due to the pandemic. The club secured a new location, and those doors essentially reopened in our backyard. The rumors started circulating months before the opening, so Naz and I braced ourselves. The chosen location had never been friendly to its neighbors, noise-wise. From high-end dining establishment to…
This sweater gives me wiiings. At the moment, I only have one knitting project on my needles — yet another pullover. Despite a closet full of hand-knit sweaters, I can't seem to stop collecting (erm, hoarding ) patterns, pairing a design with yarn from my stash, and casting on. Knitting sweaters seemed so daunting when I first started. Reading a pattern is literally adapting to a new language and…
Embracing and overcoming limitations. My outpatient procedure was just under two weeks ago, so my normal fitness routine remains off the table. But not one to sit idle too long, I sought out the cardio machines at my indoor rock climbing gym, which is typically my second home. I was happy to see a newer machine that could accommodate my need for upper body movement — a cross-country ski trainer.…
I don’t remember being poked nine times. Except that I do remember being poked nine times. Sorta. I am mentally preparing for a longer post regarding the gynecological procedure I had done last week — I feel compelled to share my story because I know a small minority of women out there (specifically 2%) know the trauma and stress related to this particular condition. Even men would benefit…
You never know what you’re gonna get. In an attempt to keep active while our country is in free fall, to stave off general nerves and restlessness, and to squeeze in my last few runs before an outpatient procedure that will leave me in a month-long recovery period, I pounded the pavement during some “unsettled” weather patterns — a term I apply often after hearing a Bay Area meteorologist use it…
Granny squares, thanks to Grandma. The Instagram reel sucked me in. A cute little video on how to make modern crocheted granny squares with yarn remnants. I switched over to the creator’s YouTube channel to investigate further, and I was hooked. (Pun most definitely intended.) I initially learned how to crochet way back when I was around nine years old. My maternal grandmother lived about a…
An obsession with mosaic knitting. As a counterpart to my WIP Wednesdays series, here’s my first “FO Fridays” post. In crafty jargon, FO means “finished object.” As much time as I spend making, however, I don’t anticipate a frequent stream of these posts. At my speediest, I averaged a sweater a month. These days, my process has become more meditative, and I have more than one project in the works.…
Just Dance. Running is better with music. Honestly, I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts when pounding the pavement during a solo workout, so melodic distractions are welcome. My preferred playlist is about seven hours of exclusively electronic dance music, so my motivation tends to stay high. Not every song boasts those driving beats; in fact, the more mellow EDM tunes often match my stride…
The process versus the product. Self-expression, a cure to boredom, curiosity, cognitive decline prevention, stress relief, life enrichment, cultural understanding, empathy, connection to community. Those reasons make art and creative endeavors the impermeable armor we need to combat today’s chaotic landscape of injustice, ignorance, and cruelty. The world feels heavy, so our respective labors of…
Wading knee-deep in spam. The onslaught of unsolicited requests for political donations. The spam phone numbers that nearly spoof my own, off by only the last few digits. The voicemail messages spoken entirely in Mandarin. The incessant robocall from our health insurance company, urging us to get a flu shot or adopt some new healthy habit. The catalog of blocked numbers I have tucked away in my…
A year-long embroidery journal. Before 2025 gets too far along, I wanted to revisit a project that, by design, lasted all year. I occasionally posted about this undertaking on Mastodon and Instagram , but I hadn't fully recounted any details. On New Year’s Eve 2023, Naz and I wandered around Japantown after dining at a solid conveyor-belt sushi restaurant. (This place will win no awards, and as we…
Tales of resourcefulness and frugality. The faded blue line and a kink in the accordion neck of bendy straws. The tattered edges on a Ziploc bag. Extra crumpled aluminum foil. This was the contents of a grade school classmate’s daily lunch box, and my 12- or 13-year-old self didn’t understand the reason. In retrospect, perhaps my classmate’s mom was already keyed into the expense — both in terms…
The rabbit hole of preventative health. After turning 48 in January, I started the year off with an ob-gyn visit, vaccine update, and mammogram. Since these visits, though, my proactive nature unwittingly unleashed undue stress, leaving me to wonder if ignorance is bliss when it comes to health. Is looking under the hood always the best thing for your mental state? The ob-gyn visit yielded normal…
Grace with an elderly dog. I blame Apple Music‘s Autoplay function. Wait, I blame the bouldering gym first. I Shazam‘d a song playing overhead – arguably one of the better products of the internet, an app that can recognize most songs within a few seconds – and later added that musician to my library, just to give her a proper listen. The artist was Abby Sage, and the particular EP I added is The…
Why I'm here. I tried a handwritten five-year journal and two year-long journals. I bought nice hardcover notebooks and a fancy new pen even, but I came to associate this type of journaling as a chore. I merely rehashed details of the mundanity of my day, which has its merit to some degree. But I use my calendar app for noting travel, dinners out, friends in town, or my workout schedule; I employ…