Sewing frenzy

 Hot off the machine, one Amy Butler 'Anna Tunic'.

Contrast yoke inspired by my ever present stack of Boden catalogues (in particular, this top). It also has the cunning advantage of negating the need for any pattern matching (not my forte!).

Hard to photograph on the washing line, or on myself. So I roped in the closest body. I didn't trust him not to drop my camera, so he had to wear the tunic instead.


Not every 7 year old boy could pull it off, but I think he's rocking the look!

Now could someone please explain when my son got large enough for my clothes to (sort of) fit him?

The game

 Just one of those ones that begs to be played. Go on, it's Friday.

The concept:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.

The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.

I stole it from Suse. If you want the proper answers, you'll need to check out the mosaic in Flickr.

 Did you notice how rainy it's been the last day or so? There are a number of legitimate reasons for this:

1. It's a Bank Holiday Weekend
2. We decided to go camping. Because that guarantees excellent weather, right?

(Photo taken indoors before we left. There are no actual camping photos. That's how wet it was.)
3. The summer skirt that I've been ruminating over since last year is complete bar the hem.

(Photo also taken pre-deluge - although now I look closely, the clouds do appear to be gathering...).  Just be grateful it wasn't a sunhat on the sewing machine. Because the last time, that gave rise to one of the worst episodes of flooding in recent memory. Stay dry!

Calling all Persephone groupies

 One of the fringe benefits of reading blogs is that it satisfies my curious nature. I'm one of those people who is compelled to invent a backstory for complete strangers, based on the contents of their shopping trolley. And there's nothing I like more than people watching in railway stations, airports, cafes, just about anywhere really.

Sometimes, I have a brief encounter with somebody and I have to restrain myself from bombarding them with intrusive questions, because they have intrigued me in some way. Nicola Beauman is one of those people.

She is the founder of Persephone Books and I encountered her when Alice took me to a lunch event at the Persephone Shop. Nicola gave an introduction to Jane Brocket's talk on The Domestic Arts and I have remained intrigued ever since. Mainly about what leads someone to develop such impeccable taste.

Now, it seems, there may be an opportunity to find out more, because Nicola is coming to  Mostly Books in Abingdon to talk about the founding of Persephone (and hopefully much more). Tuesday July 8th at 7.30 pm. Grab your diaries if you can make it - you can contact the shop to reserve a ticket. Or let me know and I'll do it for you. We could do drinks afterwards. I may even be persuaded to do a personalized taxi service from Didcot station.

If you're very very lucky, you might even be allowed to touch our 'Nibbie' award for the New Bookshop of the Year.

Do you have any idea how much I like my job?

Roll up, roll up

 Some evenings, there is magic in the air. You can feel it on the breeze, or hear it in a snatch of music from far away. But tonight we discovered one of the places it comes from.

In fields and parks in the prettiest places in Gloucestershire, Wiltshire and Oxfordshire this summer, you may be lucky enough to encounter Giffords Circus. And if you do, be sure to seize the opportunity with both hands and clutch it tight.

For this is not your average traveling tat. This is a gloriously theatrical, nostalgic, family entertainment. This year the show is called 'Caravan' and is loosely based  on a gypsy horse fair in 1900. That bit may have gone over the heads of the children, but they soaked up every morsel of atmosphere, from the circus band to the amazingly detailed and very homespun costumes and tent decorations, to the candyfloss and sawdust and the fabulously bohemian atmosphere.

Truly, tonight was a night that made you long to let down your wayward curls and run away to live in a caravan. To watch your children run, nut brown and free and loose yourself in some idyllic fantasy of a lifestyle.

There are no pictures allowed during the performance, but I did find a You Tube video of behind the scenes at last year's show, 'Joplin'

And you can be sure I'll be in the queue for tickets next year too. Because look at this face:

See what I mean? Magic.

From the mouths of babes

 Johnny:  I want to play Mummies and Daddies, but we need a Mummy.

Me:           Shall I be the Mummy?

Johnny:  Yes.  (pause)     Why are you sitting down?

Ah yes, sometimes those little tongues speak the truth as they see it.

Have yours come up with any corkers recently?

Bookmaking (without a horse in sight)

 Hoxton is a very trendy place, if you're an arty type. It is home to the White Cube Gallery (much beloved of Brit artists like Damien Hirst and Tracey Emin). In fact, Monica and I had a quick look round after the event which really brought us to the area - a Jessie Chorley Workshop on bookmaking from found and recycled materials.

Sound familiar? Yes, there was a certain degree of panic whilst trying to come up with an idea for a narrative which was supposed to inspire our work. When I first suggested using shopping lists, it was rather tongue in cheek. But then the idea began to grow on me. Because there really isn't a much more succinct way of summing up the domestic life of a family.

And when rummaging unearthed a battered copy of a household manual from the 1950's, the subject matter of my project was sealed.

The workshop was very easy going. Jessie had brought some of her work along to show us, and she was happy to explain how she had achieved certain effects, but basically, we cut and pasted and stitched to our hearts content.

There is something scarily liberating about butchering a book ( or perhaps that reveals a deep seated character flaw...). I had also spent the week beforehand, squirreling away any interesting snippets of paper which crossed my path.

But my favourite find has to be the slip of  paper left by the book's original owner - her weekend menu plan.

Cutting secret boxes into the pages.

Hamming (or should that be beefing) up the butchery section.

The book isn't finished yet, but I haven't enjoyed the process as much in a long time.

The A to Z of knitting

 When Alice mentioned a while back that she was thinking of organizing a masterclass at Loop, I begged shamelessly to be allowed to go.  And today was the day!

And not only did I learn to make buttonholes, and wrap stitches and weave in my ends and mattress stitch and set in shoulders, but I got to do it all with a whole bunch of lovely folks from blogland.

Oh yes, Alice herself, workshop and picnic planner extrordinaire; Kristina, who puts up with my nagging her to start a blog with remarkable good cheer; Tracy, the fastest knitter in the west and award worthy quiche maker; Monica, my partner in crime on Saturday too (more on that next time); and last, but certainly not least, Val, who I was overjoyed to find is every bit as fun in real life as she is in print and makes a mean stitch marker.

I wonder if there is a collective noun for bloggers? A meet?  Or perhaps a babble?

There was way to much jollity going round for me to remember to take any pictures, which is a shame, because we had a very photo worthy picnic in the park, as well as a good drool over the bounteous riches of Loop. Although I do feel we slightly let ourselves down with our lack of yarn purchased. It's probably the fault of learning a whole load of finishing techniques - we might actually have to complete a few things before casting on something new!

 

Now I really have to go and have a long hot soak in the bath, because I feel like I walked across half of London on a very sticky day carrying a hugely heavy rucksack.  Maybe because I did, but I'd do it all again tomorrow given half the chance.

 Having mistakenly weeded out my beloved cow parsley from under the tree earlier this Spring, Johnny and I were forced to ransack the hedgerows for this bunch instead. But I have had one gardening triumph.

Look out through the window. In January the wisteria got a stern talking to. Something along the lines of "If you don't flower this year, it's the axe for you matey". Seems to have done the trick.

Little stamps

 Sometimes it feels good to fall back on something familiar.

Particularly when you are nervous about trying something new. I'm casting about for inspiration to prepare for a workshop by Jessie Chorley. The plan is  to make a book based on a personal narrative, but suddenly I seem to be all out of stories. I do have a great deal of old shopping lists though. Do you suppose those might work?

Better keep planning I think.

Some folks seem to have the knack of making something special out of the everyday. Capturing a moment - check out Record the Day and you'll see what I mean. And how about the UK at Home project. Seven days, captured on film and made into a book which somehow captures the essence of home.

Frustration

 Bank holiday weekend comes with the gift of an extra day's respite from ordinary life, so I didn't expect to feel frustrated today, but I am.

See these stitches in all their gorgeousness. Part of my attempt at a shrug which is finished, but doesn't fit. Before casting on, I knew the amount of yarn I had was a bit on the skimpy side, but I figured if I knitted faster, it would be enough. Stretch the space-time continuum or something . It looks lovely, just not on me. Actually, probably not on anyone who doesn't resemble a weeble.

The thing that distresses me the most is that the time invested in making it has been wasted. Spare hours are the most precious commodity as I try to shoehorn everything I want to do and need to accomplish into the allotted 24/7.

Megan was right the other day, what I need is a wife.

On my windowsill you can find...

 Monica asked, so I thought I'd show you.

I have 3 windows in my kitchen. Lots of sill. Lots of junk. Lots of spiky plants - I'm sure that's not good feng shui.

Window 1. The metal gizmo is the blade from my stick blender. And the figure is hubby's wizard. I don't really like him - he stares at my kitchen slovenliness in a horrified way and it really ticks me off.

Although, seeing this junk on Windowsill number 2, I appreciate his expression may have a point. Yeast from my last baking session, leaf gelatine used last week, garlic pot (with broken top) and aquilegia seeds in an envelope harvested last Autumn.  Note to self - put tidy kitchen on the 'to-do' list.
Bananas live here semi-permanently, because I heard you mustn't keep them with other fruit as the ethylene they release makes other fruit go off faster. Spiky plant number 3.

This is the  third windowsill that, in theory, holds the frequently changing, tastefully grouped, seasonal display. Ha ha ha ha ha (barely concealed hysteria). I suppose conkers ARE seasonal (just not this season). And the recent Johnny-art is at least of the moment.

Sometimes, taking photos of things really makes you see them. Time to  haul myself away from the screen, head for the aforementioned kitchen and do some clearing up. In my next life, I'd like to come back as an obsessively tidy person. Preferably with a cleaning lady.