My foot is hurting man!

Natural Jacob top, spun chunky

I haven't spun in any amount for such a long time and then I go and spin up about 250g of Jacob in one evening. Destined for a good wide scarf for Carol, I'll probably have enough over to make a Christmas present for somebody else as well. So spinning for about two hours and then plying it up takes a bit of doing and my poor ankle is not used to it anymore. We'll see how I am tomorrow, Church and dancing should shake a few of the knots out of the the old tendons there!

I had forgotten how soothing spinning is for me. Todd watched me work up an afternoon's spin, about 50 g of parrot acrylic in single lace weight and he made a comment along the lines of that it was so monotonous that I really would be happy working in a factory - well...yes. I have worked in a factory in the past and I enjoyed it very much actually. But there is more to it with spinning. There is the regularity, the rythm, the chance to make good or foul up with every turn of the wheel ( always a knife edge with me) and the wonderful fact that it occupys the hands and part of the mind, leaving the rest of the mind to sort things through without the rest of the thought processes getting in the way. I have never prayed with a rosary, but I should imagine the methods are similar. I pray a lot when I spin. That probably helps with the calming influence too I suppose.

Lily's cardi

This pic is of a cardigan that my mum knitted for Lily, Eden has one also , but that needed a wash almost immediately. I thought it was so cool I had to take a photo of it and boast...

Better to light a flamethrower...

than curse the darkness - Terry Pratchett (Jingo - I think)

Anyway, just returned to my home blog after a little wander around Space to see what you lot are doing. Nicole is busy, Patty is content, Inland Empire Girl has sorted her desk.
And I read over what I wrote in my early morning post and thought that I sounded rather forlorn too. So to let you know I'm not and I'm off to get the fire lit, pop Bryan on the CD and get shifting with coffee and the rest of the day.

So, hope you all have a sunny, joyful day even if it is tipping down outside.

Rain, rain go away!

The mountain opposite my house has dissappeared. It is hammering down and it is so cold.

I cannot wait to get to Alabama, I hear it's warm there. I could stand that.

Friday Five

1. Have any road trips planned?
Alabama to Texas baby, yeah!

2. What is out of your reach?
Loads of things. Glasses shelf in my kitchen, pillow cases in my airing cuboard, the back of the fridge. Stars, moon, villanelles

3. Are you more likely to watch a sunset or the sun rise?
Sunrise due to chronic insomnia.

4. What night will you never forget?
Can't remember

5. What's the last thing that made you scream?
Losing a friend...I was a bit upset

Zac the Cushion

Here is Lily, using poor sleepy Zac as a head rest. He did not stir, not a twitch. I swear that cat could sleep through the last trump.

Spent Out...almost

Borders was fab. Had company this time so it was a bit more fun. Debated the relative merits of David Gemmel versus Robin Hobb (Gemmel, no contest) with my middle nephew and got treated to coffee by my dear sister.
I was rather sad to find that there were no spinning books that I could find. Plenty of crochet offerings and I managed to have a look at Flirty crochet and I'm glad I did. I was thinking of ordering it with amazon but really, flirty it was not...and I think that is all I can say and stay within my kind blog remit. I didn't buy it shall we say.

Had a good gander round the history section, Sis bought a grim book on the Cesares and the new book by the editor of GQ magazine on ettiquette for the modern man. I read a paragraph of it and indeed it seemed invaluable, quite pungent, but dealing with some relevant issues that a young man might come up against in life in general. How come kids are not taught how to break up with someone nicely in school? Anyway, Tom is getting this as a parting gift when he leaves for Uni in September. A black day that will be too, not looking forward to that. It strikes me that this book by Dylan Jones I think his name is, would also be quite a handy users guide as it were for females. Always interesting to get the insiders view point and sometimes quite handy when one is at a loss.

It was not too long before I inevitably gravitated to the poetry section. Well, I've seen better shall we say. There were the usual suspects...Poetry Please! The Rattle Bag, Andrew Motion, Benjamin Zephaniah - even angrier than the last time I read him. There were some delicate little books on haiku and a clear mile of W.B. Yeats, is there a centenary coming up or something? And there was not an anthology there that did not churn out the same old same old that they always do. I didn't want the slim volumes of a single poet, though I did think about a pretty little volume of RS Thomas, but at seven quid for a book that was less than half a centimetre thick...No, not really. Then just as I was about to give up I found Poetry to MAke You Smile. I could stand that I thought, picked it up and read three harmless little ditties that I had never read before. Printed on paper so thick as to be almost chunky, it is pleasingly modern in design with a decent size but not obtrusive print

The Rabbit
The rabbit has a charming face:
Its private life is a disgrace.
I really dare not name to you
The awful things that rabbits do...

Anon

That is a little exerpt from one of my favourites. And it's not as awful as you might think at the finish.

From Borders I had a few errands to run in town and as I didn't have the encumbrance of a double pram, took the opportunity to have a browse in some clothing stores. Hardly ever get that opportunity. And there waiting for me was this funky little halter neck dress in a lovely soft slinky cotton. Sold. Can't remember the last time I bought a new dress. Now all I need is somewhere to wear it.

So an enjoyable afternoon, just what I needed. I haven't had retail therapy session like this since last Christmas and I don't think it's over yet. Just don't tell V that's all.

Almost ten o clock now and the insomnia of last night is starting to bite. I'm off to bed.

Nos da my lovlies

Summer

It is Summertime and I realised last night that I have had the same look on my blog since Easter. Time for a change and brighter colours in the hope that the sun will come out and give poor soggy Wales a break from the rain.
Have had terrible insomnia again this night. Eden woke me at two with a spirited attempt at sleeping on my head, using my neck as her pillow. Unable to breath for sleepy baby crushing my throat, I woke up good and proper!

Almost six o clock now. Have spent the night travelling from Australia to Canada, Plillipines (some mad bloggers there, utterly eccentric) California and various places in dear old Blighty. Not bad for an evenings wander in blogspace. Learnt a few things only one of which I wish I had not read!

On the spinning front - the Winghams fantasy fibre collection stands thus so far

• Tussah silk in Seascape (100g)
• White mongolian cashmere (100g)
• Violet merino wool (200g)
• Delphinium merino wool (300g)
• Wool, alpaca and silk blend in grey (indeterminate amount)
• Yak down (sample as it is the very dickens to spin but so soft that I can't resist)

It may go up or down, most of the fun of shopping with Winghams is the sheer array of stuff that they have and the catalogue keeps me happy for about a week before I settle on the things I definately want. It might have been cheaper to actually go to Woolfest...maybe not, they sell yarn there too. Could you imagine me in a place of unlimited yarn, my wool budget for the year and no V to reign me in. I think I'd die right on the spot from sheer glee. No, far better to stay at home where I am safe from temptation...where did I put that catalogue?

See you later my lovlies to tell you what I succumbed to when I get back from Borders.
Have a fun filled, book lined day.

Not Well Again!

Yuk, bleaurgh I'm not well at all. Sniffing and snooshing, red nosed and gasping with hayfever on top of a summer cold. Sore throat, itchy eyes and drugged up to the eyeballs. If this is what full medication turns me into then I dread to think what I would be like without it!

So, to take my mind off it, what shall I do? Spinning makes me sleepy, ditto knitting and I don't think I can concentrate enough for cobweb. I could crochet, finish off the simplest sleeve ever but that means I have to take this lovely warm laptop off... well... off my lap rather appropriately. The weather is foul. Grey whistly drizzle swooshing up the valley and I have to go out and pick up Rose in under an hour when I can barely see to drive.

Nomads have the coolest clothes, they are fairtrade too

What shall I do? Not dishes, not laundry. It's going to have to be surfing. A spot of retail therapy I think. Nomads have got some very pretty skirts that I've been wanting for some time. And I think, seeing that Woolfest is now definately off, I will pop by Winghams and get some seascape tussah silk that I have been wanting for ages.

silk hankie, colour way seascape

Yup, Woolfest is off. V really didn't like the idea of me going. It is a long way and really what would I get there that I couldn't get over the web? So, save the petrol and spend the money on silk instead. And maybe a poetry book?

That said, I have just remembered that I'm off to Borders tomorrow with my sister. I went on Saturday on my own, but it is really a place for company. I sat on the balcony, on the high seats like barstools, all on my own and talked to myself, but then I laughed out loud at something my imaginary companion said and I realised that I could well become the floor show if I was not careful.
I finished my coffee quickly and slunk off. There is an amazing array of books there and dvd's but was somewhat bemused by the service. I asked a perfectly intelligent looking young chap if Brief Encounter was in stock and he told me the sci fi was over the other side of the store. Understandable I suppose, Brief Encounter came out in1945, but nevertheless possibly the greatest film ever made. I don't know. Still, he didn't look as if Celia Johnson was his type.

I've ordered it since on amazon, should be coming tomorrow. I'll send V out somewhere and sob into my popcorn for doomed love - it is the best weepie in the world, ever so much better than the horse whisperer.

So, that's my day. I'm off now, surf's up!

Wild Flowers - Haiku for One Deep Breath

Love grows anywhere
Grows where it should not sometimes
Love is a poppy

The prompt for this week is Bugs and creepy crawlies and I just can't...so I wrote about last weeks prompt instead. For more haiku on God's little creatures visit ODB

The Other Mural

It has been a slow week on the craft front so I thought I would show you some pics of the mural that I painted in our bathroom a while ago

Can you spot the grumpy frog?

Okay, I know lions don't live in the jungle, sue me

Close up of grumpy frog

Happy Birthday

Lily did her favourite trick again and woke me at three. Lay there for bit listening to the rain on the window, 6 o clock thoughts trotting through my mind when I remembered groggily that this is Rose's birthday. I thought back...

Seven years ago almost to this hour I nudged V awake
I've had enough of this. (counting increasingly annoying contractions and watching my husband sleep unconcernedly through it all) It's time to go.
He replied (and as long as I live I will never let him forget this) Do we have to? It's three o clock in the morning.
Pow! I nudged him good, woke him up properly.
Yes, through gritted teeth, we have to go now. Do you want me to drive there myself?
No, no oblivious to sarcasm I'll be there now.

I remember the air was still and warm as milk as we made our way from hospital parking to the maternity wing. Steam was coming out of a vent somewhere and a blackbird had just started the overture. It was very peaceful.

By half six that morning it was all over. I had gone in expecting a marathon, packed a book, energy drinks, sandwiches for V, tapes, socks, everything. But due to some interesting complications Rose was born by c section, whipped out like fresh tumbled laundry and placed into V's wary clasp almost immediately. And me? I didn't give a damn...hooked up on a morphine drip, everything was fine. I've got a daughter? Great, fab...aren't these sheets a pretty colour?

By evening time I was back in the land of the living, still on morphine but they had evened me out a bit by then, I don't think they liked my singing.

They brought her to me, dark and tiny, like a new kitten. I stared at this astonishing creature that was now my whole world. She yawned and struggled against the swaddling. And I paddled my first hesitant strokes into the sea of motherhood.

Ben Jonson* I think it was that wrote that his son was his finest poem. Oh yes...I know, I know.

Happy Birthday Kitten, I'll never forget the day of your birth, one of the most beautiful of my life.

*Though now I come to think of it it might be John Donne

The Joys of Parenting

Inspired by Patois and Rose an ocean away but very near in experiences I thought that I would write a little about my joys of being a parent and the fact that my kids have a hero dad.

Today Rose is off to a wedding with her Gran. I refused to attend on the grounds that I would die of cynicism. But Rose loves a chance to dress up and be told how lovely she is (who doesn't?) So, there she is, hair plaited elf style with ribbons, finger nails painted, tiny bit of Mum's lipgloss and there she is, a vision at seven, God help the Neath boys in ten years time.

Well, I'd like to do my dishes
but I can't find the sink

Right, she's done. Time to sort out the kitchen. We had a new sofa and chairs last night, completely out of the blue, so it meant getting rid of our rather grotty suite (yay!) and the even grottier toy chest hulking in the corner (yay!) but the end result is Seven...count them...seven bags of toys and assorted clutter to sort, throw out, find new homes for. And all the while the girls are delving through the mayhem and finding toys that haven't seen the light of day in about a year. Good grief.

In the midst of this Rose shrieks My earrings!

You see, I in a fit of abberation, had promised her new earrings to go with the dress she was wearing to the wedding. This was ages ago. I bought the beads and findings, threw them in my beading box and forgot all about them. Rose however, posesses a fantastic memory. She remembered my promise with an hour to go before she left and hell's own mess everywhere. Oh No! I don't have my crafting head on. Can I blag my way out of it? A promise is a promise...arrrgh... moral difficulty however, was melted in her big sky eyes. Can't resist, out comes the bead box and the quickest pair of earrings and necklet that I have ever made. It's amazing what one can do given the right motivation.

I looked up with my bead blurred vision ( I should wear glasses for close work- getting old see? - but I can never find them) to find that V the magnificent had cleared all the mess on the dining table and had carried out half a ton of rubbish to the car ready for him to take it to the tip, which he later did, came back and took Rose to the wedding before visiting his father in hospital. Wow, I have in fact married an angel.

My children however...

You see, while all this is going on...and I haven't told you about the mechanical Christmas mouse that sings "Let it Snow" on repeat and belting it out mind you, in order to compete with Bryan Adams in the kitchen assuring me that the only thing that looked good on him was me...I wish.. and the fact that I'd also forgotten to feed Zac so he was all over me purring seductively and telling me how wonderful I was. Eden, sensing a weakness took the opportunity to sneak upstairs. Okay, so got the picture? Mayhem, beads, hungry cat, Bryan, mouse, toys from pillar to post, got it? Good...now add MUMMY! from upstairs. Fortunately, I was snowed under with beads and simply could not move or else Lily would be in there like a hawk and these are swarovski crystals darling...expensive stuff, can't go, you see to it. Off V went, not knowing the horror waiting for him. Eden, having failed to negotiate the loo properly had done what she needed to do in the bedroom - in copious amounts. And it was not pretty at all. Not at all...

So there you are not a typical morning thank goodness, but worth remembering. At least I think so. Whether V will ever be able to forget, long though he might wish to, is another thing.

Go West!

Yes, even further west than Manorbier... we are off to America for August - Alabama and maybe a bit of Texas. Do I need to pack a jumper? :)

Means we'll miss an awful lot of stuff here though. The Cordell festival, Zoe and Jonathan's wedding - I was looking forward to seeing how stunning Zoe would be on her wedding day, Sharon and Chris's wedding, at which I was supposed to read :( Even the Brecon Mountain centre three day spinning demonstration which I was planning on living at.

But oh, the realisation of a lifetime's dream. Real heat, toasted earth, both a familiar and utterly strange culture seen up close. The food...mmm... steaks, gumbo, tex-mex. And we are going to stay with families, not a hotel or anything...and we are going for the longest time that we have ever been away but with a real point in mind (helping missionaries) What a chance to do something really different.

And then by September I will be desperate to get back home, to the green and the sheep and the Welsh accent. The first spin of the new term at Ponty Cross. And we will be back the first week in September, get over jet lag and hit life at a run once more.
V is certain that something amazing is going to happen shortly and I have never seen him wrong when he gets these things. Sometimes it is hard for me to see above the humdrum of my daily life...when the kids have eaten me alive that day and there is nothing but skin and bone masquerading as a mum, cooking the tea that they are probably going to turn their noses up at anyway. Sometimes it's hard to be a woman...I know get the flippin' violins out...all together 1,2,3.... ahhhh, poor Sian.

But there we are, that is life with its ups and downs, gains and losses, triumphs and disaster... and treat these two imposters just the same? I'll try Mr Kipling...

Okay, now I know ...

Your Bumper Sticker Should Be

Come to the darkside, we have cookies

What Bumper Sticker Should Be On Your Car?

Diawch!

Just now have I had the chance to watch Blaenafon Festival in peace. Duw duw.

Howling I was, howling...but not as bad as Trevor. My son is dead! Christ pity me! Packing into that, his one line, as much pathos as the entire cast did in all their speeches. Pillow time for me.

And the bum notes (mine) in Did you not see my Lady. And the looooong pause (V's) where you just know that he has forgotten his line and then...then I roll my eyes at him. What a professional.

But the prize must go to Iolo with his spooked owl. Not a toowit y whoo but more a startled ooh! that sounds like Morfydd had grabbed him where he'd rather not be grabbed, or at least not without a bit of warning see? For it can be important to a man.

Laugh? Diawl Edwina...what's my next line?

Jessie's Diets

Jessie was a favourite character on a favourite sketch show of mine called The Fast Show. It didn't last very long and has long since been eclipsed by Little Britain, which passes me by completely, which is a sure sign of getting old.

Anyway, Jessie used to come out of his shed on his allotment, hitch up his grotty trousers and bark at the camera in broad Devon
"This week I have been mostly eating..." and then say the most bizarre ingredient like "Figs" or "pate fois gras" and then he'd scrabble back into his hut and bang the door closed.

I found it hilarious.

So I rather liked the swiping of it in This week I have been mostly reading...in the titles of some of my posts. Just wanted to clarify that for some reason.

The point of that was to let you know that this week I have been mostly reading...

Enchanted, erotic fairy stories for women
by Nancy Madore

Man, it is nasty. There are some glowing reviews on Amazon - don't believe them. This book is just yuk. And there I'm leaving it.

But it did get me thinking that I am certain that I could write better than that. I've loved Mills and Boon for many years and they can get decidedly racy in places so I know that erotica can be written well. So I got my serious writing hat on and away I went.

So then I thought some more and considered that this is a craft blog, but I put an awful lot of poetry and stuff on here. So organisation waved its tiny paw at me and suggested I start another blog for the creative writing that I have done. So I have. And I'm filling it up slowly with the stuff that I have had hanging around and had nowhere to put. So...there it is I've told you.

Link removed, see below

I've only put a snippet of the erotic fairy story up on the new blog and there is nothing to frighten the horses there, but I would be grateful if you could give a bit of feedback if you felt like it.

Also, and it is a valid question to ask, V - my arbiter in most things of sensible behaviour (as I foul up in that department so often) - doesn't like the idea of erotica at all and thinks that a good Christian woman should have nothing to do with it. This despite almost daily evidence that I am not very good at being a Christian anyway. I just happen to be rather fond of Jesus, that's all, I'm useless at listening to Him though.

So...what do you think? Should I be stoned for thinking up stuff like this? Or should I not be stoned, but let it go anyway, or doesn't it matter? I honestly want your opinion. Please share. I know comment moderation has been enabled but I promise to post up every ones point of view regardless of wht you say.

Thanks

Additional
Have removed link to writing blog as I really need to think about what I want to do with it. Thanks for the input guys, it's appreciated

Back Again!

Well, the problem didn't take that long to sort out. So thank goodness for that. It's hard to stop blogging when you are accustomed to it.

So, what I miss?

Hey Guys

Going off line for a few days
Don't be concerned if you don't hear from me for a bit

Nos da cariad

Lobster Quadrille Anyone?

This morning, right now, I don't think I can go. It is indeed a very long way away and I am certain that I would get as far as Staffordshire and want to come home. It is in Cockermouth, Carlisle is only over the next hill.
For some reason, due probably to a childhood travelling often to Scotland, Carlisle seems so far away. The border to another country as different from mine as Japan. But that's another story I suppose.
Just to say I'm in another state of mind to the militant spinner that goes to the ends of the earth for an opportunity to buy bison down. The internet has spoiled me. I don't ever have to leave my valley if I don't want to. I'm developing a village mentality. The trip to Cardiff should have shown me that one. Ha! I can't even travel forty miles without agraphobia setting in. ( That's not true by the way, it's just an illustration)

Cumbria would be good for me. Ohhh rats...I really can't decide

Will you, won't you, will you, won't you
Will you join the dance?

Woolfest...again

Well, the time is drawing near and I have got to make a decision. Do I go to Woolfest. I'm longing to go but the closer it is getting the squiffier V is feeling about me going all that way in my cronky peugot estate with only a spinning wheel for company and some sturdy knitting needles to protect my virtue if Hugh Jackson sees fit to attend and sees me across a crowded lace knitting demonstration.

I've offered to take Stephanie's dog with me as my heroic protector, but as she really suits her name (Tiny) and her defence mechanism is abject submission then I don't think my husband was greatly impressed.

So, if there are any massive, ferocious viking lookalikes, with mechanic skills and maybe a sideline in drop spindling, out there that fancy a wife sitting gig with all the wool they can carry home then just drop me a line at youmustbejokingifyouthinkimcavingtothehusbandoverwoolfest.co.uk

Its at the end of this month, Cumbria isn't that far away is it?

Look what came in the Post!

Wow! Goodies. A poetry book, Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters, obviously an American classic. Could it be the American equivalent of Under Milk Wood? There is Knit picks lace weight alpaca silk in a stunning colourway, and it has such a fab name too - Happy dance - in't that cute? A handmade bookmark and stich markers (which I would not have known how to use if it were not for Nicole's timely advice)

Just beautiful, thankyou so much Nicole.

Listen to this

Jonathan Swift Somers

After you have enriched your soul
To the highest point,
With books, thought, suffering, the understanding
of many personalities,
The power to interpret glances, silences,
The pauses in momentous transformations,
The genius of divination and prophecy;
So that youfeel able at times to hold the world
In the hollow of your hand;
Then, if, by the crowding of so many powers
Into the compass of your soul,
Your soul takes fire
And in the conflagration of your soul
The evil of the world is lighted up and made clear -
Be thankful if in that hour of supreme vision
Life does not fiddle

I think this book will be a pleasure, I'll go through it slowly, like a box of chocolates.

Happy Anniversary

Thirteen years today. Jimany, what a crazy day. Rain, drunks, fights, nervous and rather poor photographers, family politics and you and your best man pogo-ing to Faith No More whilst wearing kilts...kilts I ask you! It cleared the dance floor!

The Jersy Beach Hotel has since burnt down (an insurance job for certain) the Aberafan front has been tidied up out of all recognition. Almost all of our friends at the wedding have since divorced. And we, hanging on by the skin of our teeth sometimes, are never-the-less still here.

We have survived interference from well meaning loved ones, bereavement, a cult, flying accusations, three pregnancies...what a trip they were, and a mad man with a knife. (yes, I know he was second hand but it sounded rather good I thought)

Through it all my dear one you have been (almost) unfailingly gentle, courageous and soft spoken. You are my lodestone, the shoulder I lean on and the wisdom I try and listen to when the anntenae are screwed. Love you babe.

By the way, start saving now good boy, I want to go to Rome for our twentieth.

Happy Fathers Day

Yes, I know it's a Hallmark holiday, but still time to appreciate Daddys everywhere.

Lily and her Grandfather

My Dad is, of course, a product of his time. Where men worked down the pit and gave the money to Mam at the end of the week. Down the pub on Fridays, Saturdays in the vegetable patch or the pigeon shed and Sundays fighting the wife about going to chapel, going, coming home, eating dinner and then sleeping for the rest of the day to fortify them for the ten hour shifts in the week to come.
Daddy has told me about twice in my life that he loves me ( one of those times was on my wedding day, when he made it clear to me that I did not have to marry the musician/bum that I had chosen but could come back home if I wanted.) But, I've known his love for me like I know the ground is beneath my feet.


Of course the musician/bum grew up and became the finest father I've ever seen. Okay, so he lets them eat nothing but Wotsits and fromage frais all day so that when I come home they are psychotic on cheese flavouring and sugar but hey...
He has a gift for fun, he holds them like they are flowers carved from diamond, he teaches them, he guards their bodies and their spirits. And I know that in the years to come - not so far away really- when each one is carving a swathe through the male population of the town, he will guard their hearts too.

Here's to you Daddys both, with the best of your girl's love.

Discovery

Star in a Bear Suit has discovered poetry. I was delighted...just as soon as I had stopped sputtering about random words gag.
Poetry...random words!
Yes, of course...this'll get him -

Yoo hoo, Papa Bear?...
Poetry is random words in the same way that typography is funny squiggles.
There, that'll make him choke on his porridge

But the boy has taste, Byron as his starter for ten, She Walks in Beauty. Not bad, not bad at all.

I have lost it

My knitting I mean. I put cobweb down somewhere and I cannot for the life of me remember what I did with it. Honestly, you turn your back to get your housework under control and the crafting projects go into a fit of the sulks and wander off! What's a girl to do?

I must,must, must finish cobweb before I have another attempt at icarus. I fried my poor tiny mind last time and what a waste of effort.

Still, I dare say cobweb will turn up somewhere where I am least expecting it. The airing cuboard or somewhere. Until then, well, there is always my beloved louet, waiting patiently in the corner, starting the first sweet notes of the fleece singer. Cuddly falkland, silky blue faced liecester and fluid humbug jacob. Hum along...spinning day anyone?

A Choice

Over at Gracious Hospitality there is a purely beautiful post holding a snippet of Max Lucado's entitled The Choice. I heartily recommend it. Max Lucado is a gifted writer who holds hope out to Christians beaten up by life, stress and sometimes other Christians.

I have a choice today too. Do I take the hayfever meds and fall asleep due to side effects while the twins are in the house with me or do I plough on with ears, nose, eyes and throat so itchy I could take a chainsaw to 'em?

I know, I know, the answer is simple, go to the chemist and buy a non-drowsy med. But I can't see to drive! Never mind only half an hour before the cavalry aka V arrives.

Story Sacks

Notice the hippo/rhino? Couldn't find a rhino toy so I bought a hippo. A snip of white felt later and he's had a species change. Cool or what?

Storysacks are a reading initiative for nursery and infant years in school, the brain child of a headmaster up North (will Google it up and place link later).

The sacks comprise of a fiction book, a non-fiction book, toys to fit the characters in the story, a CD or tape of the book, themed games and puzzles and anything else you can think of really.

I have made one on Slinky Malinki by Lynley Dodd and another on The Gruffalo. And they both were amazing fun to make. It is not something to undertake lightly as it becomes a bit of an obsession getting just the right prop for the story. Well, first you have to pick the story, decide what age it is suitable for then plan the activities around that. Absorbing is the word.

So my next one is on Splash by Flora McDonall. Rose adored this story when she was a toddler and the twins love it too and that is always necessary for a good sack. It is very simple tale of hot jungle animals cooling themselves down in a waterhole. The illustrations are bold and bright - good colour identification point. And I think I can get a bit of science in there too - hot and cold, melting ice cube activities, along with opposite ideas and concepts. All aimed at the level of a three year old. it is not as easy as it sounds!

Today I found a book on opposites going for the pricely sum of 49 pence so I can cut that up and use it to make flash cards, which will save me the hassle of making them up in Publisher. So not only a bargain but a useful, time and effort saving one too.

Anyway, what with all that, I only have to record the story onto CD and I'm done. More brownie points for me with the nursery staff, a consideration when I have sent them Lily (aka the Molotov)
Pictures tomorrow hopefully
Nos da my lovlies

Dance With Me

Dance with me O lover of my soul To the song of all songs Romance me O lover of my soul To the song of all songs Behold You have come Over the hills Upon the mountains To You I have run My beloved You've captured my heart

With You I will go You are my love You are my fair one Winter is past And the springtime has come Dance with me

Lyrics by Chris Dupre

The words are not mine and neither is the music that it is set to, but the beat is 3/4, a glorious lilting waltz. And it is a favourite for me to dance to in worship.
Last night was a free service in Church on the Move. We are blessed with talented musicians in our group and they played their socks off last night. Old hymns, faithful words, glorious freedom in song, prayer and dance.
And dance! Did I!! Felt like I was flying, love it. I gave that silk banner a good work out I can tell you!

Woke this morning at 4 am thanks to a warm night, open windows and a peculiarly robotic sounding starling, trilling and popping away on the wires outside. The wind blew the breath of trees into the room and I had to go outside for a walk.

It was so peaceful. No traffic, rare even at that time of the morning on the travesty of a road that they have sliced through my valley. My robotic starling had gone back to bed and I was just beeped at by sparrows and a blackbird gave me a darned good telling off too. The nettles smelled warm, the rugosa roses smelled of heaven and Zac, who had kept me company, started mewing for breakfast.
Back to the house for shredded wheat and warm sweet milk(me) and crunchy fish biccies (Zac). I burned up a lot of calories last night. I bet I'll be wanting steak for lunch too. Perhaps we'll go out, save me cooking. I can't do steak very well.
Quiet day today I think. V will probably be visiting his Dad in hospital, but still back to church tonight. Just can't get enough of freedom.

Have a beautiful, song filled, rose scented day.

The Camel Speaks

Just when you think that you are going to die the slow death of attrition by kids a friend comes along and rescues you.

Yesterday evening after another day of being a bit low, Eden and Lily were finding straws with which to kill the camel, the last one being spreading a litre of bubble bath over my bedroom carpet, very foamy - great fun, and on a different day I would have laughed 'til I dropped but not that day. Then the inevitable happened and the soap got in their eyes.
The poor little blighters were pretty much in agony and there was very little hot water so their rinse was tepid (and rather brisk due to a seriously ticked off Mum) rather than the pleasant soak that they are accustomed to when bathing.

And we went from there. Do you know when you get a bee in your bonnet and finally see the chaos that you are living in? Maybe you don't have chaos, I have it in spades. So I hit it at a run and tidied the hall, which was getting me down and didn't realise it. Anyway, there I was throwing stuff out, muttering and grumbling and the phone went. It was Catherine.
Fancy going out tonight?
Heck yes
Okay ... and off we went, two familys, kids and all, to the Dyffryn Arms for a pint of Guiness, some dark chocolate and the company of friends.

Didn't you know? Camels are particularly fond of all three, straws melt right away.

Friday's Feast - weekly meme

Thanks to Clockwork Chris for the link to Friday's Feast.

Appetizer
What do you consider to be the ultimate snack food?

Either sweet popcorn or lightly salted doritos with mild salsa

Soup
On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 as highest), about how popular is your last name?

I don't know. I don't like it much, its rather plain.

Salad
Who is your all-time favorite sitcom character, and why?

Niles Crane from Frasier, because he is so witty and so dotty at the same time.

Main Course
Do you shop online? If so, name some sites you like to browse for goodies.

Yeah! Amazon, Posh Yarn, Wingham Wool, the chocolate tasting club, the early learning centre

Dessert
Fill in the blank: I think... hunters who hunt for sport...should be... hunted, (just once, just for them to know what it feels like.)

Thursday - Love is all around (on Friday)

Faith and Jonathan

Forgot to post on Love is all around yesterday. But here is one of my favourite photos. There is something shiny about newly weds. Life long love to them

Oh Rats!!

One of my favourite things to yell when things are not going to plan... if only I had remembered that this morning.
Took my mum to hospital this morning and knowing that there would probably be a lot of hanging about I took my knitting as well. Cobweb is not that portable as I have not yet photocopied the chart to cart about and the pattern book is not to be taken lightly anywhere.

So out came Icarus and the little sheets, written instructions and chart one. Since posting on the KAL have sorted my problem with the chart - duh, such a simpleton - and so I had high hopes that I could make some progress today. And I did. I managed a fair bit, half way though the chart and I dropped a stitch.
Okay I can cope, but it shot down the rows and I didn't have a crochet hook to rescue it. I tried but it looked appalling after I had finished. Thought about the many varied and exotic cuss words I know and decided that I was too flipping angry to use any of them and shouted OH NUTS in the middle of the waiting area. Unfortunately I realised seconds later that this is not necessarily the politest of things to shout anyway, it being vernacular for some things that ladies don't have and collapsed into red faced giggles, reduced to teenager all over again.

And alas, my darling icarus has been ripped right back for I think the seventh time :(

Never mind, tomorrow I dance.

Project Spectrum - All change

Project Spectrum's colours for June/ July are black, red and metallics. Wow, sexy. I love wearing red, so vibrant, but black is such a functional colour and it reminds me of the goth phase I went through in my teens when I thought that I looked soo cool and uncaring when really, now that I look at the photos some twenty years later (eeeek!) I look like a crow shedding feathers. Yuk. Anyway, reminiscence aside...metallics means beads and lots of them and I think I have a project in mind actually. Watch this space.

Icarus has been completely erased and the yarn is staring at me from the top of the dresser, purring seductively. Stop up my ears a la Odysseus and finish the Cobweb first I think. Cobweb has been neglected of late and is sulking on top of the piano. Poor little thing. What shall I do first, spectrum or a row or two of knitting? Actually I think I'd better go and wash the dishes first, no good fairy will do them for me and ignoring them doesn't work.

Have a crafty, chore free day. (Unlike me!)

Baby Icarus

Here she is, ripped back five times already, I kid you not! I cannot get the stitches on the kneedles to match the count on the pattern and I feel too much of a moron to go on the KAL and ask for help, I suppose that is why I joined it, but even so...


Update
Okay, it is now 11:30 pm and thanks to Amanda, I plucked up courage to post on the Icarus KAL earlier my problem with the stitch count that made this look spookily like a posing pouch (ewwww, thanks Jethro - I think). And I have found out that I have, in fact, been knitting a one sided Icarus, the poor dab wouldn't have even got off the ground let alone made it to the stratosphere with only one wing now would he?

So rip it up and start again...again. But now there is hope, for now I understand the PDF chart. Always a good thing to understand the pattern of the thing that you are knitting. I am cheered that it was a simple error. However, I wonder what time I will get to sleep if I cast on again now as I am itching to do...
No, I must be sensible and go to bed. Children have no mercy on knitting fools

Icarus

Cast on!
Chart one,
here I come.
At last!

Even More Silk Painting

Are you bored yet? Well I'm not. These colours are just so gorgeous. Here is my horse banner painted up. I wanted the colours of the Welsh flag, the knots symbolise both the Celtic spirit, its fluidity and concept of eternity and the running horse just speaks to me of freedom and strength, something I am very conscious of when it comes to worship, dance in particular...but don't get me started. I think that is a whole different post.

And another banner that I did last night as a trial run to see how well I could control the run of colour with the gutta (the white stuff used on outlines).

Some comparisons

La Tea Da, over at Gracious Hospitality left a kind comment on my previous silk painting post and I would like to assure her that silk painting is not that delicate, well ... not the way I do it! The outlining is a bit fiddley, but the painting itself is a very hotch potch affair and great fun too. My kids really enjoy it.
I don't think I'm through with silk just yet so you'll see a few more pics before all's done and I've run out of silk tissue!

Have a colourful, silky day!

One Deep Breath

Isambard Kingdom

Brunel weeps in envy as
Spiders lead the way

For more on Architechture check out ODB

For more on the amazing Mr I K Brunel check out here

More Cobwebs

That cobweb made me think about the pic I took ages ago of my cobweb shawl that I am attempting from Victorian Lace Today. Here it is. I reckon a spider might live in it if I paid her enough and gave her a blanket to keep out the draughts from the random holes that are not actually in the pattern, but yet are there in my version.
Every other knitter I know would rip this back to the beginning, but I know enough about myself to know that if I ripped this little sucker back I can kiss the shawl goodbye as I would never have the heart to start again. So, it is my Persian flaw cobweb shawl. Reminding me (as if I were not already amply aware) that only God is perfect.

Two Whole Hours to Go Wild

Hurrah! Huzzah! Tantivey! and all that jazz. School has started once more, Praise the Lord and the British School system that takes them at three! What shall I do? Dishes, laundry, twenty seven pick up boogie a la Fly Lady?

Nah

Knitting I think or silk painting or the story sack and let the housework go to H***. Yeah!!

Toys for the Splash story sack

I'll post on story sacks another time. TTFN!

More Silk Painting

Streamers

Horse on paper

Horse traced onto silk

Celtic knots

As promised, here are some pics of my attempts at silk painting. The streamers were very easy, just potched about and the colours were so glowingly beautiful that even I could not go wrong. But I also want to make a banner for myself when I am dancing in church. A large semi circle with a dowelling rod to wave with. They are very effective and especially useful when you have run out of breath with more energetic moves. Banner waving looks very kinetic with little effort!

Also I've said before that I am not an artist and the horse, (inspired by Rohan horse art - LOTR) lacks some of the fluidity I was after, the feet are rather shaky but not a bad stab in all.
The celtic knots are traced, taken from a fantastic book called the Crafter's Design LibrarySeries - Celtic by Chris Down. A really excellent resourse for all sorts of crafting stuff.

I'll post up some more shots when I've got the nerve to paint it up. I'm thinking green background, metallic gold horse and knots. Possibly marble it through with some red. I shall experiment but would welcome feedback if you are so inclined as I'm not that confident with colour myself (unless I'm wearing it). Thanks

Additional
According to my 101 in1001 I joined the Chocolate Tasting Club again. As Oscar said, I can resist everything except temptation.

Sunday scribblings

Country

City

Probably had way too much time on my hands this morning, but hey, fun with photoshop and it kept me quiet.
Look here for more Sunday Scribblings

This Week I am Mostly Reading...

Beloved Exile by Alexander Cordell. (Can't find an image sorry)

Thanks to Jethro, I have read this book in just over twenty four hours. Bad idea really as it is quite intense. It was written in the 90's, a long time after the Welsh Trilogy but it is centred on Iestyn, the storyteller in Rape of the Fair Country. It tells of the retreat from Afghanistan in1842 and every politician should be made to read it. I knew a little of the history as a great uncle of mine was shattered in Afghanistan just after WW1, but that's another story. Britain has crashed up against this rock time and again and we still haven't learned.

This book is not for the sensitive, it has all the casual brutality of some of the later Sharpe novels. The horrors are not described in lavish language, but the very starkness of the words allows the reader license to dwell where more florid images would deter. Anyway, it is a very fine book but I cared more about the characters in the Welsh Trilogy because they are my people: I know people like Hywel, Iolo, Morfydd and Mari. Durrani left me cold and the Royal messenger was a royal pain more like.

However the book had a different purpose for a different time. Our poor blood soaked little planet, mans inhumanity, luxury and poverty, perversion and beauty and against all odds and rather unexpectedly for Cordell, Iestyn ends up safe. He must have got fed up with bleak endings and lands our hero in safe haven in the end. At least one Mortymer ends happily. Thank goodness!

Painted Silk Banners

Lily and me (I'm tired by now) and the days labours behind us

Waiting to start the mayhem

Steph and Sara laying out the silk

Ness, the hero of the day

Today Vanessa earned herself a medal. Thirteen kids and their mums all congregated in the upper room and danced like lunatics. This is silk painting but not as we know it. Banners, dance and worship and children utterly unselfconscious in expression both in movement and colour. It was lovely to see.

Lovely too to see white habotai tissue fold into rainbow colours.

Colours galore

Inspired, I took some home myself. Will show you tomorrow with more pics