Domesticali

Worth recording

Over lunch today - leftover rice with kale and shredded chicken - particularly tasty, even if I do say so myself, I was catching up with reading a few blogs. Suse used the phrase 'it's just the usual around here, nothing particularly worth recording'. Which sums up neatly exactly my excuse to my Mother, who chided me for my lack of updates recently.

But I've been trying to step away from the online world a little and immerse myself more fully in the real life rhythms of my day to day.

Investing my time a touch more mindfully in the things I know will bring me pleasure later.

Serene? Well, looks can be deceiving. I've just had the usual nervous breakdown inducing session of transferring the seasons sports fixtures into the family diary. Quite why I am bothering with the garden when there are probably 6.3 seconds when we will have free time to sit in it and enjoy it, I haven't quite figured out yet.

On a completely different note - duck racing anyone?

Highlight of the village social calender. We managed two ducks in the final, but failed to secure victory. There were ice creams though, which more than made up for any disappointment.

 

 

The Seaside

Don't want you to think we spend all our time gadding about making merry. But we've been off to the seaside visiting my folks. When we got here it was frrreeezing, with a howling wind and sleet falling. Hiding inside weather, for sure. But today, we awoke to the sun shining and positively balmy weather compared to that of late. Time to grab the camera and head out to capture some of it, in case it is a short lived interlude.

Hope you caught a few rays and made the most of them.

The bunny is coming

When I looked out at the snow this morning, it seemed impossible to think that in a week it will be Easter. But even if the weather hasn't got the message, the days are marching on.

I'm having a week off from technology and I'm hoping that when I return, Spring will have sprung. Consider yourself on notice, big bad Winter.

And Happy Easter!

Found

Johnny was chatting the other day.

"When I learn a new word - read it in a book or something - and find out what it means, I hear it all over the place after that"

I understood exactly what he was getting at. It happens to me too - less often with words nowdays (my vocabulary probably reached it's zenith when I was about 17 and has been in serious decline ever since). But visually, it is certainly the case. When Monica began posting photos of lost items, I started to notice them too. Lying about all over the place, forgotten and forlorn. 

And something compelled me to begin photographing them.

Even if it makes my family think I'm a bit odd. Doesn't stop them pointing out the ones I've missed spotting though!

Hearts and pancakes

This is a good week, if you are fans of seasonal celebrations. Shrove Tuesday and Valentines Day and during half term too - enough to get anybody's creative juices flowing. However, some of our efforts to mark the occasions have been more successful than others.

I'd seen a cute idea over at Pinterest and armed myself with my foolproof Delia's classic pancake batter recipe and a squeezy bottle, we set to.

The idea is, you put your batter in a squeezy bottle and then you can make doodle heart pancakes. Look how cute those things are (images from the Bite delite blog).

Okay, want to see mine?

Hmm - not really as attractive, is it? Thise suckers are more difficult to do than you'd think. Plus lacy looks nice, but isn't as filling, so I'm afraid we abandoned all efforts to be chic and just had round pancakes instead. Greed 1 - Style 0

Thankfully, there are other ways to celebrate the festival of love. Our antlers got a little seasonal makeover.

And we thought we might try our hands at making a celebration of love film - me and the boys. We've begun, even though it is highly unlikely to be ready in time. The photoshoots have been fun, but they keep getting hijacked by play dates and games of football and cat sitting duties. I'm sure Sam Mendes doesn't have these problems.

 

The Mummy Breakfast

Mummy breakfast does not refer to the usual weekday offering of a large mug of caffiene and some toast grabbed with one hand while the other performs essential domestic tasks like signing homework diaries or locating misplaced PE kit. No, it is an entirely different beast alltogether which occurs a handful of times each year.

So this morning, I hared home from the school run, mixed up a batch of apple and apricot muffins and fumigated the downstairs loo. And right on cue, they began to appear - a motley assortment of friends (I am allergic to cliques), who have children who may or may not all know one another, but who vaguely overlap at various different schools or activities or who have homes in the same village.

I lay the proper dining table with a cloth, and my favourite glasses and cups and dishes and we sit and enjoy a leisurely breakfast of juice and fruit salad and yoghurt, croissants and muffins and too many pots of tea to count. And someone might be late because their child was doing an assembly, and someone might have to dash off to an appointment, but the time in between, with the fire lit and a bunch of simple daffodils on the table and snippets of news is precious indeed.

Sometimes I wonder why we don't do it more often. But then perhaps it wouldn't feel as special. And afterwards, there remains a wonderful sense of fullness. Not just of tummies, but of life.

In need of something big and orange

Do you subscribe to the view that your body lets you know what you need? Today, mine is asking for vitamin D. Feels like the sun has been absent for an eternity. I love the snow, but the endlessness of the leaden skies has been sapping my spirits this week. And all I feel like doing is eating.

There are some side benefits to this for the rest of the family, who have been getting very good food this week (even if I do say so myself). And with the oven on, the kitchen is a warm and cosy place, and probably has the brightest lights too, which is cheering in itself, when there is precious little of the natural variety.

So there was a batch of Marmalade this week. And then, because I seem to have made more than we will probably get through, a Marmalade cake, to use some of it up again.

It's waiting for a little glaze of icing. And I am waiting for the sunshine to return as patiently as I can and contemplating other orange things in the meantime.

Reggie, our big ginger moggie - he hasn't been out much this week either. We've both got our paws crossed for next week. At least only one of us has to worry about getting too stout to fit through the cat-flap. Though my jeans may also be cause for concern...

Snow frolics

This has been a weekend for revelling in the white stuff. What had been, in the diary, a jumbled expanse of commitments, suddenly transformed into a blank canvas. Such is the magic of snow.

Don't laugh at my movie making skills - I had to get Mark to help me a little bit (filming the live action downhill sections, as well as a teeny bit of technical knowhow). But somehow, in spite of my ineptitude, the finished thing is somehow so much more than the sum of its parts.

And I am seriously contemplating a little Creating Time Capsules course. These days, like the snow, pass so quickly. Somehow it feels important to capture them.

 

 

Supermarket musings

Today, there was an unexpected treat when I picked up the trolley - another person's shopping list still there on the clip. I love those days (they looked to be planning Shepherds Pie for dinner).

But even the thrill of a found list couldn't bring this shopping trip up to the dizzy heights of the one yesterday. It was slightly insane to drive sixty miles to go to the supermarket. But then I did get to spend the day with Monica too. Even if she might disown me after being so insanely excited about grocery shopping. But it was Whole Foods Market in Cheltenham. And it was worth every moment on the road.

I've been dying to go since Sue blogged about her trip. And she was braver than me about taking photos. Actually, I was in too foodie enraptured a state to think of photos. Too busy soaking in the sights and smells and tasting what was on offer and lobbing random items into my trolley. They really were random - hence the proper shopping trip this morning to buy actual food we could eat, not esoteric elements.

You know it's a great shop when you come home feeling excited about ingredients and cooking and eating. And selling a lifestyle with some of the most amazing visual merchandising I have ever seen in a shop is a smart business move I'm sure. In fact, I know if they were closer to home, I would be heavily subsidising their profits by my regular presence.

Yes, there are cheaper ways to provide fuel for your body. But the psychological boost that it gave me? Priceless.

Onward

The best antidote for January blues seems to me to be looking squarely forward. I find myself contemplating the prospect of Spring and knitting socks in an optimistic daffodil shade.

Well begun is half done - Aristotle? Mary Poppins? Someone wise said it anyway.

There have been difficult letters to write this week. One has been swirling round my head all holiday long, but the thoughts needed catching and putting on paper - when it was done I had no idea why I'd procrastinated. It was so liberating to have pinned it down.

So when life threw up the need for a second, vastly different kind of letter, I sat straight down and wrote it. Even though the words would hardly come and I am not sure what comfort it could possibly bring. I suppose I wrote it to make myself feel a little better. Sometimes there is nothing for it but to keep putting one foot in front of the other and see where the journey takes you.

Scented clouds

One child back at school, one to go. The early start was painful, but it did at least give rise to a morning in which things could be accomplished, rather than one filled with ultra leisurely tea, toast and pyjama loafing. Lovely though those things are, there isn't much to show for it, come the end of the day.

And January is always the time for bold intentions - for setting goals, achieving things, discarding the superfluous (inches or clutter) - none of which really sits well with loafing. But it has been so comfortable, this period of nesting, that a transition project seemed called for. A gentle beginning.

Some clouds, filled with lavender. For scented linens, or restful sleep. Not that there should be an issue with nodding off this evening. The 6am start sees to that quite nicely, I find. See, every cloud has a silver lining.

Dismantling

It's not quite twelfth night yet, but our decorations are down and stowed away back in the loft ready for next year. It's a strange time - I simultaneously relish the extra space and airy sensation that removing several trees immediately gives, while missing the all day glow effect of the fairylights and the general feeling of magic and wonder that the whole ensemble provides.

Each year though, there are one or two things that I can't bear to put back in the loft. Last year, it was my styrofoam cup wreath which was so at home hanging over the mirror, that it has never left.

And this year, these pom poms, strung by Johnny during his long ill phase in December and hung up high over his bed.

It felt so wrong to take down those little puffs of happiness, that they are staying put. And I wonder why our house feels more crammed full with each passing year - sigh.

Where I stood 2012

Almost time to say farewell to the old year. Thirteen is my lucky number - can't wait to see what this coming year has in store.

Having just spent an age in the unruly archives making this mosaic, I'm nominating 'improve photo deleting/tagging/uploading/archiving' as a resolution priority.

Corners of my home

On Saturday, I had to stop by the house of a friend to collect something from her. When I rang the bell, there was a longish pause, then a great deal of scrabbling and fumbling. Uh-oh, clearly I should have called ahead.. She answered eventually and ushered me in apologetically. The hallway was full of bags and boxes in various piles. Evidence of a clear-out.

And it made me smile, because I recognised the impulse.The one that hits just before the decorations go up, the urge to purge the clutter and make ready for the season ahead. And there has been a little of that here over the last few days. Putting things to rights and attempting to pare back a touch.

The antlers were a birthday present - I just needed a little quiet time at home to install them in this spot, which is making me happy whenever I walk downstairs. And the boys have done such a good job of clearing the excess from their room, that I let them put up their teeny tree in all its gaudy glory.

And by the end of the weekend, the house was looking a lot more loved than it was at the beginning. Although our tree remains unpurchased and our outdoor lights are myseriously missing. We must have has Christmas gremlins last year.

The clearing also seems to have extended to my blog - what d'you make of the new look? It is designed to allow for bigger photos - a precursor to a resolution to get back to my camera in 2013.

And suddenly

And suddenly, it was December.

The month of the shortest days. And the most to squeeze in between sunrise and sunset.

Sick children didn't help this week. Or flooding. Or hours and hours spent battling through traffic.

But sweet greetings from friends did. And visits from family. And giving in to temptation.

When someone asked this morning 'How's life?', the answer came easily - full.

Snuggling down

I'm getting the urge to hibernate. Looking out as the rain lashes down outside, I really have no desire whatsoever to leave the house. It is a new phenomenon for me - I've always been one of those people happier out than in. During my school days, I used to force myself to meet my essay deadlines early - not because I was a particularly conscientious student, but just in case I had the opportunity to do something fun that I'd have to miss out on if I needed to stay home and get my work done.

But as I get older, I find myself more content to be at home. Unfortunately, I also find myself putting things off more. Particularly those things without a firm deadline. Like the Aran sweater that has been on the back burner for too long. My Mum brought it to me. She volunteers in a charity shop, but the shop is uber-strict about what it will sell, and a hand-knit aran jumper didn't make the cut. She thought I might like to have it instead. 

So it sat in my study for a while. A little snug for me to wear and rather bulky and itchy too. I thought about unravelling it to re-use the wool. Then I looked at the other wool on the shelf, already making me feel guilty in its unknitted state and decided to felt it instead. Into a hot wash it went and out again, smaller, shrunken and felted beautifully.

It had cushion cover written all over it. I found a cushion pad - the size looked smack on. But so thick and sumptuous was the felt, that there was no way my little sewing machine was going to cope with it. The sweater sat a while longer. Then one evening, while supervising bath-time, I took some heavy white sashiko thread and stitched up the gaps where the arms and neck holes had been in the original sweater. Three sides of my cushion complete.

But how to finish it off? There wasn't enough sweater for an envelope back. A zipper, installed by hand would not look good. Ditto hand sewn buttonholes. Blanket stitch seemed the logical answer. Blanket stitch. My nemesis.

The cushion sat a while longer, its guts exposed. Until quite suddenly I decided I must finish something. Anything. And armed with some scrap wool and a huge needle, I sewed it up, lickety-split.

And now it is on my sofa, inviting me to sit with it a while. And I am left thinking that putting things off is not a good trait to have acquired, but that enjoying being at home definitely is.

Orange to chase away the grey

On those bright crisp days, when you can scuffle along through piles of leaves and smell woodsmoke in the air, I am a big fan of Autumn. But sadly, the real Autumn days of late are soggy and grey ones - not even properly chilly yet. The sort of days that sap energy and dampen spirits. 

And on these days, thank goodness for orange.

And for hunkering down at home.

And for the photographic evidence that the skies are not always grey.

Looking forward to hubby coming home this weekend, and cinnamon buns for breakfast (provided I manage to pull off my enforced half wholemeal flour and slightly past it's prime yeast experiment) and fireworks on Saturday night and a family movie with popcorn this evening. What do you have planned to lift your spirits?

Letting go

Finished some little knitted Kanoko Pants for the newborn son of a friend.

Her story is not mine to tell, but I have watched it unfold for some while now and from time to time I have contemplated how she can do it. How she can be strong enough to let go of the things she cannot change. To make her peace with them. 

Letting go is not one of my strong points. I waste much energy feeling angry and frustrated at situations I can do nothing to alter. So I keep my hands busy and hope that tomorrow, or the next day, I will wake up and find my anger has gone. Sometimes I think if I had less free time, there would be less space for brooding and I would be able to just let things go and move on. It's such a waste.

Shortages

There's been some alarming rumblings about a pumpkin shortage this year. Bad weather, mumble mumble, too cold, mutter, they don't like it wet sort of talk. 

But that's not why I got my little ornamental gourds early - they are just so cheerful on the shelves outside the back door, that I like to have them there for as long as possible.

Though when I compare them to the shelves of years gone by, there seem to be fewer mini-pumpkin types. Perhaps the stories are true after all.

 

(the same shelves in 2009)

Actually, the shape of the pumpkins aren't the only thing I notice about these photos. It's the pictures themselves. DSLR verus lazy phone Instagram shot - I feel ashamed of my efforts of late. 

There's no real reason behind not picking up my proper camera. No excuse for failing to make the effort to think about how to make a photograph look more interesting. But somehow it has happened. And when I see the results I feel a little bit sad. 

Clearly, there's a photography mojo shortage round these parts. Must do better.

 

Galloping

This month has gone faster than any September I can remember. We're standing on the cusp of a new month and I am conscious of not really having tamed this one yet.

I thought I had found a moment to sit and pin it down in a post, but sometimes there is no way to go back and do that and it is better to just move forward. Let's see what you've got, October.

Green - Summer Colour Week

It's all well and good lazing about in the grass, if you have the chance.

Some of us have had a rather more frantic day supervising the 'on road' portion of cycle proficiency.

It was, quite frankly, an eye opener.

Who knew your personality was expressed in the way you ride a bike?

I was tasked, at one point, to take photos.

The girls studiously ignored me and concentrated on their road positioning.

The boys yelled 'Hi Ali', pulled funny faces and rode with no hands on the handlebars.

God help us when it's time for them to learn to drive.

 

Meditations from the bottom of the garden

The playhouse in the boggy corner of our garden is looking a little worse for wear. Clearly plywood and larch lap are not materials that were designed to last forever, but I find it's demise somewhat depressing.

It seems to signify somehow that the children are no longer little ones. A fact borne out by them really being too big to clamber up the ladder inside onto the mezzanine floor.

Mezzanine - that makes it sound rather grand, which couldn't be further from the truth. Honestly, it is nothing much more than a slightly neglected home to the detritus of summers past - sandpit toys, diggers and dump trucks, plastic bowling pins and balls of all different shapes and sizes. From those summers where the back garden was an exciting place to be with much potential for play and adventure.

And I'm feeling nostalgic at the thought that this summer will probably be different. Even the smaller child's domain extends far far beyond the confines of our fence-line. The apparatus for happy hours spent just outside the back door, seem to have become an anachronism.

Yesterday, I sat down outside to make a little tribute to the world beyond the back garden. A wired mobile of driftwood, collected up  on a faraway trip. And then the small garden miracle arrived in the form of a child who emerged from the house wanting to help and insisting that it be hung for us all to enjoy from the eaves of the old playhouse.

I realize it's not quite David Nash. But a reminder that the wide world outside our own back gardens and the people to be found in it are a gift to be savoured long after we return home. 

Extroversion and living it large

Have you ever done one of those Myers Briggs psychometric tests? Many moons ago and on a different life trajectory, such things were important. I'm an ENTJ, the E bit of which stands for extraversion, which is not so much about being a larger than life, soul of the party type, but more about the fact that I gain energy from interraction with people. 

New faces, new places, different things - they are what I find stimulating. Which is something that easily gets forgotten in my life as it is now. But over the weekend, I snuck off to an open garden event close to me and as I walked through a new space, a little bit of excitement snuck up on me.

Part of it was daydreaming about what I'd do if I owned the Manor House - more produce in the walled garden, move the pink rose out of the sunken area where everything else was blue and hazy.

A proper cutting garden, prairie planting, making more of the house's architecture. There was even a perfect annexe with a glass walled section (I felt a craft barn retreat centre coming on).

And then I stopped to laugh at myself. Looking at the bigger picture, spotting what could be improved, making plans - that's how I used to make my living. I loved it. I was good at it. But it doesn't really sit too well with happy domesticity and it's slower pace, routine and incremental change.

The optimist in me knows there must be a way of combining the two. Perhaps Hubby is right after all - we need a project. He wants a cowshed with no roof and five acres.....

 

 

Jubilee Jubilation

Monarchy is not a subject that often troubles my day to day existance. There is a vague fondness for the Royal Family, in much the same vein as my general affection for red postboxes and Flake 99s. Don't think about them too much, but glad they are around as part of our shared culture.

But it is impossible not to get caught up in the general air of excitement surrounding the Jubilee. For a start, our closest town is swathed in flags and bunting and looks spectacular. And the children are all dressed in red white and blue today and have a special jubilee picnic planned at school (actually, if I'm not very much mistaken, the head was dressed as the Queen, complete with elbow length white gloves and a tiara).

Though I do wonder what some of the kids who come from other countries are making of the commotion. Actually, given that there were enough red white and blue baked goods in evidence this morning to sink a royal barge, I have a feeling they won't mind what they are celebrating.

Which was pretty much my conclusion when I realized the red and blue stamps I had picked out for Jubilee mini-bunting, weren't all necassarily Commonwealth in origin! But hey, I think keeness to party with bunting and cake and sprinkles is a phenomenon which crosses national boundaries. Happy Jubilee Weekend!

The smell of rain

Driving back from Cheltenham today, the smell hit me before I realised what was coming. That unmistakeable scent of summer rain on hot earth. And as the first huge plips hit the windscreen, I fought the sensible, adult impulse to roll up the windows and instead allowed the side of my body to be drenched as the heavens opened in one of those thunderstorms that seems inevitable after a spell of sunny weather in England.

Of all the senses, smell seems to be the one that can most easily evoke a moment in time. Summer rain will always be a first floor flat in Sheffield, some twenty years ago, when the midcentury modern decor was yet to be re-branded and was still just a horribly, dated early 70s hangover. The hopelessly sticking window with its broken sash cord, wedged wide in the hope of catching any stray breeze. And then that unmistakeable scent.

 Moving to sit in front of the open window and watch the rain splash onto the flaking paintwork and wash the layer of dust off the tree outside. There is no photo - I'm not even sure I had a camera then, but somehow the moment remains captured anyway, stored up to be released by the smell of this afternoon. 

Look at photos of flowers.

Breathe.

Erase all thoughts of passport related stress.

Two visits to the Post Office, three forms, two sets of photos. Does it really have to be this hard?

 

Diary consultation

This year, I really did try to enter the 21st century and use an electronic diary. But d'you know what? It hasn't worked out. I keep dropping balls. There was the birthday party I unintentionally forgot, the double booking of two important events and the offering to help a friend out on a day that was already busy.

Not like me at all.

So it's back to the big old diary on the kitchen counter - so what if I have to wait till I'm home to consult it. You can't stick washi tape on an elecronic diary. Or hedge your bets about when something is happening with judicious sprinklings of question marks. Sometimes, the low tech ways are the best.

And please, do not ask me how many cricket fixtures there are shoehorned in between now and the end of July. I may be the only person left in the UK praying for more rain.

Good things from yesterday

::: Ric Rack the colour of sunshine :::

::: Quince Jelly :::

::: Meeting Sue :::

Nice things often happen in threes, don't you find?

A List of Pleasing Things

• The glorious day today, which absolutely confirmed that winter is behind us now. Hooray.
• A lovely reminder in the post from Rebecca to make the most of life (and a nudge to give free motion embroidery another go).

• Lunch this week with Monica and Kristina - it was just a sandwich, but sharing it with friends made it special.
• And subliminally, that lunch lead to the urge to make flatbreads for dinner tonight - very good they were, too. Thank you Jamie Oliver.

 

 

• Photographs from the dress rehearsal of the school production of Great Expectations (Mark is Wemmick). The children look incredibly unlike themselves and totally in character - looking forward to seeing it on Friday night.
• Reading Nancy's post and recognising the perfect vehicle for the miscellany inhabiting my brain this evening - a list of pleasing things indeed.

Eleven things

For Elizabeth, who asked so nicely. Answers to her eleven questions:

1. If you were invited to make a piece of art, what medium would you use?

Paper – there’s something so soothing about cutting, folding and sticking. I think it brings out my inner toddler. And if it all goes horribly wrong, it’s so easy to scrumple it up and begin again.

2. What clothes are you most comfortable in? 

Scruffy, baggy, old ones. I am one of those people who comes home for the evening and immediately takes off their day clothes and puts on ‘loungewear’. Only that word seems to conjure up visions of wafting about in White Company cashmere, whereas my reality involves ancient flannel trousers and a sweatshirt dating from the late 1980’s. I am very loyal to certain items of clothing. They become like old friends.

3. If you had an unexpected afternoon to yourself and not a care in the world, how would you spend it?

I would visit somewhere new – a garden might be nice, this time of year, or in the autumn some woodland with a nice tea shop. Perhaps a gallery in bad weather, or exploring a new city. I don’t mind doing that sort of thing on my own. Particularly if I have my camera. It’s a treat to just let my mind wander free and see different things. 

4. Do you have things you "don't do" and if so, what are they?

Insurance renewals. I could do it, I just don’t want to. So I shan’t. I also try at all costs to avoid mowing the lawn, but that is because hubby laughed at my efforts when I last did it. If he didn't mow, I would dig up all the grass and just plant more flowers instead.

5. What do you panic most about losing?

My sense of taste. I lost it for about a month one Christmas a few years ago and I was utterly devastated. I could not believe how down it made me feel and what a soulless experience it was to eat without perceiving flavor.

6. What is your favourite quotation?

Far too fickle to have just one favourite. Whatever chimes with me and what I am doing or feeling at that moment. The last one which caught my eye says “No matter how slow you go, you are still lapping everybody on the couch” -  running motivation. It spoke to me.

7. What is your ideal holiday?

I am still searching for it. But I suspect I cannot afford to go, or that it is already fully booked by people who are more organized about planning these things than we are.

8. If you wear lipstick, what shape is the end, once it's no longer new?

I never wear lipstick as it makes me feel as if I have a cartoon pout. It is with high heels on my list of things I will master when I grow up. Does chapstick wear in the same way? If mine is in a stick, it has a flat top. If it comes in a tiny pot, I use it from the middle until a hole appears at the bottom, then work my way out to the sides.

9. Do you have a habit you would like to drop or one you would like to adopt?

I would love to be compulsively tidy.

10. What everyday article would you most miss if it were suddenly unavailable? 

Cotton buds. Must clean my ears every morning.

11. What is your favourite perfume?

After being a 'seldom without it' perfume lover, I gave up wearing it when I was breastfeeding and have never really got back into the habit. Perhaps I ought to address that. I favour clean and green sort of scents – currently have some Eau Dynamisante, which I like because it doesn’t smack of trying too hard.

Those were good questions - I'm meant to make up some of my own and tag some of you, but, I haven't. I've also used some exceptionally randomn photographs. Clearly, today is all about channelling my rebellious streak.