https://www.etsy.com/shop/HiggledyPiggledyWood?ref=simple-shop-header-name&listing_id=846694575

Higgledy Piggledy Wood, Madison, WI (2026)

10/15/2024

Three things have and always will hold my heart tighter than an improperly fit, over inflated blood pressure cuff-crochet hooks, crafts, new small businesses, and cute sh*t 🤭

So, in the spirit of egging on chest discomfort and having fun in the process, we’re teaming up with my favorite person in the whole wide world, and combining all of these wonderful things into one unbearably wholesome raffle.

For the coming seven days, or until all 8 listings are sold out-all purchases made at Sea Bird Crafting ( https://www.etsy.com/shop/seabirdcrafting/?etsrc=sdt ) will secure an entry to win 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 not one…..not two…..not three, but FOUR of our very own crochet hooks (pictured above).

At the absolute least, you walk away with a lifetimes worth of compliments on your adorable, festive earrings. At most, you win a small collection of truly unique, hand made crochet hooks carved from different types of wood collected from the plains Wisconsin to the coastal shorelines of Massachusetts.

Psssssttttt……it’s kind of a win win win 😊. Support new small craft business ✅ Good odds of procuring some sexy af crochet hooks ✅ Get festive bling ✅ make me smile ✅

Wishing all of you well!

03/13/2024

Last night I ended up walking into the emergency room for what would amount to a diagnosis of not mild Anxiety. It was only a matter of time until that motherf**ker got me good, and boy did he 😂. Like 🔫 pew pew 💥💀🪦 🪽🥵😭 good.

For those of you who have followed along since the inception of this colorful era of my life you’ll be familiar with these special little projects that come about every so often, usually during or following something a little personally heavy-and this bow legged bush craft hook is no exception.

Built on the backbone of pure exhaustion, this 7.5mm whipper snapper to me, represents more than a hook turned from dangy, old forest wood plucked from a small town swamp land….it represents a small moment of courage, during a dark and chaotic time, one small step for man, one giant leap for Higgledy-kind and all that smushy jargon.

It’s got some pretty cool non-emotional features as well. A series of bark beetle? trails on the front, a perfectly bowed profile-not so bendy you would want to throw it out of a café window and expect it to circle back around to you and your project, but not so not bendy that it’s boring like non bendy hooks. Hard to make out in the photos, but it smells like wet leaves which is cool. Also has very faint yellow hues to it in some spots that could be from the wood or where it was found, more likely, it got knicked by a mustard packet on my workbench.

Anyways-cool hook, special hook, meaningful project. Thank you to everyone who’s followed along my little journey, its progress, setbacks, shenanigans, and allowed me to share it with you. And welcome! To those who have recently joined 😊

03/08/2024

God I hope I look this delectable when the lights go low 🧌

03/05/2024

What a gnarly looking crochet hook blank, don’t you think? This little fella was turned from an old piece of driftwood from my little summer carving wood hoard, and after seeing the results….I don’t think I’ll be keeping much, if any, for non hook related purposes moving forward.

It was a tough turn. It took about a dozen feet of wood, and a few hours of emotional regulation in the form of cursing to find a piece structurally sound enough to work with. My neighbor told me that when wood soaks for long periods of time, its fibers expand and separate from one another, which is why driftwood is tricky to slap on a lathe and make positive memories with. He is a bit of a loofa brained character like myself, but the logic generally seems pretty sound 🤷-and being so, I think we lucked out on getting this one done. Fingers crossed it survives the coming onslaught of sawing, carving, sanding, and the gauntlet of physical, Forged in Fire style testing, all of the hooks go through before finding new homes. Dun Dun Dunnnn…..😱😱😱

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03/04/2024

Painting 🎶 Sticks 🎶 To 🎶 Look 🎶 Like 🎶 Fish doodoodoo doodoodoo doodoodoo 🤓🤪.

This little rump roast of a stick was pulled from the river near the house late last summer and recently cleaned and painted to closely resemble (hopefully) a Spiny Dogfish a.k.a the cuss cushion of every New England ocean fisherman.

Perhaps I’ve grown lazier or more tired over the course of my 30th winter-but I’ve become quite fond of minimalistic projects such as this. No carving, no turning, sanding, leveling, nailing. Just some aquatic looking sticks, a paintbrush, and an excess of time to kill. Certainly one of my favorite little projects to date and something I’ll happily be doing more of in the future as time goes by.

I hope everyone has been doing well, it’s been a while 😊

01/31/2024

Alas, the new smallest wood shafted hook I’ve made to date. Coming in at a whopping 4.5mm, I would be hesitant to trust my life with this things ability to crochet air without breaking, yet, here we are. Numerous bends, table whacks, dart throws, and tension tests later-this son of a gun stands. Proud, un-splintered, unbroken, sleek, emotionally bruised, and ready for its next adventure-hopefully the home of someone who does none of these things with their crochet hooks 🤦.

12/19/2023

“Did you take your blood pressure medication today?!?”

The old mans brows reached for each other across the wrinkled, pigment faded exterior of his forehead-beneath which, one singular thought of “Oh Sh*t” resided. He stared at the silhouette of his Old Lady for some time, silent, hoping that the unwavering look of confusion he was masterfully projecting would absolve him of the coming lecture.

One second turned to two. Two to six. Six to twelve and twelve to 60. He didn’t break character. He knew she knew, and boy did she. She had seen the face a million times over their lives. What began as a fruitless attempt to side step the incoming and inevitable wrath of the woman who cared transitioned to admiration as he stood there-silent, staring at her. “Oh sh*t” was replaced with recounted memories of their life, that came and left his mind quickly photos on old projector slides. Their first kiss, watching his wife console their son after his first heartbreak. Staying up on summer nights to look at the stars together, and so on.

“Mr. Holtz! Did 👏 You 👏 Take 👏 Your 👏 Medication??” A large, frustrated looking, scrub dressed woman asked standing over him. “So??????? Did you?”

The old man opened his eyes. A laminated staff badge from the retirement home he lived in rest at the end of his plane of vision. A morbid reminder of his present reality.

“Mr. Holtz!!??” The woman insisted once more.

Pushing firmly off of slick, black leather arms of his wheelchair, with the gentle touch of a deteriorating man, Mr. Holtz pivoted his body, and head toward the obituary photo of his wife that hung on the wall. He closed his eyes once again-returning to the old projector slides of his life’s memories, and smiled. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye-soaking into the delicate fabric of the sweater his wife had made and gifted him on their last Christmas.

“No, my love. I haven’t.”

10/30/2023

Going to be listing a few older carvings on my Etsy this week once I’ve dusted off the virtual con webs and re-familiarized myself with the app. Those pictured are what’s going up. The spooky character from a few posts prior is also for sale (likely minus the scenery to avoid a shipping nightmare). If you’re interested in anything mentioned before they go up-feel free to shoot me message.

Price will be (excluding shipping), in photo order: 40, 60, 40, 30. 80 for spooky witch lady.

Happy Craftoween you talented folk 👻🧙‍♀️🎃✂️📎🔨😊

10/12/2023

Quick dusk time whittle. I’m not entirely sure what kind of tree this wood belongs to or if it’s some kind of w**d, but it’s always a pleasure to run into when walking through the woods. We made a few hooks from this earlier in the year and they are shaping up to be some of my favorites.

It’s difficult to make out in the photos, but the bark is pretty reflective of a picturesque star filled sky at night. The first thing that pops up in my head when I look at it is that classic children’s book Goodnight Moon. The aesthetic of it, and ease of working with this wood, brings about similar feelings of a nostalgic calmness almost, that one might have felt when being read a bedtime story years ago.

10/10/2023

Casualty of the landscapers. This little guy initially belonged to the root system of a large pine tree a good 35ft away from where it previously grew onto the driveway. Maybe I’m inserting a bit of myself into the image of this hook, but it’s giving me very strong “lost soul” or “wandering soul” vibes. It served a purpose, and now it’s not quite entirely sure what that is or how to find it again. Something everyone has felt at some point in their lives.

Fortunately for this orphaned tree root, a crazy crochet hook maker lives next door 🫠. With purpose you served and with purpose you shall continue on little guy🤘. I got you!

Anthropomorphizing sticks aside, I feel like it absolutely fits the seasons theme of ghosts, ghouls, and campfire stories and it will be a welcomed addition to my little Halloween Hook hoard.

(This is not a landscaper bash. They are damn good at their job😂)

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10/07/2023

The most wretched, seasonally appropriate stick I could find 😱🧙‍♀️👻🎃 and the resulting crochet hook. Still 50/50 on wether or not eyes should be painted in those little pits and knots. It would certainly fit the Halloweeny theme, but I’m afraid it’s going to weird me out too much to keep around😂.

What do you guys think? Leave it as is or turn it into a tool of terror?

10/04/2023

The Legend of Anna Pembroke Part 1

Anna Pembroke was born as most were in the small, lowlish village of Gainesville-between two earth toned clay walls, and under a straw fashioned roof that wept when it rained. And like most, Anna was sold to the region’s governing family shortly after.

Coined “The Birthplace of Despair,” Gainsville was not only a poor town, but one with a colorful and consistent history of almost divine shortcomings. Plague, famine, flood, fire, drought, death. Its mud filled streets and calloused foundation weighed so heavily on the lives of those that called this hell home, many did not live to see seasons transition past 20. Those sent away at birth like Anna, however, did.

By 20, Anna had made quite a name for herself. She married into the governing family and gave birth to an heir of the lands. Now, Lady Sarspree, Anna was a treasure of the Kingdom. She was kind, beautiful-a woman of humility and grace. Her repertoire as “Child of the Mud,” no longer danced in mouths and ears of local folk. Life, for Sarspree, was nothing short of fantastical…until one October eve in 1637.

On this day, Lady Sarsprees child, Oliver, left home on his horse to play in the local river as he did every evening for the last 6 years. Oliver was an aspiring traveler. He would place sticks upstream and watch as they sailed off into the horizon with the hopeful excitement of knowing that he too, one day, would sail further than eyes could see. Every day he did this for hours playfully imagining, with his four-legged companion, what worlds existed outside of his families’ territories. And every day as the sun began to close its delicate eyes, Oliver returned home, except for today.

As darkness kissed the outer walls of the Sarspree estate, Lady Sarspree knew something was wrong. The echoing halls of the building’s entry way hadn’t sang with the excitable young boys tales of lands unknown and the mythical beasts that roam them yet, and the porcelain lid on the container that housed his favorite post-adventure snack, remained comfortably rested against the containers lips untouched.

Higgledy Piggledy Wood

10/15/2024

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