Pocket Jabba

I made this for my friend Karen, and then forgot to take any photos. Fortunately, she posted it on her own blog (adventuresofcancergirl.blogspot.com).

Twisted
friends

WCK and I hosted our playgroup last week, and everyone once again got a
good laugh at our Mr. Potato Head in the Darth Vader costume. (His official name
is Darth Tater, by the way). I explained that this was a gift from my sister
before WCK was born, and somebody pointed out that I must have some really
twisted friends and family: Every time the playgroup comes over, they find
something bizarre around here that was a gift from someone else.

This is true. I do have twisted friends. Today I opened the mailbox to find
that my friend DeAnna in Minneapolis had hand-crocheted me a little tiny Jabba
the Hutt. I must add that this was a gift for ME, not for WCK. I'm not a Star
Wars fanatic the way Jay is, but I do enjoy Jabba. I wish I could spend my life
lying around, laughing at people, and eating frogs. You don't find a tiny Jabba
in your mailbox every day, so it was a very special afternoon. DeAnna's note
pointed out that his nostrils somewhat resemble Clark Gable's moustache. You'll
have to judge for yourself:

He's so tiny that it was hard to get a decent photo of him, so I posed him
in a variety of locales. Here he is shopping for groceries:

Lounging at the Emerald City:

Hangin' with his good friend Thomas:

"Aloha," says Jabba. "I'm off to Hawaii!"

Finally, attacked by a T-Rex. Fight back, Jabba! Fight back!




You know how I'm always complaining that I never have the time to, say, clean out
our closets or read as many books as I want to, or prepare a fancy meal, or
write the Great American Novel? This is why.