Monday, December 8, 2014

Recycled gloves from old sweaters

I have a thing for recycling sweaters. As soon as the cold weather arrives, I am browsing through thrift stores (and hubby's closet) for cashmere and wooly sweaters. I've made a pair of cashmere gloves for my mother-in-law in the past HERE, but this time I wanted to make mittens for LoLo. Well, I wanted them to make them for themselves by themselves. Lola got a kids sewing machine for her last birthday and while she enjoys using it, she still needs much help. I thought mittens would be a great beginner's project!

Lola wanted bunny mittens and London opted for dinosaur kind. I was left with my old sweater with stripes and decided that the crazy pattern would only suit a monster.

After tracing our hands, we cut the mitten shapes out of the sweaters and sewed 4 pairs of gloves together, lining them with another color. I cut up various body parts to make the desired animals and here are the results:  

What do you think? 


Thursday, July 10, 2014

Day 2 and 3 Paris

It's raining! It's been raining for two days now and we've had enough of it, quite simply, honestly. This is not the Paris I planned for. It's much less glamorous or beautiful or romantic when you are running for cover, waddle in your wet shoes from store to store or bistro to bistro and pack/unpack your rain gear 10 times a day!

For our second day sightseeing, we were holding onto a hope that it may not rain and so planned around seeing the city. We started off with Notre Dame and were immediately stunned by the long line snaking around the streets to get in. I don't do lines as a principle! I'd rather "waste" the time wondering around the unknown streets than being squeezed into any building (church in this case) - which by all account must be stunning and beautiful, but doesn't the magic stop somewhere between the lady that doesn't use deodorant in front of you and the annoyingly loud speaker behind?

We walked across the Seine towards the Latin Quarters in search of a restaurant and found a small market. Bought a few souvenirs and admired the local produce - cheese, giant oysters, fruit and vegetables.

We've been warned about not so friendly Parisians, but all what we've experienced so far is quite the contrary. The old lady next table at the bistro poured us wine from their bottle (I may have looked in dear need of some liquid happiness, given all that rain combined with LoLo's demands for sweets, ice cream or toys or all of the above at the same time). The same day, another lone lady waved Lola over offering her a small toy that came with her ice cream sunday. People stood up to give up their seats, smiled at LoLo, winked at them, moved their seats so that we can be seated as a family together.
I must say people were kinder in transportation much more than in NYC and visibly wanting to do the kind deed and not feeling like they had to. It maybe LoLo's charm (the fact that London doesn't stop talking and smiling and Lola flirting - minus when they are whining - but we won't mention those cases here) and the French love of kids, that we get such a warm friendly feeling, but I;d like to think it's more general and just the way people are here.

We passed by the Pantheon stopping for ice cream and crepes. I tasted the boozy Grand Marnier crepe for the first time and didn't really like it. The Latin Quarter is as charming as I remembered it to be - small shops and restaurants and streets buzzing with locals and tourists.

I bought Bensimon sneakers finally - simple pull ons that my Parisian friend, Viera introduced me to many years ago, upon my first visit here.

LoLo found a playground at the end of the day - just the time when it was sunny for about an hour and spent time on a spring see-saw going so fast, I was getting dizzy just observing them (but kids love this stuff, don't they?). It's funny to observe French parents and compare them to those at home. I keep searching for their "superior" techniques as described at the "Raising bebe" book and don't really seem to find it. Ok, so it's been only a week or so that I've been doing my French parenting observation, but still .. (oh and it's not that I am not biased at all lol) ... My only conclusion is, that it's just like sweet home Brooklyn - there are parents who follow their child from swing to swing hovering over them and there parents that sit on the bench reading a book, while their child is pushing aside others on their way up on the slide ladder.

One is for sure, I once again could not keep my mouth shut and when one mom watched her son grabbing the long-awaited ball from London's hand (first on line),  I had to tell her it wasn't right and gave her the mean mom look accordingly.  She seemingly was oblivious at my upset look and could not be bothered. Uhmm yeaaahh ... I've never been good at playground politics.

When traveling with LoLo, I always like to buy a kids book with local stories. (Most major cities have them published in English.) It teaches them about the city and makes them excited for the sights that we plan to see. And pssst .. if you want the real lazy guide to any city for yourself - just buy one as a gift to a child and you can find out all the major tourist attractions without ever buying a proper guide that you may be lugging from home ;) and may just discover more than a guide book will ever tell you. It is also a wonderful keepsake and a memory and keeps coming back every time you read the book. LoLo remembers much of Barcelona also, thanks to the books we've bought!

Reading the Paris kids book the second after we bought it :) 

La Cite des Enfants 
Yet another cold, rainy day on Wednesday (57 F) made us look for things to do indoors and so we decided to visit the "children's museum" of Paris. It is on the outskirts of the city and so the travel there took us an hour and a half and we were very hopeful! The guide book for kids said that it's the "one museum not to be missed", so we were ready for major WOW factor - well, there was none of that! The museum is divided to two parts ages 3 to 7 and 5 to 12. I bought tickets to the part for smaller children - thinking LoLo were 5 (it's closer to their age first category), but many activities were geared for much smaller kids. Also, if you are a spoiled brat, like we are and happen to live in a big city (like NYC f.e.) surrounded by amazing museum, your children's museum is likely be just as great or better than this one. We're a bit bored by now with the Brooklyn Children's Museum and the place could use some extra TLC, but it's just as good in terms of fun as this giant facility with more interesting things than the one in Paris. And! You can spend as long as you want there! This museum lets you in for an hour and a half and then you have to leave. So, it's not a whole day program - thought with the track out there it may as well be.

Construction site at the Children's Museum 

If you have children 5 and you've already decided to go to this museum (I would not, but if you did .. ) .. buy tickets for the older category and not the younger. I haven't seen the older section, but would probably forget about the entire place if my child was 10+ years old and would rather take them to another museum and not here. Also, buy tickets online ahead of time!  

For 3 Euros per person we walked through the submarine - just outside of the museum. We walked through the entire giant, black iron submarine (not in water) passing by the sleeping quarters and the kitchen and the captain's place. It was an interesting and short visit, but again .. not worth a visit unless you are a serious submarine fan.

Captain needs a lift! :) 

Next entry: Pompidue, a walk through Paris and Jarden des Tuileries 

Bisou Bisou, Elvi and the Gang xox


Monday, July 7, 2014

Bonjour from Paris!

Bonjour Everyone! Haven't posted in ages I know .. :( But now we are in France, in Paris, the city of love and fashion and I am inspired to share the journey of our second year of home exchange with you all!

As you may know, last year we spent an amazing month in Barcelona and loved it and I am now a religious home exchanger! There are really only three ways I will ever travel again ...

a. home exchange (the obvious)
b. on points of any kind - airfare, hotel, coffee card (whatever it takes)
c. camping (I will get back to this one again, but if you read my post about our trip to St. John this January, you know why. Well, the St. John experience is now enhanced and reconfirmed by our amazing, no, AMAZING week at Huttopia in the Loire Valley, which I will review here later.)

This year, we found a nice French family with three boys, who live at 15 arr. (I am not going to spell this out) in Paris. All was agreed on Skype soon after our first contact. The general rule of the thumb is, that if you find some elements of your apartment in theirs on the photos, you will most likely be comfortable at your adopted place.

We exchanged keys at a hotel upon our arrival and here we are!

It's exciting to walk into somebody else's world and imagine and experience what it must be like to live here, to be a Parisian. To run across the street in the morning for a fresh baguette or a croissant, to sit at the corner bistro on one of those charming chairs by a tiny table watching the world go by or to type away on your computer by a desk with a clear view of the open glass doors of the ornate facade of the building across the street and its inhabitants. The young guy in shorts, who is constantly on the phone, the chubby lady in a dress who takes a cigarette break once an hour or the family that hopelessly tries to get their young child away from the open balcony door.

Argh Paris ...

A week and a few days in France and we are all fluent in "Merci", "Bonjour" and "Au revoire".
We walk self-assured, map-less, Lola skipping, London making the sidewalk pillars an obstacle course, camera hiding (mostly) in my large satchel (notice the choice of words here), I-phone ready for a quick photo ... Oh my! We could be easily mistaken for Parisians ... Well, not quite! We need a fashion upgrade! Badly! Ok, so we didn't come for the Dior fashion show that just happened today and J-Lo was there (don't ask me how I know all this and nothing about world news!) but we are far from locally looking.  Stretched out jeans and t-shirts (at least no sneakers) ... Is it just me, or the stereotype, or our general, collective lack of fashion esteem that makes us feel somehow less put together, less sophisticated (I mean that girl today with a black hat and style made me want to run back home, paint my nails, get a massage, splatter some Dior 5 all over my body and wear stilettos .. or at least my shiny self-made sequins Dolce fake pumps or something that would put us on the map as a non-tourist type ...  I was jealous)

Something stunk in our apartment ... After LoLo tested all the toys, took over a castle in a battle over a princess, built a car track looping four times in the air and managed to find a box of marbles that were now a hazard to life all across the three rooms, we opened the fridge.

Lola, opened the fridge and shining eyes and bushy tailed she whispered in my ear: "Mommy! There is pudding in there!" (Side note: we never buy pudding! .. This poor, pudding deprived child knew that the opportunity was here ... ). Then she closed the door, upon which an odor that would make a skunk seem a desirable perfume of choice took over the entire apartment.

"Was it you?"

We pointed at each other in disbelief at what our noses were experiencing.
"It must be from outside" .. I concluded, until the next time we opened the fridge and started a search of all shelfs, nooks and crannies of the fridge. Our 10 minutes search in t-shirts pulled over our noses (bank robber style) produced no rotten food of any kind or body pieces (as we started to suspect).

It was unbearable! We made cross wind throughout the apartment  and proceeded to open the fridge only with extra caution and solely in necessary, unavoidable situations ( f.e. when Lola wanted another pudding).

Until we found it! It sat on the middle shelf, wrapped in perfect crispy paper, in a perfect clean box with some fancy french wording ... It wasn't old, it wasn't bad, though it was definitely dead, it was the cheese the family left us as a gift. I caution you, we are HUGE cheese lovers, we've had smelly cheese, we've tasted a few that made us not breath for a few second taking a chance at fainting or even dying from the lack of oxygen, but never, and I mean NEVER have we smelled anything so atrocious, stomach turning, skunklicious in our lives!

Geoffrey placed it in a plastic bag, tied it carefully and took it to the garbage downstairs.
.. and it still smells!!!

.. Oh ooohh ...  but I wanted to tell you all about our first day of adventure in Paris ...

We went to the Citroen Park and took a balloon up in the sky. We learnt that advance tickets are sold out for the entire month for the Eiffel Tower and that lines can be long and quite unbearable, especially with children, who are not so much amused mostly by the height or the construction of the building, so we won't see the tower once again but at least we got to see the city from high up ...

Always a reason to come back!

xox LV


Sunday, March 2, 2014

And the Oscar goes to ...

We are having so much fun with these Oscars ... 

On the red carpet ... 


(Pssst don't tell LoLo, but it's a Barbie wrapped in foil)

And finally reporting live from the event:

xxx LV

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Valentine's Day flower bouquet

Even if you don't like Valentine's Day, these cupcake liner flowers can be a cute gift for Mother's Day or any birthday.
You may attempt to make an entire bouquet. Hershey's kisses work well for the center, but you may put them on a skewer stem and attach a mini peanut butter cup or a ferrero rocher chocolate.

London and Lola also tried making these and I am not claiming theirs came out this way, but we had fun making them and can not wait to give them out to their teachers and classmates! 

Happy Valentine's Day!
LoLove, Elvi

Today in winter wonderland! - Prospect Park

Every Tuesday is LoLo and mom day! Last week Tuesday we spent in Prospect Park. We love Prospect Park and don't go nearly as often as we should,
because all covered in snow it felt a like we just stepped into a winter wonderland.

The entrance to the park was like a magical alley leading to surprises ... 

A lone runner passed by us, while the sun amazingly lit the glistening white trees and ground ...

The picnic house and tables were also covered in a white coat ...

The snow was so deep - it was a workout to get to the sledding hill 

And this is the moment when you arrive .. backwards from the hill ...

"Yumm, this snow is delicious" .. as it kept falling from the tree branches

Isn't this beautiful?

Three hours later we were on our way back home ... Full of nature ...

We love you Prospect Park! :)


Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Drugs and I

In regards to drugs, I am a happy, ignorant child of Communism, I would say. I had no idea what they were while growing up. Nobody tried to sell them to me at school, none of my friends experienced it – or I was too nerdy or na├»ve to know?

Drugs were something you bought at the pharmacy and took for headache. When I was 19, I was invited to a New Years Eve party and a bunch of guys went out for a “smoke” … I don’t smoke! I can’t inhale and smoke makes my eyes itch, so who cared?! There was talk about marijuana and one guy mentioned, that he was growing it and asked his mom to water his “herbs” while away. His mom thought her son found a new hobby in horticulture and we all laughed hysterically, including myself, who didn’t want to be exposed for the lack of knowledge. I never took an offer for a fear of being completely ridiculed not being able to inhale.

In another case, years later, I was offered white powder while already living in the US. I looked at the baggie and thought it would look pretty on my baked cookies sieved onto cutout jelly hearts.

Later again, we took a trip to Jamaica. It was an unexpected vacation I won through a magazine competition and we stayed at an all-inclusive resort. I am not a resort person! During the first 30 minutes I tried every bar chair, table, hammock and pool and was ready to leave somewhere else in search of an adventure, when a guy in a little boat waved at me from the water. He was a bit far, but I was happy to take a swim and make contact with the first real dreadlock rastaman.
“Ya maan!” .. You need weed?
I realized he was conducting business ...
“Uhhhmm sure! But how do we do this?”
“Just put the money in a plastic bag!”
I was excited to finally try it and did just that. Placed bills in a zip-lock and proved my swimming skills with one arm were sufficiently great. We smoked it that night on our little balcony overlooking the crystal blue water. I felt it was part of the culture, like rum cake, Bob Marley and the bobsled team, though I had no idea when or how “high” would come …
… I guess I didn’t inhale …

Then came colonoscopy!
I had no idea!
I thought it was all awkward, painful, terrifying. But waking up from whatever drug, I found myself a part of a kaleidoscope swirling peacefully in shine, shimmer, color, glitter. My first question awake jokingly was: “What was that stuff? When can I come again?”  That was the closest I have ever gotten to high, I think, but I am still not 100% sure.

The one thing I know a lot about are needles! Not by a choice of a recreational drug, but by chemotherapy and IVF. None of them made me high or gave pleasurable experience. Heck, not even an altered state of mind that I could rely on when I thought there was death in my deck of cards that life dealt. Chemo made me sick with nausea, depressed and wanting me to spend days in bed watching TV and feeling like my life was slipping away.

I finally, painfully learnt the mastery of needles while undergoing IVF. I was telling myself “this time it’s to create a new life and not a battle”. I mustered up all my strength to take a needle, pinch my stomach and with a fast, but decisive moment shoot it all in there.

Every time I hear a celebrity passing, because of recreational needles I feel resentful, angry. I’ve seen too many needles! I’ve seen and known people living their life to the fullest, maybe not celebrities, but amazing people who would have done anything for the opportunity others had. Their needles contained drugs of no choice or recreation; it was to live longer. Their “high” was defined very much by being with family and friends at times, when they could still comprehend.

 I am so angry! How do you, addicts dare???

I have an addiction experience!
No needles, bottles instead!
Many bottles.
Violence, doors that were bang shut, promises not kept, knives that flew overhead.
Fearful days and nights from not knowing the state, in which he would enter through the front door. Sometimes he would just collapse, as he entered and fell asleep – this was the better. Other times, we would have to pack and run for our lives and ask for shelter from family, friends … until nobody would take us in for their own fear. We would then take a train and book into a hotel that was the cost of mom’s two weeks salary …

Behind every addict there is a family that suffers!

Numerous attempts made - doctors, medications that supposed to help, rehab that gives new hope every time, but more often than not fails; tears shed, discussions and family meetings had. Sometimes threats, fights and mostly the feeling of helplessness … 

An article that I recently read talks about people that faze out the addicts, that addicts don’t get help … (The phasing out part you know, that also happens to cancer patients.)

Behind every addict is a family, friends that tried … that are hurt, that mostly have done everything …  There are kids that have been sheltered from the truth, but are smart and know all too well …

I was that child, the cancer patient and I resent – the drugs, the addicts, the chance at life they had, but threw away!   


Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Humble lessons in paradise

London and Lola (a.k.a. LoLo) are travelers. Traveling is our religion and so they come with us wherever we go. During their 4.5 years they’ve flown 4 times to Europe, visited 4 Caribbean islands and managed to get a frequent flier card. My husband, Geoffrey travels for work and carefully manages his reward points, so that we can stay comfortably in most places of the world for free. (A perk that is nice to have, but hardly a substitution for family dinners missed or good night cuddles).

This year, we picked the Virgin Islands as our winter gateway. We’ve stayed on St. John before and re-tell our Cinnamon Bay adventure 12 years ago, again and again. You know, when … we could not figure out how to build our brand new tent and it got dark, when we were told there were wild donkeys roaming the campgrounds and one may just wander into our brand new tent, when we realized what it meant to have “too much privacy” getting a bare site in the middle of the dense forest, the time when all horror movies came alive every and each night … and the rest of course … the stunning beaches, the 50 shades of turquoise of the water, the amazing wild life, the hikes, cactus, live reggae and the horseback ride that almost killed Geoffrey (because I did not completely believe that he is so allergic to animals).

This time around, before we booked our bungalow at Cinnamon Bay, we thought of all the advantages and disadvantages of spending 4 nights at a campground. Though we’ve been planning to, we have not yet camped out with LoLo. Our vacations were spent in the comfort of hotel rooms with crispy, white bed sheets or family homes that provided as much comfort as our own apartment in Brooklyn. We would stay in a bungalow with simple beds, a closet (I was hoping for) and no bathroom facilities. The lack of bathroom seemed to be the biggest of our concerns, so I ordered a portable potty with 5 stars review from amazon and decided that the 25 USD spent was part of our private insurance policy (“just in case we need it”). We were wondering how LoLo would react to this new, unusual environment. At the end of the day, they are children of privilege – just as all their peers at home. They have the entire world in their city, get exposed to a variety of experiences one would only find in New York, they travel, they suffer no shortage of any kind (if time spent with dad doesn’t count). We were excited to show them something different.

Weeks before the trip, we talked about the beautiful beaches, the palm trees, the islands and what we would do without mentioning even a word about our “hotel”.  Not because we didn’t want to, but because it was not important (I thought). After a short flight, a taxi ride and a boat ride we loaded our belongings into a blue rental jeep and were driving the winding roads of St. John.

The Tree Lizards restaurant stood without change, just as 12 years ago. A lady with a wide smile checked us in, we loaded our wheel barrow and were on our way to bungalow 8D. Everyone we passed by greeted us with a big smile and a “hello”. We felt welcomed. A single key on a ring and a green plastic triangle opened the lock on the door, LoLo ran ahead and did the hotel initiation ceremony of jumping on the beds, while we figured out the room set up. 4 beds on visibly rusty, old spring boxes, one table, four plastic chairs, no closet, but few weathered shelves with basic kitchen utensils and a few plates, a mini fridge and two fans at the corner of the room. Two sides of the bungalow were walls, the other two were mesh screens with curtain panels. The porch had a picnic table and a small gas cooker. As soon as I put down our luggage I went to check the mattresses for bed bugs, but before I could Geoffrey frowned at me: “Elvi, don’t!” …
… I did not …

“Can we please, go swimming” sounded the unanimous plea of both, London and Lola from below the tall palm trees full of coconuts. We ran to the beach visible from our bungalow. LoLo jumped the waves, screamed from happiness, threw their shoes to shore and ran back and forth chasing the blue water. I wish I had my camera ready … “This is why we came here”, I thought ... the pure joy of them being by the ocean and of us, parents witnessing all of it was worth a trip … LoLo wanted to shed their clothes on an instinct and run ... I often wonder why happiness in kids shines through by running … When kids run, they are happy … always!

We went back to the bungalow, changed into our bathing suits and enjoyed the rest of the day by the beautiful water, sand and palm trees. Finally, we discovered the bathroom facilities – basic, clean, with cold water showers! “I work too hard for this” I remembered Geoffrey’s words when we camped here for the first time. “Ok, this will definitely be an adventure” I mumbled to myself and turned to the kids with smile “Yay for cold showers!” London and Lola felt the water and giggled to my surprise (why are they not whining? I want to!).

There were three adorable kids checking us out all this time – an 8 years old girl, Anna, her 7 years old brother Harry and the 5 years old Holly all came to introduce themselves and offer their water and beach toys to share. I would see them the following days playing by the water, collecting twigs and leaves and going proudly with their 5 dollar bills to and from the camp store to purchase ice cream of their choice, like big kids. Melanie, their mom is a single mother and brought them on vacation. I thought about me taking London and Lola to school and how long that took and had immediate admiration of Melanie, who packed up three kids and herself in one!!!! suitcase. When I asked them if I could take a photo, Anna said she would ask her mom if it was ok; when Lola fell on the rocks, because she followed Anna, she came to apologize, though it was not her fault. These kids were the best behaved, most responsible, independent kids I’ve met. Melanie told me, that she believes in giving experiences to her kids and not material things, I agreed and liked her immediately. We matched in our philosophies, but I still need to learn! 1 suitcase! .. I kept thinking …

At night, when all four of us crawled into two single beds pushed together, I realized that it wasn’t only the four of us that shared the bungalow, but also a variety of four and multi-legged creatures that crawled under and above the bed. This time, a cockroach walked lazily across the room while I was tucking myself into the single white sheet, getting ready for story time. I wanted to scream and run. I glanced over to Geoffrey, who was comfortably hugging the two munchkins and I decided to keep this news top secret to myself fearing, that he will pack us all up and we’ll head to the nearest resort the next day. That night, as all the following nights  of our stay, we fell asleep with the sun setting, waves crushing, the sound of our fans spinning the warm Caribbean air, night birds and frogs chirping and stories from Geoffrey’s and my childhood. And every night it seemed magical. Did I say there was no cell phone or internet service? It brought us, as a family closer than ever before. To my surprise, still nobody complained. After a while I realized, that Geoffrey was fully aware of the creatures that shared our living space – what’s more, one apparently even crossed his face one morning, but somehow it wasn’t a big deal. I wasn’t even sure if LoLo noticed the change in their living conditions – they were just happy and content (cold showers, bed mites nicknamed ants, saltines for breakfast, toilet away .. etc.) The only thing London said on the first night was: “Mommy, this is not like home!” (The understatement of the year, we giggled.).

Melanie, the single mom with three kids and one suitcase, who as we’ve learnt is an attorney in “real” life recommended, that we visit another beach that’s part of a resort.  This beach is also part of the national park, so anyone can have access. We drove through the manicured lawn, walking across the hotel property to yet another stunning beach. We spent the day enjoying the water once again. Only one thing stood out – the guests at the resort didn’t smile and didn’t greet each other, just like every single person at the campground. They walked past each – other as strangers, who happen to be at the same place.

Thinking of Melanie, who could most certainly afford taking her kids to any hotel, seeing the strangers at the resort, going through our amazing experiences as a family and yes, that 1 suitcase, the well-known lines of Tolkien’s poem kept coming back to my mind again and again   

 All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost ….


Sunday, January 19, 2014

Easy crocheted slippers

Hiiii Everyone! Hope you are all having a wonderful year so far! We had a wonderful Christmas and a great New Years Eve and I was ready and full of energy for January, but then everything got spoiled by the polar vortex. It got so cold that uncollected dog poop froze on the sidewalk and you could play street soccer with it, if you wanted to. So, we layered up and wore ski gear as regular clothing and swished through the streets of Brooklyn in strange fashion.

If you know anything about us, Eastern Europeans - you know how much we love slippers (especially in the winter)! We live in them, give them to visitors and buy them as Christmas gifts on a yearly basis. Despite my concerted efforts to instill the slipper love into LoLo - they do not like them! I've bought countless pairs and there is always a problem with each and every one. One is too stiff, another one is not comfortable, another one is too girlie or boyish. On top of it, the comfortable once (I like - not LoLo) are expensive! At the end, I decided to crochet them a pair. If you know as little as making a chain and a single crochet you can make these slippers in an hour! This is how cute yours can turn out:

What you'll need: 
Thick yarn
Large crochet needle
Thin yarn (the same color as the thick one for sewing)
Sewing needle
Anything else you may want to decorate the slippers with

First, make as many chains as long as the length of the foot + add about two chains so that the slippers are comfortable. Start a row of single crochet. When you've finished, make a chain and turn your work. Start another row of single crochet leaving out the first chain and inserting your hook to the second chain. Carry on crocheting until you've made a square. To know if've reached a square shape, simply fold your work half into a triangle - photo below. Once it's a regular square, take your needle and thin thread and gather one side of the slipper. Pull tight and carry on sewing to form the top of the slipper. Sew as far as you want the opening of the slipper. Try it on to guess accurately. When the toe part is done, take the other side of the folded-in-half slipper and sew at the heel.
That's it!!! It's this simple!

You may add many cute features to the slippers! Add a crocheted heart for Valentine's Day, a pom-pom, a ribbon bow, a felt face or simply crochet ears and embroider a cute face.  

Stay warm LoLovies!
xox Elvi