Sounds

I'm on my own this morning.
For all the right reasons - boys at school and Himself at work.
Subsequently the house is quieter than it's usual family filled reverberations but it is far from silent.

The radio quietly sings to the kitchen.

Although we live in a fairly rural village, our road is often used as a short cut between the larger towns so there is a regular sound of a car rumbling through. When we first came to see the house before we bought it, I hesitated due to the closeness of the road to the front of the building. I had worried unnecessarily.

Inside, the road outside is a non invasive sound that only occasionally catches my attention. The house creaks and stretches as the pipes warm up. I have lit the fire. I tried to resist the urge for that comforting feel - it seems excessive to light the fire for just me. Then, two wet little faces appeared at the door and as I let them in, bells chinking and fur dripping, I relented. The fire, now crackling and flickering is accompanied by the sound of purring cats as they lick down their rain-spiked fur.

I can hear (and see) the trees sway in the breeze, their leaves have lost their summer deep green and are showing hints of autumn. The sound ebbs and flows. Lily's bell chinks again, she is changing seats. She often tries out several resting places before choosing her final nap spot. Pan, now licked down and almost dry (she must have tongue fatigue) has fallen asleep with her head resting on the hearth. Her ear tips glowing in the reflected light from the fire. I can just about catch a small cat-snore but it is almost inaudible.  

I can hear - quite loudly in fact - my knitting. I have to confess that I have been playing the field with my yarn. I had started my shawlette and it had been flying off the needles until I reached the lace pattern. After a fair bit of confuddlement and looking up of the knitting abbreviations, I managed to get going again until right to the end when I had three stitches left over... b****r.

I had counted the stitches before launching myself into the unknown abyss of lace knitting and had the correct number, so I concluded crossly with myself that I had obviously followed the pattern wrongly.

Carefully I frogged (stitch at a time) the entire row, re-counted just in case I had been wrong, then reading and re-reading the pattern and convinced myself that I could do it, started again.
Re-frogged.
Counted stitches again, placing in the markers as suggested by the pattern.
Started again and was rather startled to find that the pattern does not actually fit in between the 12 markers I had spent ages placing.                                
Frogged again.
I gave the shawlette a severe looking at and put it aside to take to Wednesday's knit and natter.

That was a fatal mistake.

Chatting and drinking tea are not good companions to lace knitting especially seeing all the problems I had had before. So, I put it down. Picked up a new set of needles and more yarn and started a new one.

I plan to go back to the first - but only once I have soothed my jangled knitting nerves with some lovely smooth and simple stockinette stitch.

Ah - I can hear another sound now, my tum - better go and have some breakfast.

Enjoy your Friday - xx

Nothing much really

Words whizz round my head. Lists and must-do's, snippets of conversations from this morning, from last night, from yesterday, from whenever. Discussions with myself of things I must do and things to be done.

A cacophony of constant chatter and thoughts.

I find it difficult to calm and quieten the the words as they fly around, they show no mercy even when I am tired. And I hear them all.

This, on occasion, is a good skill to have, I can multi task at speed, think off the cuff, make it up as I go along, fly by the seat of my pants. At other times it is almost list-overload and some of the words fall out and get lost..........

I have started to practise the art of quietening the perpetual busy-ness going on in my mind. Now and then I have moments of strangely calm silence and it is glorious! But as soon as it happens and I register the stillness - whoops my brain launches itself back into is normal nattering and chattering self.

I must admit to feeling happier than I have been recently. Nothing has changed except me - and I am working on that change.

Now - if you'll excuse me, those lists in my head are actually shouting and I really, really must listen to them this time!!

It is nearly the weekend so here's wishing you a few snatched moments of 'me' time, with your book, your yarn, your garden, yourself - your life x enjoy

Oh and another thing....

I am procrastinating.
If I have to do it, if it needs doing, it remains undone as I am distracted by things frivolous and unimportant.

It is damp and grey outside and I need to get the washing done.... so I light the fire to warm the house and to warm me,  but still avoid collecting up the washing.

Instead I hold the cat, look out of the window, stand by a crackling fire, blog.

If those were on my have-to-do list, I'd probably avoid them too.   Mind you, the cat is in the mood for being held and would just climb up my leg and settle herself on my shoulder regardless of what I was doing.

I am distracted by the thought that this year is almost through and I feel to have achieved very little.

I must check my list but walk determinedly passed it as I know for every one thing I cross off with a flourish, two or three more items need to be added.


So I cheer myself up with the thought of a mug of tea and fondly look at some holiday photos.

Ooh ho! Better already -besides it's Friday today and that means the weekend is almost here! Woo hoo :)

And you?

What's on your list you are actively avoiding?
The housework?
Homework?
Dusting?
Writing a letter or email?
Spill the beans, feel guilty and then go and do it!!
Have a lovely weekend

blessings  hawthorn xxxxxxxx

Isn't she beautiful?






















Who needs false eyelashes with gorgeous ones like these?

She, and the rest of her herd, are white galloways - once on the brink of extinction, now through a few dedicated breeders, are now gaining popularity.

Bovine teddy bears!

Especially love this one, with the half chewed grass hanging from her mouth.

And you?

Today.

I took boys to school.

Drank peppermint tea and had fruit salad for breakfast.

I gardened...

....With the cats as they played and ran around the plants.

Felt the sun on my back - a rare and delicious feeling this year.

Felt a tiny bit melancholy - not sure why or what for.

I got mud on my face and dirt in my hair and it actually felt good to be grubbing around in the earth again, not been able to do that properly for a little while.

Listened to the blackbird complaining in the tree.

Watched my rose buds, willing them to open.

Need to spend more time with my boys.
Listen to them, listen to their stories, listen about what they got up to today.
They are growing up fast and I don't want to lose any time with them.

Feel the need to crochet or knit or anything - bursting to create but lack inspiration and time.

And now?

Sitting at my desk, freshly clean after a welcome shower. With a purring and tired kitten sitting on my lap.

Still to tidy the house before trudging off to work. A mixed blessing.

What are you doing at this moment?
What is keeping you busy?
Who is sitting on your lap?
What are you crafting?

Go on, share, spill the beans:)

Have a terrific Tuesday xxxxxxxxx

Little bit of this, a little bit of that

I keep meaning to stop and say welcome to some new faces, hi to some regulars and hello to any one meandering through.

Jane you asked about the yarn - it is the one I am using for *sshhh you know what* and is Nymph 4ply 'Wisteria'  from my shop - it's working up beautifully for that particular item (and if you are wondering at the secrecy -  I am crafting a birthday pressie for my Mom - for her birthday [obviously] which was about 2 weeks ago.......I am still perfecting the art of the item - I've managed the frogging back part really well so far.....) *sigh*

Lovely Lady - yes finally after a bit of a rocky start, the cats are almost as close as sisters or I suppose more like a mother daughter combo. It is funny to think there is only 6 months between them. I suspect that due to Pan's less than auspicious start, she will remain a small cat especially next to Lily's VAST quantities of fluff!
When she sits down, her fur wafts upwards just like a lady's crinoline skirt - in fact - remember the 1956  'King and I' with Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr? Well, Lily's fur reminds me of Deborah Kerr's dress when she dances.

Hi Jacqueline -I see your sky scarf is growing beautifully, I am still recording the sky colours but must knuckle down and knit some rows - just need to finish my Mom's pressie first!

Hi Amanda  and Miriam Weaver! Welcome, nice to meet a new bloggers :) I am hoping this week to get over and say hi, it's been ages since I last has time to play on the lap top - combination of work, sunshine and the boys homework needs.

Thanks N (colouritgreen) your bwahahaha hit the spot!! Yes, I agree we do have loads of  'you-is-me-and-me-is-you'  similarities :)

My on a rather musical note posting seemed to have a toe-curling response from all of you but much more interestingly I was delighted at how many closet folkies are skulking around out there - woo hoo!

Any hoo, it has been nice chatting but the garden, the cats and the sunshine are all tempting me out so I will have a brief encounter with the vacuum cleaner, hang out the washing then spend some quality time with the weeds before going to work.......well, that's my day sorted!


Oh, before I go, one quick photo from our weekend.......... what do you do with a pack of boys and a thirsty garden on a hot day?  Well fill the pool and let them loose......garden gets watered and boys cool down - win win.

On a rather musical note....

I am rather fond of folk music - yes I can hear some of you out there sniggering or sighing at this unfortunate infliction, but yes, I am rather fond of the Irish lament or the traditional sawing away at the fiddle that gets your feet tapping and your heart singing (well for some of us that is!)

A while ago we used to regularly go to the Dent Folk Festival and see some amazing acts out on a field surrounded by hills and sheep. However latterly we have not been able to go.

With this in mind, last week at work when I was beside myself with the pressure of staff shortages and double shifts, I felt the need for some sort of music therapy so started searching for any bands or festivals. It was a fairly fruitless search to start with, as it is a bit too early for the festival season and bands were either too far away, too expensive, fully booked or not on a day we could go.

Then............ I found something that made me rather excited.

A local folk group were getting together this Friday - yes THIS Friday in a neighbouring town at a pub we used to use in our misspent youth - as ha! Problem solved - or so I thought....... erhum.

I text Himself who seemed fine about it, rang the pub to check that kids could come and through a rather muffled line I could hear an harassed staff member saying that yes kids could come but they would have to keep muffle muffle away from the bar (which is normal) and sit in the muffle waffle room with the waffle muffle band and that muffle muffle 8.30pm - he was obviously busy and I heard just enough of the conversation to confirm that this was what we would be doing this Friday evening. Yay!

To cut a long story short (most of my stories are fairly long and meandering) we arrived at the pub about 15 minutes after starting time - the 8.30pm that was mentioned. The car park was full so we hurried in....to an empty pub.....? We, with our drinks, sat in the lounge part and looked at each other... something wasn't quite right. I was about to open my mouth to speak when right above us, through the ceiling boards came such a stomping and a fiddle sawing we knew that we were in the right place, just on the wrong floor - a quick check with the young barman confirmed that yes indeed we should be upstairs.

We set off and I could see the legs and a guitar case of a folkie disappearing up above us, so followed keenly.

There was a lot of folk upstairs, chatting and clapping and we could hear the sounds of cheering. Aha, a good crowd I thought, however, we had to wait until the folkies at the door moved before we could go in and grab a seat - hopefully we would not be too near the back with being late. I needn't have worried....... oh no..... not at all.

We were ushered in by a cheery bearded chap as he told us to grab a chair and come through.

The room was small. Very~small.

There were chairs all around the outside.

Each with a seated folkie and their respective instruments.

We were put

in

the

middle

surrounded by about 30 people

 we~did~not~know~where~to~look.

I nearly died. The boys shrunk to a quarter of their normal size and stared into their juices. Himself and I, glazed looks on our eyes smiled tightly and we whispered rather too shrilly - ooh this is nice? Isnt it boys, very nice, oh nice, nice oh.

Then the music started.

Each folkie sang, played, fiddled, harped, strummed, piped and drummed around us, one by one we were serenaded with Irish laments, Simon and Garfunkel, jigs and reels, covers and originals as...

we

sat

in

the 

middle

with

about

30 pairs of musical eyes on us....

Nervous grins all round.

After several individual performances the lead folkie sort of made an introduction (for our benefit) who they were and what they did and then.... asked us if we sang.
Err No
Played any musical instruments (a hopeful note in voice)
Umm - not us but the boys play piano and keyboard 
Did we know any folk songs? (desperate note)
Umm - none worth getting excited about and only enough to hum to.

The room went rather silent. Then Eldest dropped his juice onto the floor. gah..... could it get any more embarrassing.

I lept up and ushered Eldest out and nipped downstairs to the bar to beg a cloth to mop the carpet. On returning we were met by one of the women who had been playing the fiddle most beautifully. She chatted about how she'd started and asked about our interest and mentioned that usually it is just them and it was a rarity to have an 'audience' and yes new comers were always put in the middle. She asked about the boys and without the pressure of being scrutinised by all the folkies it was easier to chat to her.  We then went in. Mopped the floor and relaxed a little.

We began to enjoy the music when the lead folkie noticed that Youngest was really enjoying himself by now and got him involved, got him singing and shaking an egg shaped rattly thing. Eldest remained steadfastly hidden behind his fringe.

Himself (after a pint or two) began to sing - he has a beautiful voice but only sings for us and only if pressed. It was, after a rather terrifyingly embarrassing start, a rather good evening and by the time we were able to leave, it was after closing time. We left after many hand shakes and 'lovely to meet yous and come agains' and decided that we had, eventually, have a brilliant evening.

PS - no teenagers were emotionally scared or harmed by embarrassing parents or younger brothers. He was, to our surprise, the first to ask if we could go back - but I think Himself and I need to recover first.


Are we going again? Probably, but will definitely get there much earlier and grab a wall seat!!!

All this divided York and Lancaster..." William Shakespeare, Richard III

What a grey day! Again! I know that we are all 'desperate' for rain and that we are under a hosepipe ban in parts of the country and I know, I know that the ground water is still low and all this rain is very necessary to raise the levels - but I-a-m-h-e-a-r-t-i-l-y-s-i-c-k of the ****** stuff - gah. When I grew up in Africa, rain was seen as a gift......

I have found that my crafting mojo is in a bit of a lull at the moment. Several have done projects languish on my desk. Each one has a fairly plausible excuse for its unfinished state but I feel quite uninspired to actually surmount these rather small blocks. Hmm - note to self - *get on with it!*

On the positive front, our feline family are handling each other's presence so so much better. My mom came up with a brilliant analogy. She calls their hissing and spitting 'The War of the Roses' Which appropriately enough has the red rose of Lancashire warring against the white rose of York for the English throne in the mid to late 1400s.

You may still be wondering at the connection here - so here goes, Lily (red) was born and bred in Lancashire and Pan (predominantly white) was found in a shed in Yorkshire. Brilliant!

But, unlike the war of the roses, our little furry dispute seems to be receding, with only the occasional spat.  I know that food and play is a great leveller and the tastiest treats and the most exciting games soon break down barriers.

knit-lit (chick - lit so so-oo last year) and knitting books

I love love love reading, not that I get much time to do a lot of it, but when I can snatch a few pages it ticks my happy boxes.

At the moment I am absorbed by 'proper' knitting books with grown up subjects such as patterns for socks or fairisle hats.

 I can be spotted with nose in book, hook or needles in hand and studious look on brow.

My knitting pattern book that inspired me to knit my FIRST MITTEN ON DPNs (yes - mitten as opposed to mittenS - am yet to start the next one....might be a problem here - want to try something else!!) (Kristin Knits - playing with colour)

The Knitting School book - with really good descriptions and instructions - ideal for me coz I still don't know my stockinette from my elbow and other bodily related comparisons.

However, I have a guilty pleasure - sshhhhhhh.


I  r-e-a-d  *said in hushed tones* knit-lit (ooh there I've said it).

My fav-sis-in-law and I year ago or so, bought a book each on a whim and really enjoyed it, now at knit and natter we bring and swap knit-lit with each other - it is definitely a guilty pleasure as the husbands raise their eyebrows and sigh in a sort-of-husbandly sort-of-way when we come out clutching books, hooks, wool and yarn and all have silly happy grins on our faces. 

But we don't mind...we don't care coz we are the knit-chicks!

(Mind you, my dear husband occasionally says knit-wits....)

Breathing

Life seems to have sped up suddenly - my post-surgery time off runs out today and Yarnival is next Saturday (only 5 days away - five as in FIVE or if it is any easier to see - 5)  and I don't feel to have completed all that I wanted.

I have been busy yet seem to have achieved little.

Leading up to surgery (over 5 weeks ago) I gleefully rubbed my crochet hooks together thinking about all the enforced crafting time I was going to have to endure (oh yes please) however those precious crafting hours have evaporated and in 4 hours time I will be at work - can you hear the excited anticipation in my voice? - Yeah me too). Any way, enough wallowing in self pity....

Has anyone else noticed those first gorgeous signs of spring? The early warm sun on your back, the crocus and the celandine glowing like little jewels. Fields are filling up with lambs and our hens are producing eggs with such regularity and number that the boys have been forced to take up baking in a grand way - such a shame!

I suspect the blog will be quiet for a few days, need to get ready Yarnival and get my head back around actually being at work. I will be back and have lots of lovely photos from Saturday - I promise!

the saga continues..... and its 4am

Unable to sleep due to my brain not powering down and switching off, I am downstairs - much to the surprise and delight of the catlings who think they can now have 4am firsts (breakfast firsts).

I am always amazed (in a cross sort of way) how noisy the house is through the night. The creaking and expanding of the pipes, the rumble of the fridge, the click of the walls, as well as the sighing and settling of the heating gives the house a heart beat, a rhythmic breathing - a life of its own - I just wish it didn't do it so loudly!

Any hoo, as I was saying -  seeing I am awake and trying not to toss and turn too much, disturbing Himself, I thought I would slink down quietly and try and calm my frazzled grey matter with a cup of tea and a tinkle on the keyboard (and feed the catlings).
The tea is delish, the cats are playing in the kitchen and the brain is still whizzing, so I shall continue to subject you to my wafflings..

After yesterday's tidal surge was temporarily contained by catching the drip...drip...drip in the spare kitty litter tray, Himself armed himself with some tools and unscrewed the incontinent cupboard off the wall.

Not as easy as it sounds as it suspended beneath the counter next to the sink making it awkward to reach. With a few choice words hissed under his breath he managed to wrestle the unit free by manhandling it out of position. The catlings decided to inspect his work by trying to shin up his legs. Not a popular move.

Once the cupboard was freed of it's moorings, we could see where the leak was emanating from. There, lurking behind the unit was a copper pipe which was shooting the finest shower of water straight up against the underside of the counter. It was such a fine jet of water that it seems disproportionate to the problems it had been causing. This stream was of great interest to the catlings, in particular Lily who sat beneath it with a quizzical stare. Himself, now seeing what was the cause of the leak set about fixing it.

Easy job he grinned, just off to get the 'thingamy watsit' (please insert correct terminology here - my brain although awake is not functioning).

I start to cook our evening meal.

Much clattering and muttering later, he stomps off the garage.... 'Need to get the doodad thingamajig' (insert as before but with a different tool)

Bit more DIY sounds are coming out from under the counter, the air is turning a delicate shade of blue.

...The **** thing won't fit...... need the other gizmo -  see if that makes a difference - if not its off to the local hardware store...mutter mutter mutter (insert necessary correct terminology and swear words at will).

By now food preparation is in full swing as I step over bits of copper piping, the offending cupboard, tools of various shapes and sizes and the husband. He is, I feel, getting a little cross that a simple job has turned out to be a major affair but then..... isn't that normal? It feels like it in our house.

He breaks off briefly to eat then disappears off to his garage again to retrieve the gubbins/whatchamacallit/doohicky-thingamajub that will just do the job and solve all the problems......but not just yet..... (once again, please feel free to replace the above words with plumbing related tools in any order you fancy - I thank you)

Eventually he emerges jubilant and I am ushered into the kitchen to bask in his victory. There - his nemesis - a small finger sized copper pipe, with a tiny split in it, lies vanquished on the floor surrounded by tools and mucky  water. He has manfully replaced the pipe with a special 'whatever' attachment thingy and most importantly - HE HAS STOPPED THE LEAK - he is without a doubt my hero.

However, the story does not end here - oh no, what happened afterwards included some of the following - moving the incontinent cupboard across to the other side of the kitchen and attaching it to another wall, which meant the fridge had to move out of its slot and into a new position, which entailed removing the obligatory grotty stuff that collects beneath the fridge and mopping the floor. The space where the fridge now resides needed another cupboard to be evicted (cue same grotty stuff lurking plus half a dozen cat toys, toy bullets, missing letters from school, elastic bands and marbles) and moved to it's new home.

This also meant the dog's bed (a hard plastic kidney bean shaped bed) was next to move. Only problem here was the bed now did'nt fit the remaining space....our kitchen is not big, it is bordering on bijou.
Not a problem says Himself - he is on a roll and I am going along for the ride. He returns waving a carpentry saw about in the air and promptly removes a corner off the dog's bed. She watched horrified from behind the desk. It now fits...........

While all this is happening, the boys have had their showers, sorted out their books for school and gone to bed.  The kitchen is still full of activity and a disgusting mess. I am now flagging....Himself too is getting bored with the whole thing so we stop for a brew. I try to wash up.....there~is~no~hot~water....

Oh yes Himself remembers, I switched off upstairs under the hot water tank.

Off he goes to turn the water back on. I think that I should also know where this tap is in case this ever happens again, so follow him.

I wish I hadn't....to get to the tap, he has pulled out half the bedding and towels from the airing cupboard and piled them up.....everywhere.

I walk away.

Back downstairs, kitchen just about acceptable, washing done, tea made and catlings fed (again) we sat down and contemplated what a 'productive' day it has been.

Thank goodness it was over - it was nearly midnight and we'd had had enough!

Dear Wednesday....

Dear Wednesday (formally known as favourite-day-of-the-working-week)

And it all started oh so well (ok, so it started normally), the usual rush as the boys kiss me goodbye on their way to work and school. The last parting words from Eldest were - my kit was a bit damp, I've put it on the raidiator to dry......then that Sudden Silence that falls after the cacophony of early morning mayhem.

Oh yes my dear Wens (may I call you Wens? - Wednesday sounds so formal seeing we have got together at least once a week for the last few decades) it was a normal morning....until.

I was washing up the breakfast things when a rather foisty scent caught my nose. I turned toward the catlings with an accusatory stare.

Not us they said. Hmmmm.

There it was again. This time it had a definite musty trail I was able to follow. So, taking on the role of a bloodhound, my nose locked on to this.....um......smell, I tracked it to the rumpus room.  Nothing appeared out of the norm. I scanned round, taking in the rumpled state of the rumpus room (Yes Wens, this room has a name and it is not afraid to live up to it) It was there I spotted Eldest's kit scrunched up on the radiator drying.

I had a thought....kit? Why was it wet? It didn't rain yesterday...... So went for a closer inspection and found that I was bathed in the warm glow of a sweaty teenager's gym kit - phooowy. Creasing up my nose and collecting up the pungent gear I returned to the kitchen to toss the offending items into the washing machine.

Well, my dear dear Weddy (now that we are corresponding I think Weddy is a good affectionate name for you) as I bent down to open the washing machine door I noticed (strong stomachs only please) that the outer large tray that houses the smaller kitty litter tray was full full of what looked like kitten wee. Copious amounts of piddle - more than a stallion could produce in a day and the kitty litter tray was actually F~L~O~A~T~I~N~G!!

Urgh! How could I let my poor dear (obviously bladder-wracked) cats suffer so and how on earth could they produce so much-of-the-stuff in about 8 hours!!

Feeling like an awful kitty-parent I pulled out the trays to wash and replace the mess, when I realised that the litter tray was lovely and clean (bar one little nugget of poo neatly parcelled up in the litter) and all the liquid on the outside was not piddle????

As I puzzled over this strange occurrence, I could hear.....

drip...drip...drip....drip....

Bending as best my knee (which is doing very well thank you for asking) would let me, I peered into the corner where the noise was coming from. Squinting whilst squatting under a cupboard when a knee will only comply for a couple of moments does nothing for one's self esteem so I had to resort to getting a torch and getting right down on to the floor.

The cupboard appeared to be leaking..... this cupboard has only pots and pans in it - how on earth does it spring a leak?

It was at this point dear Weddy that I realised that the floor was steadily being covered in dirty water dripping from a cupboard that has no obvious water source and while I am going through this dilemma this puddle of water is getting large enough to start having tides alongside the shores of the washing machine and my slippered feet.

I sprung into action and reached for my cell phone - quick as a flash I texted Himself and explained in terse sentences what was happening then returned to the watery scene to start mopping up and clearing away the mess.

A quick flurry of texts between the two of us led me to back to the cupboard under the sink searching for the stop cock tap. I could still hear the steady dripping next to me.

 All the goodies that lurk in that dank dark space were hauled out, washing powder, vases, spare scrubby things (Oh is that where they are!!) fabric softener, you get the gist, there is a lot of the stuff and half of it I have no real use for. Including a small box of dolly blue...... which for some unknown reason leapt into the murky puddle on the floor, spilling its contents into the water turning it into the most gorgeous indigo. At least my indoor water feature was now a pretty blue rather than a cacky yellow. (As I type this, my fingers are tinged a delicate shade of indigo - particularly under my nails...yum...)

I had to mop blue splatters off the wall, off the bins, off the cats (they were banished to the rumpus room as their help WAS NOT HELPING) - thank goodness it was not red as the kitchen would have looked like a slaughter house.

Well, Weddy, by now, the stop cock had been located, the water switched off and the floor mopped. The drip however, was still dripping and if anything it was dripping with more vigour! I have had to resort to catching the steady flow by putting a spare litter tray underneath. Excuse me while I go and empty it.

Feeling a little more composed, I went to release the cats from the rumpus room only to find that in their frustration of being refused their help they had captured and killed a block of polystyrene and left it's remains strewn across the carpet. They were so pleased with their efforts that they re-enacted their predatory skills hunting down a cardboard box and jumping up and down on it in an attempt to prevent it from escaping. I rescued the poor box which was in a bit of a sorry state and buried it in the paper recycle bin.

So you see, Wednesday, you are, as of today, not necessarily my favourite day any more, please do not take it personally, I am sure we'll bump into each other again, probably in a week or so.......... No hard feelings

kind regards

hawthorn

Ps, I would like a brew and there is no water in the kettle - for which I am holding you responsible.

Headless chicken moi?

We are still planning our Yarnival and in between writing and testing patterns, making bunting (commission), emailing stall holders, copious amounts of paper work (good grief - whoda thunked it that a fun day playing with wools and yarns would be so grown up and include insurance, risk assessments and health and safety forms - gah!) ordering and unpacking the most delicious alpaca yarns - I decided that I didn't really have enough on my plate so started this.....

Poor old Eldest, he was at home while his younger brother was off out on a jolly with a mate, so he was press-ganged invited to help - you should have seen the world-weary teenage-look he gave me as I tried to explain that I wanted to turn this unpromising looking unit into a something I could use on my stand at the Yarnival festival.

Any way several coats of paint later (and mugs of tea and chocolate for bribery - him and medicinal purposes - me...... you understand of course.....erhem) it was finally done.

Well - what do you think?? I am pleased with it and it holds some of the wools and yarns I am selling - now need to sort out the rest of my stand.

Oh, and in between all of the above, the catlings had to go to the vet to be speyed - so they are now sporting the clipped-on-the-one-side-look, I had to go to the doctor for a check up on my grumpy knee (verdict? - yes it is still grumpy) and now I have to take the knee off to physio. Fortunately my folks have stepped into the breach and are driving me all over the place - I still can't drive! ***I will be so glad when my knee is less grumpy and more co-operative***

Any way - must dash - lots still to do but thought I would leave you with this happy image of my two catlings before their 'close-shave-at-the-vets-that-meant-no-food-passing-their-lips' a story I will share with you - I promise!

Hope the beginning of your week was as happy and carefree - love and woolly thoughts - hawthorn xxxx

errare humanum est ummmm.....

Back after a short break, I know its only been a few days, but after a stint of writing a themed post for the last 21 days, I suddenly had had enough of being a mouse potato (huh?)***

It's been rather hectic around here recently. Our Yarnival plans are going full steam ahead and some days I feel that I can not keep up with all what's going on. Don't get me wrong, its all exciting and positive stuff and I am not a laggard but wow some days my feet (foot) hardly touches the ground (metaphorically speaking seeing I still have the gait of a one legged pirate on the deck of a ship).... but I digress.

I have, my dears never fear, had some excellent hooky time with string bags flying off my hook. I am also writing the pattern for them and testing them out to make sure all errata are eradicated (ooh a bit of alliteration, gosh my brain is all a whirrrrrr) *note to self - drink less coffee first thing in the morning and drink more tea instead*

I found it really easy to make the bags from the recipe in my head, it was only when a friend asked for the patten back in December that I started to have difficulties. Easy peasy I smugly thought as I quickly wrote down the instructions. Umm, I read through it and realised that I better make the bag following the written words rather than what was floating around in my head.  A rather wonky bag began to appear.
Scrap that. Start again.
So, this time, as I went along, I wrote down the instructions. Feeling a little better about it, I typed it out and with a few drawings to illustrate the steps, I handed over the pattern feeling rather happy about it.  Until I was asked for the pattern by another friend, easy peasy again I thought (think I should stop using that phrase - coz it usually ends up being far from it!) and printed out another copy. Said friend sat down immediately with me and started to make the bag.....uh ohh, I could see an issue happening. So using her as a test pilot (had to give her incentive to continue) and plying her with a mug of tea (nothing stronger as I needed serious test flying with this hooky pattern) we went through the pattern again.
Ah Ha! Sorted. She went back home (mind you - she's not reported back if she finished the bag....) and I continued using the now modified pattern (stored in my head - not good)

Now..... I am trying again, to write the pattern in proper terminology, with photographs and easy to follow directions - why? Coz I want to be able to sell a kit complete with yarns and instructions for people to buy at the Yarnival - easy peasy. Why do I set myself these tasks??

All my test bags are finally coming out the same and I'm love loving the jumblement of colours and yarns

The obligatory brew without which, all is lost - oh by the way - did you know I was a tea drinker?

Hmm, needs two grams more then it's correct! Told you it was a 'recipe'!

Well, better get on, have loads of ends to weave in and labels to stitch on, easy peasy! (Oh - hang on, also have to weigh balls of wool, type in correct version of pattern,  take and insert photos as I go along, match colours, bag up and label - err..... easy peasey!)

Ooh almost forgot ***mouse potato? Well - you have heard of couch potatoes - yeah? Well, a mouse potato is someone who is permanently attached to their computer or laptop and today that is certainly me! You heard it here first :)

Guess what!?!

I have been invited to feature on 'Best of the Web' by Craft Corners - what a good start to the week :)

I will link up when my little bit is posted - oooh how exciting!

An open letter to the kittens

My dearest Kittlings,

As your 'mom' I feel that I must gently let you know that there are some ground rules about living in this house. 

Knocking down the little bowls of bulbs off the window ledge is a no-no. No matter how funny it is to watch the bulb soil cascade down the wall, on the chair, over the table and on to the floor and yes those little bulbs do roll around in the most comical way especially when battered with a paw. I can understand the first time might have been an accident, but I do suspect that  it may just be deliberate by the time you have done for the fourth time- I might be wrong here, but I do have my suspicions.

Also, while on the subjects of plants - mine - please do not create those delicate lace edges on the leaves for me. Yes, it is very pretty but I don't think my plants care too much for that airtex look...

And talking of delicate little holes - why are there teeth marks along my diary edge? Do you two girls know anything about that? I thought not, s'pose you are not too sure who chewed the aerial off the remote controlled car either?

I know that in this household we do tend to share most things, chairs, floor space, cushions, cheese but there are some things that are mine and mine only.....wool. My dearest little Lily, please DO NOT (I repeat) DO NOT go upstairs and carefully select a hand spun, hand dyed hank of rather precious thread and then carry it downstairs (no - it - did - not - fight - back - and - need - killing....) and proceed to give it a good bashing under the diningroom table. 

While on the subject of things thread like - electrical cables really don't make good trapeze equipment. I realise that you thought that swinging on the fairy lights was sheer joy and you suspected that we thought the same by the look on our faces as we watched you travel through the air on a single cable while the attached lightbulbs came crashing down after you.....  I might be being a tad over cautious here but PLEASE DO NOT DO IT AGAIN.

I can understand if my boys, when charging around the house make thudding sounds and so they should they do have size 5 and 6 feet, but you my dear little dainty kittlings have feet no bigger than my thumb yet you seem to create the illusion of a stampeding-herd-of-crazed-elephants as you lightly trip your way across the hall. My heart and my nerves are feeling a little tense.

I L*O*V*E the way you like to get personally involved with any activity in the kitchen, particularly when it comes to your dinner time. But do you, I hesitate to ask, do you really have to get so personal as you leap up and climb my leg in your enthusiasm to be fed. Your claws are delightfully needle-like and you are justifiably proud of them however, my leg does now resemble a well used dartboard. All I need to do is rub in a little Indian ink and I will have a permanent tattoo as a reminder of your affection.

Please, my dear little fuzzballs do not think that you are in the dog house, on the contrary, you have brought such laughter and life to the house that all (most) of your transgression are forgiven, just lay off the plants, my wool, my leg, electrical cables, toys, the settee (oh my poor settee), paper, plastic, my laptop, the curtains, the dog, shoes, cushions and ANYTHING ELSE you might think is worth killing/chewing/tasting/playing with/all of the above.

Above all just keep on being you - kittlings - and keep us smiling

lots and lots of love    hawthorn xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx      =^.,.^=

PS  SPIT that plant out and get off that table NOW!

6♥

A quiet house, two boys curled up on the settee reading books, two kittens curled up on a chair tired out from frantic play, Himself pottering around and I am about to wander into the kitchen and do 'things' not sure what, but suspect it will involve tidying up. 


It is a mild warm boxing day, strange weather for this time of year but it does mean we can get out later for a bit of fresh air.


 ♡♡ T*H*A*N*K  Y*O*U♡♡  for all your festive messages and greetings

6♥ 

Happy Monday to you all 

16♥ days to 2012

♥16 - this year has quickly flown by and I've not fully realised the HUGE list I created myself in my Revolutions - I have managed to get through a fair few but some have definitely fallen by the wayside.
Of the 17 ideas/plans/wishes I listed, only 3 I've not managed to do, the rest I have either dabbled in or have made a start - not too bad I suppose (*note to self - have a less ambitious plan with less things on it next year!*)


Any way - I'm off on a jolly with fav-sis-in-law and my mom to Skipton, so got to get ready byeeeeeee!


Oops - today's photo - all BT (British Telecom) telephone posts have numbers on them. Each one a personal identity. It amazes me that from the centres of towns to the wilds of a Scottish moorland you can find each and every post labelled, dated and numbered. Some numbers are so faded and weather beaten that it is difficult to read, while others - like this one today, have new shiny and smart details.  How many thousands and thousands of posts are there out there?

Any hoo 16♥

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤Happy FRIDAY to you all❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

18♥ and still counting down

As I sit in the gloom of an early wintery morning, the house empty of boys and Himself.
Just me. 
And two tear-away terrors as they rampage through a box full of things.
The kittens see a game in anything and everything. But why do they insist on climbing up the inside of my pyjama trousers  - ooOUCH!


18♥ days and still counting down.... today's picture is a boat filled canal. They chug up and down, plying their trade. Some are 'bus-boats' taking folk from one side of the town to the other, some are tourist attractions with sight-seers shivering as they pootle passed swans and floating litter. Their faces appear grim - they don't seem to be enjoying their treat - it's too cold. 


Some of the narrow boats are homes, cheery and warm looking as wispy trails of smoke waft from little chimneys. These boats have pots of herbs and piles of fire wood balancing alongside bicycles and wheelbarrows on their tops while others are for hire with brightly coloured folk art flowers adorning their sides.  


I've been in one that was a home, briefly visiting a woman to drop off a letter. She shared her boat with her 14 year old son, two dogs (something small and energetic and an irish wolf hound) and two cats....there wasn't much room to move let alone live. It was a strange disconcerting feeling looking out of a porthole and seeing a duck at eye level.

Any hoo - 18♥

 ♥  ♥  ♥ ♥  ♥  ♥ ♥  ♥  ♥ 

To anonymous or not to annonny-mouse - that is the question*

Dear Anonymous - I took on board and I agree with what you said and you will have seen I was delighted to read your thoughts and have published them .

The reason I have that little phrase 'Sadly anyone signing anonymously will not be published'  is down to a few blog-readers who have written some unkind things and hide behind their anonymity. They don't take responsibility for what they say. Since adding that little phrase, the only 'anonymous' comments have been genuine .Blogger also do not allow you to remove the anonymous option.

I am not looking only for positive comments choosing to ignore anything I disagree with, I was just trying to prevent another vitriolic tirade. You can sign a name if you wish,once you have typed in your comments, by choosing the NAME/URL option (one higher than the anonymous option) it allows you to sign in - but if you still wish to remain anonymous that is your choice and please feel free to remain so :)

Poppy Cottage thank you for your comments - I got my name tags from - Woven Labels UK and they have some nice colour combinations and icons - my little ribbons came from the craft and hobby label option.

I've just collapsed at my desk with a throbbing knee - Youngest was desperate to go trick or treat-ing (or as he calls it trickle treating) and he wanted me to go with him.  Unfortunately I was supposed to be at work, however, thanks to a timely and suitably spooky power cut forcing us to close early - I managed to get home in time to help him into his ghoulish costume, paint his face and hobble off (complete with wig and suitable facial grimace) We went out with friends and saw many familiar families of monsters and mini-witches. Now, home after a suitable haul of sugary treasure, I am limping like a peg legged pirate (oo-argh me 'arties).

Any hoo - thought I would share with you a photo of my littlest darling........ in all his gory........ he's a sweet kid, really, no really!!

Well, two posts in one day - waffled enough now, will end here ..... got a bit of crochet to get on with :) 

Night all and blessings be on this night of all Hallow's Eve and tomorrow is a new day - 

Have a lovely Tuesday xxxxxx

*Apologies to Shakespeare for completely ruining his line (or was it Edward De Vere's?)