30.11.09

The house is mine, the boys are either at work or at school.
The cats are sleeping by the fire.
The dog is dreaming in her basket.
The washing machine is on, as is the radio.....
time for a cup of tea and a low calorie - in fact a no-calorie bun.
Hmmmm, low fat - no-fat,
no sugar.
yum yum......

I have been having fun with my felt.

Don't let it's cunning disguise as a chocolate bun with strawberry icing and sprinkles fool you (as if you were fooled in the first place)
This little bun is actually going to be a pin cushion.

I've also been having fun creating these,
there isn't enough free time during the day to play,
I mean craft.
Shame I have to go back to work later......................

27.11.09

It has been a long day at work, busy and very long.
Each hour stretched out to it's maximum length, and still they came.
The bell became more insistent and the 'phone more demanding.
The patients were almost as bad, not all of them,
some are a pleasure to see,
a cheery face, a kind comment, a joke and most welcome of all
 - a thank you.
Others - demanding, abrupt and often just plain grumpy.

But was all made right when I got home.

My boys were there and so was this...................

I had ordered a pile of felt squares from Lupin at Bugs and Fishes ,
and was delighted at how quickly they arrived.
 Now I have this delicious pile of felt - I had to start crafting

So I did.........

28.11.09


After all the weeks of rain, homework and house alterations - we finally managed a walk today.

But, only after the chimney sweep had given us the all clear.
Only after we had cleared up after a chimney fire.
Not a big one, and not life threatening
- but enough of a fire to frighten me.

Our walk was like cleansing the soul.

The smell of the damp countryside.

Jumping puddles.

Meandering down farm lanes.

Tree edged horizons.

Tups and ewes.

Horses in winter coats.

 The moss growing on ancient Hawthorn trees - my namesake

My boys,

the view,

a wintery sky,

muddy tracks,

rosy cheeks,

cold fingers,

stiles and farm gates.

Wonderful.

****************************************

I think I am now ready

to face a new week

and all the challenges that come my way

- bring it on!

25.11.09

It would be fair to say that we have been having a bit of rain.

Quite a bit of rain.

In fact, quite a lot of rain.

Floods worth of water.

Puddles on the lane, over the hill tops to school, imitate raging fords.

Streams run fast and muddy.

Wipers are on full when we are driving.

Drains are so full that they spout water.

Farm walls ooze water.

Trees drip water.

Water.

Reservoirs, a few short weeks ago were empty, now force water out through leets and races.

In places the banks have burst to drown fields and force sheep on to higher ground.

On the whole, where we live we have got off lightly, further north both lives and homes have been lost.

And, for a brief moment, today, just before collecting the boys from school - this happened.

25.11.09

Mini forestation continues and now the decorating starts.

Shiny things - shiny shiny.

This time of the year brings out the magpie in me.

All the little card trees have been given stars and the crocheted trees have sprouted flowers.

The trees done during cubs last night were dosed in generous quantities of glitter,

as was the floor,

the table surface,

the kitchen counters,

my face and fingers.

*************

Work has been getting busier - time served dispensers say it's the 'Pre-Christmas-Rush'.

All the old dears come in with urgent expressions on their faces, thrusting their medicine requests at us, all the while reminding us fervently that they need them 'before-we-close'.

Others come in with double orders - just in case - no, they are not going on holiday, they just want to make sure they have it all ready 'before-we-close'

Some come in with an extra 'just-in-case' request for (you know) 'when-we-close'.

Because you never know, they might run out 'while-we-are-closed'.

And - this closure - how long do we shut?

2 days.

That is TWO days.

sigh.

Back to shiny things......................

aaaah - that's better.

22.11..09

There is a mini forest of festive firs sprouting around our house.

It started with one - more of an exercise of entertainment for me,

but that was adopted by youngest

who promptly crocheted it some decorations.

I did another - for me you understand -

only to have work ask for some for December.

So,  two more were made.

Paper ones are now also being made - templates for cubs

(have to try them out of course - to make sure they work)

and green card ones for work

(still on the quest of completing festive decorations).

Youngest has been making them too,

so we are almost completely forested out!

I have only just recovered from the crocheted pumpkin population

that invaded us just a few short weeks  ago.

Still, its great fun, creating and crafting something completely useless

just for the sheer enjoyment of it all.

21.11.09

We are cat-sitting again this weekend and our most direct route is up the tram lines.
They have some form of heritage status and as such are protected.

Sadly many dog walkers see the tram lines for another more perfunctory reason - to relieve their dogs.......

The first trams came into our village on June 24th 1904 and the local children came out of school early to be allowed a free ride, an extract from the school's register read  'Buns and coffee will be given on their return'.

On June 3rd 1928 - only 24 years later, the last tram ran into the village.

The lines remained idle until the rails were lifted around 1942 for the war effort. Ironically, most of the iron lifted in Britain was dumped into the sea as it was found to be unusable. A small stretch of rails remains and the old tram terminus is now used for the local bus service turning circle.

Our village has a lot of hidden history, but many people sadly just pass it by without even seeing never mind knowing anything about it.

Winter flowering cherry - an unexpected find on our walk.

At the end of season, when most flowers have faded, this one appears and the sense of promise is overwhelming.

18.11.09

Today eldest came out of Granny and Bumpa's flat with a hand full of brazil nuts.

'Emma....here Emma' he called.

From somewhere in the trees, a female grey squirrel came silently bounding towards him.
She scamped up and along the railings to his waiting hand.
A slight hesitation as she weighed him up with a bright brown eye.

A split second later she  rested a clawed furry paw on his hand briefly as she snatched up two nuts.

A quick chew of one, the other safely hidden in her cheek, then she skipped back down towards the trees.

She stopped - turned to Granny's garden and a moment later she was in the flower pots - only her resplendent tail visible as she buried the brazil nuts in the winter flowering pansies.

The grin on the eldest's face said it all - he was delighted.

Granny on the other hand just sighed - she would check her winter flowering pansies later.

17.11.09

It's that time of year.

Still November, not quite December.

Shops are putting up their decorations.

Councils have been hanging their festive street lights for weeks now.

The village Christmas tree is up and already lit.

And I am organising our annual 'festival-wreath-thingy'.

We get together in the second weekend of December and take over the village hall.

Ladies sweep in, bedecked in foliage, trailing ribbons, dropping baubles.

Quickly they claim their tables, set up their precious treasures collected and kept.

There is always a slow start, the kettle boiled, old friendships re-kindled.

For some of our group only see each other on this day.

Gossip swapped, stories told, chocolates eaten.

The usual complaints of the choice of music made - I am used to that.

Then suddenly - as if a silent command is given, we all start making the wreathes, garlands and table decorations.

Scissors lost, ribbons tied, gold and silver spray applied.

Foliage woven in,

glitter sprinkled,

glue guns splotting.

Tea consumed.

Stop for lunch.

More talking,

more catching up,

baby photos shown.

Wash up from lunch.

The pace quickens now,

the second half of the day seems to rush by.

Frantic finishing,

sweeping and cleaning.

Bags of foliage not used dragged back out again.

Ladies leaving triumphantly bearing their efforts of the day.

Satisfied and tired

but a good tired.

Suddenly all around the village, wreaths appear on doors, garlands over porches and stars in windows.

I love this companionship and sharing and making we do - it binds us with a gentle friendship that can be called on at all times.

16.11.09

The weather people promised a day of rain, lots of it, followed by wind, lots of that too....
.
Try telling the animals that it's not that nice outside.

I have spent my morning letting in the cats....
letting them out....
letting them in.....
letting them out......

How can they - the cats - have such loud stares?
I can feel their greeny-yellow eyes boring into my back as I type this.

Has any one else noticed how quickly they forget it was they who asked to go out, not me who pushed them out?

They speak very clearly with a look,
with a flick of an ear,
a twitch of a tail,
a slight frown.

But giddy dog?
She goes out, gets wet, looks pathetic, gets let back in, is so grateful and bares no grudge.

Cats don't say thank you - they only say 'NOW'.

They have trained me well.

15.11.09

What to do?

The eldest is submerged, nay drowning in his homework, himself is rebuilding the bathroom and youngest?
Well youngest needs entertaining.

So we headed for the kitchen to see what supplies we had and what we could make.

Below for your ocular delights, are the results of his efforts.

Eldest and himself thought them fine and ate several.

gingerbread teds and gingerbread men

Kneading and rolling (by eldest who just could not stay away)

more finishing touches

Please note the several different versions - including a hammer head version, a cyclops and some with no eyes at all!

They all tasted good though.

A larch in autumnal colours in front of a stormy sky

14.11.09

20 years ago, I took a phone call from the RSPCA* saying .... 'that stray cat we picked up - we've no space for her - she will have to be put down'......


I walked through to the back of the surgery to tell the veterinary that the cat in the kennels was a PTS**.
Part of my job - sad part, but part all along.

There was no one available to take the message so I went into the kennels to leave a tag on the stray cat's cage -
'This animal is to be PTS'

And there, in the cage was an RTA*** cat, curled up with a battered and bloodied face.
She looked up at me............and purred.

I took her home.

20 years later, she still lives with us.
But now she is elderly and falls asleep anywhere and at any time.
She has become dotty - my youngest says she has ....Feline dementia.....
She is much loved, and I carefully drop gentle hints to the boys that she is nearing the end of her life, but I think the hints are as much for me as they are for her.

I have had my cat longer that I have had my boys - even with their ages put together, it will be hard saying goodbye.

*RSPCA = Royal Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
**PTS = Put to sleep (humane distruction)
***RTA = Road Traffic Accident

13.11.09
Look, LOOK!   the eldest had called out - we were on holiday and he was much, much  younger.
We turned to follow his pointed finger
to the stream's edge.

It had been a stifling warm summer
and we were walking along a wooded stream
edged by sheer craggy cliffs
and forgotten castles.

There - look eldest repeated.
And there, lying in the shallows,
was a carved piece of stone
from some forgotten building.

Once retrieved, we wondered why no one had noticed it before....
and decided that the hot dry summer had reduced the normally flowing river to a sedate and almost empty stream.

The stone now rests in our garden, gently aging under moss

rather than under water.

What stories it could tell.

Of battles raging between the Scots and the English.

Of Border Reivers    link

Of rich and poor

Of neglect and decay.

Often I lay my hand on the now worn capital stone and wonder what it saw.

11.11.09

After yesterday's fondling of Orcadian wools,
I am still wondering what to do with them.

So,
living up to my butterfly-mind reputation for flitting from project to project,
I started to wind yarns,
cool silvery, dreamy, inspirational yarns.

I find wool winding always jolts my crafting mojo back into life.

It worked!

I reached for the brightest green cotton yarn I could find and I've started crafting for Yule.

Welcome back mojo.

10.11.09

I opened Jonathon Joe (link) today -
For, there silently waiting for me,
were the wools
that I'd been given by him
whilst on holiday in the Orkneys.

They had been gently calling to me
for a while now,
but they had to wait,
as other louder and more
insistent projects needed to be completed.

Now it is their turn.
I carefully lifted each one,
squeezed them gently,
took in their lanolin scent.

Staring at the yarns,
I wonder how best to use them.

All the while I can see the places they came from.

I hope I can do them justice.

09.11.09

Has any one noticed that Nature does it best?

She knows exactly what the perfect finishing touches are.

No gilding of the lily for her.

Today Nature has lightly frosted my garden - beautifully.

A delicate etching of frost on a plank of wood

A light dusting of ice crystals on a fern frond

A picot edging to an ivy leaf

A coat of frost on the last of the summer's Red Campion

A hirsute leaf catching the sun, each tiny hair covered in ice

A crusty coating on the compost bin

And all the while I was marveling at the detail and filigree work

I was being watched

I was being scrutinised

Time to go in, my feet are cold and my mug of tea is calling.

08.11.09
On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month
we mark the signing of the Armistice to signal the end of World War One.


For at 11am on the 11th of November in 1918,
the guns of the Western Front were silent after
more than four years of continual battle.

So, this Sunday, the nearest to the 11th November,
we stopped,
we fell silent,
we gave thanks for life,
for lives lost,
for lives saved,
for those yet to go into battle,
for those who will never return,
for those left behind.

Flags were lowered,
the Last Post then Reveille were played,
Wreathes were laid,
prayers were said.

The Ode of Remembrance was recited...............

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them."

06.11.09

Despite the threats of fireworks and bonfires,

it was more of a damp whimper than a bang

But I didn't care,

I sat on the floor surrounded by yarns and friends

and we' knattered'

we 'knittered'

we crocheted

and we were just....

us.

Today, after a stern talking to myself

About the state of my 'WIP'* drawer

I opened it with trepidation

I opened it slowly

for the contents tend to spring out joyfully

And

instead of tidying the said "WIP" drawer

I toyed with the colours

I painted with yarn

I colour coded and

I

Played.

It felt good.

* WIP = Work In Progress - I have a fair bit of WIP

This it is necessary - despite what he says

I need variety in my life.

05.11.09

I find that if you have to pay for something,
you tend to keep it well.
But if you are handed things on a plate without much effort on your part,
then it is of very little consequence to you.

40 million pounds worth (that is US $66.16800) of medication is thrown away yearly here in the UK.

THAT IS 40 MILLION POUNDS...................

Approximately 609 tonnes (609,000 kg or 1342 615, 18 lbs) is incinerated per annum.

And it is increasing year on year -

That money - could it be spent else where?

Schools? Hospitals?

Those tablets - were they actually needed?

What? All of them?

Only to be thrown away?

On a lighter note - I am still on the tea and toast - for medicinal reasons only of course.

And tonight is 'knit n knatter'

We meet, we chat, we knit, we crochet, we sew and we eat cake

and I love it!

Such a hotch potch of souls

Grannies

Aunties

Divorcees

Mothers

Friends

Us

04.11.09

We, as a household,

are at various stages of some form of sniffles

Eldest is passed the worst and feeling chipper

He is giving no sympathy to his fellow sufferers

Youngest and I have just started

We feel like we shouldn't be made to go to school/work.....

And himself has manfully dragged himself through the week, very bravely.

Why is it the weather has joined in too?

Where is that warm sunshine when you need it?

So - I have resorted to some serious comfort food - tea and toast

Can't get more serious than that!