Blue String Pudding

Don't worry about the title, it's a Clangers thing. (They ate blue string pudding). Cashmere makes for very posh string though. I bought this yarn a good while ago and I was pleased with it but somehow over the months the colour faded to denim rather than violet. So in a fit of bravery I plunged it in the dye pot this morning. I am waiting for it to cool but so far it seems to have exhausted the dye bath well. More pics tomorrow when it has dried.

The weather here is frankly vile. Sheets of rain and bloomin' cold, that nasty bitey achey damp cold when the wind chills you to the bone. We have the fire blasting out and it is still not warm enough for my liking. I'm off to get a wooly pulley* and spending the rest of the afternoon cutting up magazines a la Pippa for a collage with the children. I bought Rose a journal this morning so we shall have fun this afternoon.

Hope you have a fun day too.

* a sweater, in case you're wondering

Project Spectrum - Dancing silks

These are some of the the skirts and trousers that I dance in. The orange is a tabard and is hand painted with flames. It is a particular favourite of mine because it is so vibrant. For my money, nothing picks out or displays colour like silk. And of course its drape and movement means it is excellent to dance in.

With Summer drifting closer it is likely that I'll be street dancing before long. Fun! (Just hope my foot holds out)
I am planning on a bout of silk painting today actually. The banner that I had a go at in Ashburnham was an utter disaster. I was in too much of a rush to get it done and I didn't have the right equipment. So I mean to have a bit more focus today.

I also have an old and faded top in the dye pot right now. It is about fifteen years old so there is every liklihood that it might fall apart in the process, but I haven't worn it in ages as its original scarlet had faded to a sad burgundy. So this will either give it a new lease of life and it will pull its weight in the wardrobe once more or it will kill it stone dead and free up a hanger. Pragmatism...I haz it.

Scattergories

"SCATTERGORIES" ...It's harder than it looks! Copy and paste into your blog and try it!
**Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following --they have to be real places, names, things ...nothing made up! You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

What is your name... Sian
4 Letter word... Snow (c'mon you didn't really think I'd put something else did you?)
Vehicle... Sled
City... Sheffield
Boy Name... Sirius
Girl Name... Sheherezade
Alcoholic Drink... Southern Comfort
Occupation... Surgeon
Something you wear... Stockings
Celebrity... Sophia Loren
Food... Spagetti
Something found in a bathroom... Sink
Reason for being late... Sick
Cartoon Character... Snoopy
Something you shout... Shazbat! (Mork and Mindy anyone?)
Animal... Salamander
Body part...Skin
Word to describe you... Sassy

Thanks Greg. If anyone wants to have a go at this, let me know so I can come and see your answers.

Limerick - Time

A limerick on time... not easy at all so I tried being a smart donkey* and came up with this.

Parsley sage rosemary and thyme,
gently sung, make a recipe fine,
but due to the stress
instead we possess
nasty rage because we've no time.

Talk about awkward. Did anyone spot the Simon and Garfunkel thing going on? I found this prompt very, very difficult. So for better examples, check out Mad Kane's Prompts here.

On other news: There is no more dancing for me for some time. My foot is absolutely stuffed for anything and it is very annoying. The ache is constant and I think it is that which is bringing me down. I can't spin because it aggravates the tendon so you can imagine what walking does to it and it is amazing to me how many times I go up and down stairs each day. One of those things you don't notice until it becomes an inconvenience.Oh and Rose woke me up last night with a nightmare about her school problems. So that is another thing that needs to be addressed and sharpish. I figure when a kid starts having nightmares about school the problem is only escalating. ^%$*&")* school! And I don't know what to do...

Coffee and painkillers for me I think and it has to be knitting and a good calming CD on pronto.
Hope you guys have a wonderful day. Go and dance for me will you?

*C'mon, you know what I am talking about.

Project Spectrum - Fire

Flame nebula (but I have seen batts of wool like that)

It is the third year that Project Spectrum has been running and somehow it has caught my imagination rather better than in previous years. That may be due to the fact that the theme this month is Fire and uses some of my favourite colours.


The idea is to inspire the use of colour on themed lines and is open to any artistic endeavor. You can link (or not, I probably won't) join their Flickr group or join in on Ravelry. Forums don't really work for me but the projects on display are very beautiful. I remain a bit squiffy about the use of colour and design is not my talent, though I can recognise good design, I just don't manage it very often.
Anyway, if you are into art, craft or just potching about in colour and fancy a jumping off point then this site might interest you.

One Deep Breath - Ink

Scratch across the page, sink into a wound. Staining flesh or fibre, indelible, inert - the bullet in the gun is as innocent as you. Pure dark fluid and a cool blank page. What will you be used to say? Potential in the jar to write sonnets or stick men -
to capture stilled hearts
breathless with whirling desire
or to say farewell

And you are not the message, just the means, the conduit. So much weight for one small dark vein to carry across the arcing space of paper or the unmarred skin.
Today a laundry list, tomorrow, who knows?


Apparently, this is the last ever One Deep Breath and I am sorry about that. Off and on I've been doing these prompts for over a year. I reckon I will just start recyling the prompts that have been posted each week until I find a new haiku spot...

Sunday Scribblings - Passion

I am bobbing on another stream of insomnia. House MD is uploading on another window. And so my poor brain turns to the Sunday Scribblings prompt. I believe that I did this last week, bizarrely enough, writing about sleep when sleep was yet hours away. Even more ironic to write about passion when I am feeling as passionate as an old teabag.

I think the previous two posts cover quite a bit of ground on the old passion stakes. The fact that a building moved me to tears is fairly indicative of my love of art and architecture. The fact that I am nuts about spinning is apparent to all who know me. But I don't really want to focus on spinning right now.

Passion is a wonderful word - a Cathy and Heathcliffe word - but really in essence it means emotion. Passion being the opposite of rationality. Hmmmn. Passion, emotion: the soft underbelly, the vulnerability of the human - particularly the artistic types - the writers, the artists, the musicians, the visionaries of all kinds.
It deserves a poem really doesn't it? And a damned good one too. I shall have a think...

And late Sunday morning here it is:

Song
by Ted Hughes

O lady, when the tipped cup of the moon blessed you
You became soft fire with a cloud's grace;
The difficult stars swam for eyes in your face;
You stood, and your shadow was my place:
You turned, your shadow turned to ice
O my lady.

O lady, when the sea caressed you
You were a marble of foam, but dumb.
When will the stone open its tomb?
When will the waves give over their foam?
You will not die, nor come home,
O my lady.

O lady, when the wind kissed you
You made him music for you were a shaped shell.
I follow the waters and the wind still
Since my heart heard it and all to pieces fell
Which your lovers stole, meaning ill,
O my lady.

O lady, consider when I shall have lost you
The moon's full hands, scattering waste,
The sea's hands, dark from the world's breast,
The world's decay where the wind's hands have passed,
And my head, worn out with love, at rest
In my hands, and my hands full of dust,
O my lady.

Jewels and Eden

I so love the internet: it is coming up on midnight and I have just bought half a pound of fibre from half way round the world. How? The fell word for craft addicts across the 'verse - Etsy. Etsy is fun and a great way to kill an hour but I have never seen anything that has made me want to part with my cash when I have Winghams only up the M6 (Okay, it's in Yorkshire but still a heck of a lot closer than pond hopping innit?) But They Told Me Sew was just too much. I was boasting to V only the other day that I have not bought any wool or spinning stuff so far this year (okay, I have bought dye, silk and silk paints, but hey they are not my number one habit so they barely count eh?)

But, honestly, look at these and then tell me that you wouldn't have bought them too...

Superwash Merino and tencel so it should be super silky and oh deary me look at the colours! Jewel is top and Eden is bottom and I can't wait 'til they are here. They are coming from South Dakota, where ever that might be, sounds very injun country to me but really all I care about right now is how good the pony express is out there. It can't take more than a month can it?

Canterbury Cathedral

the nave

The city itself was much like any other city: lots of people, pretty shops, a park and ride which the kids loved - the front of a double decker bus is a lot of fun at any time of life but particularly when you are four I guess.
The streets leading toward the cathedral were cobbled and the buildings were close together and timbered black on white plaster. Others were red brick or flint dressed - there were very few examples of the horrifically utilitarian government architecture that is so apparent in South Wales. The air smelled of coffee because of the massive Starbucks that was in the Mercer Square. It was a place to sit and absorb the history, the millions of people over the years. I was fairly twanging with it as we walked through the huge, carved doors of the cathedral gates.

Let me explain myself here. I love Chaucer, even though I haven't read much - that is down to laziness on my part. I love the sense of history. I love the stories that surround this place "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?" The terrible murder in a holy place, the humbling of a king by the might of Rome. It is rich stuff for me and seven hundred years or so peel back easily in my imagination.

We walked into the courtyard and saw the carvings on the huge walls, Anselm, Benedict, Francis. The huge doors, the sheer size of the building. We went in and I could not speak. I will utterly fail to convey to you how awesome this place is. The sweeping arches, the thunderous columns upholding the structure. The stained glass,the lace-like stone, the acoustics, the centuries of song, praise and worship that the stones have soaked up. The artistry and devotion that generations of craftsmen have poured into the place. We saw the funeral garments of the Black Prince, the premiere warrior of his day, unbeatable in the field. And of course we saw the spot where Thomas Becket was martyred. Not a huge fan of St Thomas I have to say, he was a political animal after all and it was a political murder, but what gets me is the pilgrimage site, the feet of the faithful, the penitent, the thankful and the supplicant. The stories...the stories. I wished I could hear them all.

I eventually managed to pull myself together and wandered into the quire, a church within a church. The feeling of inner space was incredible. Compared to the nave you see, the quire is almost intimate but in reality it is still a huge space. The sound amplification is astonishing. Lily called for me and Mama went reverberating effortlessly round the arches.

I wish I could explain the effect that the cathedral had on me rather better than I have. V watched me tear up as we stood awed in the nave. The children were also rather puzzled and I could not explain why. A lifetime's desire to be here, the presence of beauty, the silent breath of history in the fabric around us. I loved it there, really I did.

Home Again

Safe and sound. Well, almost. I have managed to wrench a tendon in my foot and its up like a balloon. I can just about get my most forgiving boot on at the moment, even slippers are out. So meargh to me for being so daft to think that I can dance like a looney, twice a day, when I usually only indulge once a week barring occasional jigs in the kitchen with the girls...

Anyway. Ashburnham was good by and large but we didn't get to go into Battle after all as there was an ipromptu teaching session that V wanted to attend and after hearing from Cyril that it was just a field, I wondered as to how I would feel about it all anyway. So we gave it a miss. We drove through the village though on the way out and it looked very interesting. I will definately go there next year, I think that will mean skiving off and having a good poke around all on my own.

Canterbury was awesome. Not a word I usually apply to many things, but honestly, it was awesome. It needs a post all to itself but (and I realise that this could just be me) I had the same reaction when I looked out over the domes of Florence from above the city on a golden evening many years ago. It was a lifetime moment and I am so glad I can say I have been there.
More tomorrow, with some pics.
Nos da cariad, sleep well.

Ashburnham - a few pics

I can imagine Mr Darcy swooping over this bridge in his barouche.

Capability Brown was fond of the odd water feature...

This is a distant view of the stables.
I guess their horses were v high maintenance.

The family church.
We don't have our meetings in there,
we have them in the main house

The main house.
This was once three stories high all along,
but dry rot and death duties brought it low.

More pics tomorrow as we are off to Battle*.
"You may take our lives but you'll never take our freedom!"

Um, wrong I think you'll find...



* I know, I know, wrong battle, but Conquerer Bill (aka William the Bastard**) must be a bit unglamourous really 'cos Hollywood has ignored him completely.
** 'Strue, honest!

Sunday Scribblings - Sleep

Sleep is wonderful. I love dreaming, especially the ones where I fly. Sleep gives us the chance to sort out all the hectic thoughts that we don't have the time or the inclination to address when we are awake. It heals, it fills us. I fall into sleep with relief.

And getting into bed, lying down, feeling the soft cotton and the gentle hold of the duvet around me, pillows giving just enough under the weight of my head.
Staring up at the stars or the moon when it sails past my window. In summer, with the window open, listening to the waterfall or the distant hum of a car as someone makes the solitary journey up the valley. Falling into the darkness to the familiar sound of the house around me muttering to itself, tinking pipes, the creak of the bunk when Rose turns over in her sleep, the clack of the catflap as Zac goes off to, or returns from, a midnight adventure. I wonder where he goes, what paths he finds in his cat world, wide open to his night vision. The scents he finds, what it is like to push through bramble and fern towering above his head. A beast of prey on his mountain.
Before I know it I am asleep.

I wish sometimes I could savour the pleasure of falling asleep for longer than I do. To enjoy tipping over the brink in the same way as sinking into a deep, warm bath or melting chocolate on my tongue.
I wish sometimes that I could stay asleep. I miss sleeping and I hate the sucking dryness of my energy levels after a bout of insomnia. How poisoned it feels to know that the time I should have spent usefully topping up my body's store of strength instead has been given over to thoughts and worries that serve little purpose.
Sometimes however, the extra time is useful. I spin, write, imagine my other lives that I could have led. I pray sometimes, for those who also cannot sleep but for more serious reasons that habitual insomnia. I think how blessed I am. I watch my daughters sleep, like pearls in oysters, still and perfect. I watch them breathe, mutter, stretch and sink back once more. Rose laughs and I wonder what she is dreaming of.
I wander downstairs, make a cup of tea, snuggle up in a blanket and stare once more out at the stars. If I am lucky and I close the laptop soon I will get back to sleep tonight.
Funny that, writing about sleep when finding it is an ongoing struggle for me.
Nos da cariad, I hope you are sleeping well and are held in gentle dreams.

Oh and by the way...

I have been aware for sometime that my music listening habits are stuck in a timewarp. I need to investigate some good new bands. Not necessarily brand new stuff but considering that the last album I bought was Nick Drake...See what I mean?

My dear nephew Cyril tried to drag his old Auntie into the 21st century with a complilation CD but I didn't get it. Who are the Snow Monkeys anyway? And is it me or are the Kaiser Chiefs just Madness in new suits?
So do me a favour and recommend something that is accessible for a folky old fart, I am getting tired of Enya.

Today's Walk - Ogmore Castle

thatched cottage

swans on the Ogmore River

View from a castle window

the gate house

Castles are a fantastic place to play hide and seek, the girls really enjoyed despite it being biting cold. The wind was coming straight off the sea and our hands were aching with it by the end. We saw our first lambs of the season, poor wobbly little things, probably wondering what the heck kind of place they had been born into. I took a photo but they really are just blurry white pinpricks on a fuzz of hill so not much point posting them. They were lovely to see though and their bleating were the strident call of the changing season.
Off to The Pelican then for lunch: braised partridge for me with potato and leek gallettes and poached salmon with shredded spring vegetables for V. Rose had about a tonne of garlic bread and cheese while Eden and Lily gorged themselves on thick fluffy chips.
Times like these makes us realise how lucky we are with V's work. Two hours on a Friday, leaves us plenty of time for fun trips like today.

Hope you had a great day too.

Little by little

Hedgewizard finds the most fun things.



If you are either
(a) at all interested in helping in a small way
(b) interested in improving your vocabulary
or
(c) a pedantic lit snob who just wants to see how smart you really are :) little me?

then check this out.

It whiles away ten minutes if you have them spare and you'll be doing some good - I am fast on my way to getting seriously addicted to it.

Happy Valentine's Day

Easily the cheesiest sappiest sugarfest song in the entire 'verse. It is my absolute favourite love song ever, but this is the only time I will admit that in public and only in honour of St Valentine.



Today is also my darling V's birthday and in honour of my own St Val, here is something a little bit more in our style. (You can take a girl out of the Eighties, but you can't take the Eighties out of the girl...)

Another favourite

I like sad songs, what can I say?

Result

setting up

soaking the yarn

drying over the bath

I was a bit iffy about how this was going to turn out. I put the yarn in the dye and while the silk went violet immediately, the camel just said yeah, so? (see pic with red spatula) - I was prodding it forlornly at this point as if poking the stuff with a bit of plastic ould make it more permeable somehow. 'Ah nuts' I thought. 'Pod was right and I've ruined hours of work'. But I kept ploughing on, heating gently, simmering for twenty minutes then leaving it cool. Meanwhile, to stop me prinking, I cleaned the oven, washed down the cabinets and sorted out the hall - the things I will do to stop myself from fussing over a project. Yes, for me, housework is a displacement activity.
Ah well, it turned out fine in the end. There is a funkier stripe to it than I thought it would be. The silk is a deep bluebell colour while the camel has turned a dark pansy purple. I think it will work up well, if a little busier than I pictured. The wool that I used to tie the skien has gone a most delicious shade of violet - I think I will have a go with some falkland I have lurking in the stash.
Just as an aside, it smelt terrible while the stuff was simmering. I don't know if that was the yarn, the vinegar or the dye or what but I hope it doesn't stick around on the yarn or else my shrug is not going to be a popular wear.

Today is a good day to dye

Oops, wrong obsession.*
I've got the dyepot, the vinegar, the yarn...oh yes and the dye. Now all I need is the nerve.
Pics soon. Wish me luck!**



*Yes, I was once a trekkie - We went to conventions and everything
**Or K'pla! if you want to be sad :)

Pretty

Camel down and tussah silk. I haven't set the spin yet and I am in two minds as to whether I should dye it. I mean, I probably will because fawn is not my colour and I want to make a shrug for myself out of it. On the other hand I don't want to spoil it and as I am almost a complete novice at dying there is ample opportunity for me to foul it up.
I am super chuffed with the ply on it too. I am not very good at plying generally, as I am usually in too much of a hurry to finish the yarn, stupid of me I know. But I concentrated hard and it took me ages, maybe an hour and a half.
So I'm off to get some white vinegar today (as well as the usual groceries) and maybe tomorrow I will have a go at getting it in the dyepot. Which reminds me, I need to get a dyepot too (a big saucepan that is all).

On other news, it is half term and Rose has managed to go down with tonsilitis of all things so she is floppy and wan, mooching about the place. Eden has a particularly juicy cough but is quite happy as usual. Lily is fine - the tiniest of the three and tough as boot leather.

Well, sitting here typing butters no eggs. It is a beautiful day outside. I wonder what I am going to do with it?
Hope you have a bright sunshiny day too.

Sunday lunch

Traditional roasts don't go down well with my lot :( but sometimes I can sneak a vegetable into them by stealth...This is tasty and pretty easy on the pennys too.

peppers, mushrooms, chorizo, onions

sausages, chop 'em up and sling 'em in the pot

add a small glass of port, a pinch of salt, some pepper, some smoked paprika, a little vegetable stock and a can of puy lentils.
Pop in the oven 180 C for a few hours.

serve with mashed potatoes, spring greens and lashings of butter.
We had tinned peaches and ice cream for pud. I didn't need to eat for the rest of the day.

Insomniaaaargh!

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Genius Mathematician. Where You Lived: Scotland. How You Died: Hung for treason.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

Molly's Coat

Molly, the canine Kate Moss
(all legs, bones and psycho eyes)

No I haven't been keeping the dog under wraps. We still just have Zac. This is Birdie's much loved mutt, who gets a bit chilly in the nippy Spring breezes that we are getting right now.
Lets face it, a greyhound is mostly skin and bone anyway and they don't have much hair to keep them warm either. This is why I prefer cats. Zac hasn't moved from the sofa all day except for breakfast, tea and supper - sensible boy that he is. That said he does not have a handsome, handmade merino wool felt jacket either...

I have a fur my dear, I don't need wool

A Perfect Day

Yesterday, after nursery, we troddled off down to Bracelet Bay. We stopped in Dick Bartons on the way to pick up fish and chips and wolfed them down - hot, salty and tingley with vinegar - don't have chips that often so they were a treat.
Eden and Lily stared at the sea with the same fascination one usually reserves for tigers. They preferred the rock pools and really, so do I. We played on the sand and paddled a little bit then called into Joes for ice cream on the way home.
It wasn't as cold as it looks here and it was mostly sunny too, it's just I loved the silver light on the sea when the sun went behind that massive cloud.

Today is still untouched. There is a birthday party to go to and Wales is playing Scotland today. All this I will miss as I am in work this afternoon. Better get cracking.

Hope you have a perfect day too.

Mrs Doyle

For the future Mrs Doyle...
Congrats!

More Photos of Our Walk...

It is grey here this morning and quite cold. So I think a nice trip to Starbucks and maybe a quick foray into Claires to pick up some sparklies to cheer this old magpie up. Then back home to laundry and spinning up the last of the silk before off to work. Busy, busy, busy.

Have a sweet and shiny day.

Today's Walk

The most beautiful Spring day today. So after nursery Lily, Eden and myself went to the park. Oh gosh, how lovely it was to get out after all that freaking rain! And I was so glad I remembered both the camera and the batteries this time.

Dried Lavender

Spikes of fragrance yield
Their thin velvet sweetness.
All day,
The scent clings to my fingers.
Faded but lovely -
like a memory.

Picture credit: Happy Valley Lavender

Mardi Grass

Festival, Carnival, Fat Tuesday, Quick we've gotta fast, lets use up all the eggs. How on earth did that get about? No fun for the next forty days so quick lets cram it all into today.

So, lets kick today off with a giggle shall we? I liked this one, silly, but there we are...

Rhys: Doctor, I can’t stop singing the Green, Green Grass of Home.

Doctor: That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome.

Rhys: Is it common?

Doctor: It’s not unusual.

Ba doom boom!
For more terrible Welsh Jokes click just b'there.

Just for Fun

Can't spin to this but it is lovely to dance to. I would like to dedicate this one to my friends who prayed for me when I was so lost in misery that I could not pray for myself: Dizzy, Steph and Pippa in particular. And to V who is there to catch me when I fall, to fight for me when I am weary and who loves me when I am deeply unloveable.

On the Wheel Today

Tussah silk tops...

Make super glossy yarn!

I have spun space dyed tussah silk before and the dye always makes the fibre stiff and a bit sticky. It is fine when it is spun up and washed but, oh, it is a real pleasure to spin silk as soft and slinky as this.
I was treadling away in work today* and a chap asked me what I enjoyed about spinning as it looked very monotonous to him. So I picked up a snippet of the silk top and handed it to him. He held it and said "Oh!" in surprise, then he fanned it out in his hand "Oh yes, he said. "That is special isn't it?"
"Yup"
Sometimes you just need to let the fibre do the talking...

This is set to be plied up with the camel down and then dyed. I am desperate to get into the dying pot so I will be aiming to get this lot spun up in the next evening or two. Nothing like a hunger for the end result to get a bit of focus in the project!

*it has become a matter of course now to take my wheel into the YMCA and everyone seems to take it as the usual eccentricity one can expect from the Hills.

Oh and Wales won !!!! *Does happy dance* Da Iawn Boys! Sing it Daisy, Cyril and V - All together now "Wa-les, Wa-les!"