Domesticali

Roll up, roll up

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

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

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

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

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

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

See what I mean? Magic.

From the mouths of babes

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

Me:           Shall I be the Mummy?

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

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

Have yours come up with any corkers recently?

Bookmaking (without a horse in sight)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cutting secret boxes into the pages.

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

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

The A to Z of knitting

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Little stamps

Sometimes it feels good to fall back on something familiar.

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

Better keep planning I think.

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

Frustration

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

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

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

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

On my windowsill you can find...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Al fresco cooking

Is it shameful to be constantly tapping my children for blog fodder? Thankfully, someone in the household still has time to be creative. It isn't me, that's for sure. But I would miss the act of blogging sorely, so you'll have to indulge me. And today, it is worth it. Because there was something very special happening in the garden.

Mark's friend Chloe came to play after school, bringing with her this gem of a book. And what marvels it contains.

No supermarket is as well-stocked as a forest, a sand dune, or your own backyard, and everyone knows that dolls dote on mud, when properly prepared. Invite everyone, for Pencil Sharpener Pudding, Dandelion Souffle, Wood Chip Dip, and, of course, Mud Pies.

I knew as soon as I saw it, that we needed a copy. It is utterly charming and funny for the way in which all the recipes are presented so seriously.

FRIED WATER
Melt one ice cube in a skillet by placing it in the sun. When melted, add 1 cup water and sauté slowly until water is transparent. Serve small portions, because this dish is rich as well as mouth-watering.

Unfortunately, it is out of print and has proved a bit tricky to track down. But  for something so enchanting, it was worth the effort.

Hors d'oeuvre anyone?

Regression

The last time I owned a pair of Converse I was fifteen. They were red. It was a very good time. Who doesn't occasionally fall in love with red footwear?  Right Julie? Right Beki? Right Zoe?

But lust is another matter entirely. There should be a specific term for shoe lust. Because when I first saw this Camilla Engman version, that's what I had. Sadly, it seemed unless I was prepared to have them shipped trans-Atlantic, they were not to be. And then, on Tuesday,  they appeared. Issuing their siren song from the window of Schuh. Did you notice that little UK purchase friendly link? I'm nice sometimes.

Want another one? Try this. It shouldn't really surprise me that there is an entire site devoted to teaching you alternative methods to lace your shoes. But somehow it does.  'Scuse me, off to test out some variations for optimum comfort. 

114 days

The calendar seems to be playing tricks on me. Tail end of April? Already? That is almost a third of the way through the year. The days flying by. But this year, thanks to Project 365 and Six One Way, I at least feel I have a visual record of them.

More scary, might be a written log (Capello's doing one this week). I'm not so sure I want to recall my days that clearly!

And exhale

Back to school day (for Mark at least). Johnny has a couple of Inset days,  which have caused much hilarity. When I explained to him why he was not going back on the same day as Mark, he must have mis-heard me. Insect? Inset? What's the difference when you're only 4.

    J:  Mama, I'm not going to school today am I?
    Me:  No. Remember, I told you?
    J: Yes, I have a bug day.

There are great things about the holidays (not least the lack of morning scramble), but a secret part of me relishes the return to routine when everyone is back at school. Of course, feeling relieved about getting rid of the little darlings also makes me feel somewhat less than Earth-Motherly . Hence the need for extra good lunchbox treats.

Apricot and almond yogurt coated bites.

Very simple and perfect for assuaging guilt.

Funny feet

Do all men have unphotogenic feet or is it just mine? Hubby's socks (my second pair) got finished this weekend and I've been attempting to get him to model them for a photo opportunity, but to no avail. This was his idea of an arty pose.

There is no hope.

So my next knitting project is for me. Inspired by this. I've cast on.

Toothpick Engineering

Do you ever see a project here in blogland and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will be giving it a whirl?
Looking at The Small Object's epoxy scultures yesterday and reading about their marshmallowy inspiration had me scurrying for the toothpicks almost immediately.

We substituted playdough as the bonding element - bluetack probably would have been a better choice, but no matter how much of the stuff I buy, it always seems to disappear round these parts. Most of it resurfaces as little black patches where it has been ground into the carpet. Small boys and interior decor are not a marriage made in heaven. I will have clean carpets when they leave home -  a treat I am looking forward to greatly.

Mark, in his typical 'unable to execute any project as originally envisaged by an adult' way, went off piste in his rendition of the Eiffel Tower. He then proceeded to conduct seismic testing (shaking the table until his structure toppled over). You have to imagine the whole episode, accompanied by never ending monologue, describing what he is doing in the manner of a documentary voice over. What a child. He's clearly been watching too much 'Big, Bigger, Biggest'.

Oh and guys? Thanks so much for the toothpaste appreciation!