Domesticali

Old Year's Night

So, its nearly the new year now. Just a few hours remaining. Time to brush up the last scraps of the old year and then plunge forwards into the new.

I have a bizarre need to enter the new year, with everything tidied away. Making the house ready for whatever life has in store for us in the 365 days to come. But I wanted to put down the hoover for a moment, to drop in and thank you for sharing 2007 with me. You've been such a shining beacon of friendship and fun during what has been a difficult year in some respects. Onwards and upwards.

Albert Einstein said:
I feel that you are justified in looking into the future with true assurance, because you have a mode of living in which we find the joy of life and the joy of work harmoniously combined. Added to this is the spirit of ambition which pervades your very being, and seems to make the day's work like a happy child at play.

And that seems to me an appropriate thing to wish for all of us in the year to come. Happy 2008!

Ready for the Stork

Given that it takes 9 (10) months to grow a baby, you'd think that getting a little birth gift together wouldn't be that hard. But constantly I find the little darlings emerging from my friends before I have had the chance to produce a suitable welcome present.

However, this time Mr Stork, I have you beaten. A set of rubber stamp-lets for a chum of mine.

Because despite faithfully filling in the baby book with every detail of your precious firstborn's development, subsequent children are lucky if their milestones get recorded at all. At least this way, the 'first steps' scribbled in the corner of the family diary, can be highlighted a little bit. Well, that's the idea anyway. In a pinch, I'm sure elder siblings could use them to amuse themselves doing a spot of DIY tattoo work while Mummy is busy feeding the new arrival.

Quick, before the diet police see.

The Saturday papers are filled with diet articles. I don't do diets. Or deprivation in general. Pass another cupcake please.

All over

The saddest thing about Christmas is that it takes weeks of planning and hours of preparation work and then poof - it's over before you know it, albeit in a blaze of glory.

Anybody else feeling the post 25th slump? The space between the end of Christmas and the beginning of the New Year is always a slightly strange one for me. Time to pause, regroup and make plans for the future. You know how we like our plans round here!

Sunrise

 

So, it's time for a new blogging platform. Blogger, you drove me to it. I'd been loyal to you for almost 2 years, 344 posts, 4659 comments. But then you stopped my chums from commenting. You hid their blogs from me. What was a girl to do?

Have you any idea how long it has taken me to sort this big mess out? Valuable crafting time might I add. Bear with me while I try to get the boxes unpacked over here won't you? And please update your links, blogrolls, subscriptions and what not. Because I'd hate to loose you.

Nesting

There have been all manner of problems recently with non-blogspot bloggers leaving comments over here. Judging from the last few days, if you don't have a google/blogger account, you've just given up. I don't blame you. But it's sad without you. So over the Christmas break, I'm going to be busy with a little blog nesting.


I'll let you know where to come and find me when I've unpacked. Somewhere a bit more welcoming hopefully.

The wonderful goodies in the photo arrived from Jennifer at Scissors Paper Glue yesterday. The boys were very put out that I was allowed to open my parcel when they have to wait for Christmas! If you want some similar booty of your own, she has an etsy shop. With lots of ephemera. I love that word, don't you?

Preparations 8 - Primped and packaged

Feels like we're entering the home stretch now. A little bit of wrapping to indulge in, some last minute distribution and the big day will be here.

Dishcloths have been ironed (what a hoot - I don't really understand 'blocking', but the wavy edges look somewhat straighter) and packed up with vanilla sugar and cookie cutters and a gingerbread house kit for good measure.

Chocolate pretzels baked (Mama? Why you making those poos?)

But he ate enough of them once they'd been dipped in white chocolate and sprinkled.

The recipe was from the Better Homes and Gardens Christmas Cookies special (thanks Michelle!) . Call it a little Christmas gift from me to you to say thank you for stopping by here and leaving such lovely comments.CHOCOLATE PRETZELS1 2/3 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
1/8 tsp. salt
3/4 c. butter, softened
3/4 c. brown sugar, packed
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
Unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted

In a small bowl, combine flour, 1/2 c. cocoa powder, and salt. Set aside.

Beat butter and brown sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium speed until well combined. Add egg and vanilla and beat well. Add flour mixture, 1/3 at a time, beating on low speed until combined. Divide dough in half and wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 2 to 24 hours or until dough is easy to handle.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Remove one dough portion from refrigerator; keep remaining dough portion refrigerated. Divide the dough into 12 equal portions. Sprinkle work surface with sifted cocoa powder, repeating as needed. Roll each portion of dough into a 9 inch long rope on prepared surface. Twist into a pretzel shape and place on a cookie sheet, 1 inch apart.

Bake for 12 to 14 minutes or until just firm. Cool on the cookie sheet on a wire rack for one minute, and then transfer to to the wire rack to cool completely. Repeat this process with the remaining dough.

‘Tis the season to be Jealous

Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.

Why am I home with the bath bed boy routine and leftovers while Hubby is eating at Gordon Ramsay at Claridges tonight?


Oh the photo is theirs. When do you think my kitchen last produced something like that? Holey moley, sometimes I really miss corporate life.

Well, bits of it anyway. But I know you get all that family work life balance stuff. It's hard to put it into words, but Sooz has found the perfect analogy. And done it brilliantly. Go and read her post.

Tomte fabric

Yes, I spent a small fortune, but it was SO worth it. 

Design by Ruth Vetter: 'Tomtar'
 
Perhaps I'll even iron it.

Migration

Dallas sent me this lovely little embroidered bird recently.
It has nested on my bedroom door handle so I can see it when I wake each morning. It's the little things that make me happy.

Dallas's blog (Sallad.net) is one of the most cheerful places I visit . Do you ever label blogs in your head? My mental tags for you all include talented, funny, thought-provoking, visionary, savvy, self-aware, outrageous, genuine, beautiful, stylish - I could go on and on.

But apparently one of the words which comes to mind when you stop by here is 'nutty'.

Thanks for the award Kitty! And for her advent calendar story alone, I'm passing it on to Laura.

Preparations 7 - the Nativity

Johnny's preschool nativity was yesterday. I'd show you photos, but they all look like this (he's the snowflake on the far left).



The parental paparazzi were out in force snapping away in the non existent light trying to capture something. Sometimes I think it's better to forget the camera and be in the moment. The only in focus photo I achieved was the box of tissues thoughtfully provided by the nursery.



I helped myself, because I knew I'd need them. I cry at all Nativities, even those that don't involve any offspring of mine. Just show me a wonky tinsel halo and I'm off.

Gorgeous sunrises get me in the same way. Something about innocence and new beginnings I think. If I were Megan, I would be able to find something profound to say. But I'm not.



Happy weekend people.

Preparations 6 - letter to Santa

Raymond Brigg's 'Father Christmas' has a lot to answer for.

The antics of this off season Santa - a grumpy glutton who's catchphrase is 'Bloomin' Christmas' - have captivated my boys. So much so, that Mark's letter to Santa this year started with 'I hope you won't be too drunk to get here'.

This was the home version and not the one they were asked to write at school. He proudly informed me that one had gone on for two-and-a-quarter pages! I shudder to think. How did I breed such a consumer?


But at least he's hospitable. Because he's designed a sign to direct Santa to refreshments. As an 'in return' gift.

Preparations 5 - tree quest

It's Christmas here this Sunday. My in-laws arrive for their own personalized celebration and so all decorating deadlines are pushed forward by 10 days. Normally this would not be a problem. Hubby usually starts emptying the loft of all things festive on December 1st and begging shamelessly for me to put it all up. I agreed to do it this weekend, if they helped me clear up the house first (you may call it bribery, I call it incentive).

They whizzed around and soon all was ship-shape, so off the menfolk went to pick a tree.

The selection of our tree seems to appeal to some cave man instinct within them. They just love it, in the same way they hate almost all other forms of shopping. And without me grumbling away as the voice of reason, they get away with buying something that is really much too large for our hallway and has to be manoeuvred into the house in a kind of bizarre tribute to an episode of Monster Moves. Trees, Televisions, Trucks - bigger is always better in blokeworld.


But our favourite tree guy was SOLD OUT. On December 9th?? We are on a tree waiting list. I kid you not. Which means my new decorations are still homeless and my old friends still in boxes.

But on the plus side, I did get the marshmallows scraped off the baking trays and packaged up for Johnny's Montessori teachers.


And my Magimix is still functioning, although the whisk attachment will never be the same. But hey, it's all blog-fodder. Which is my new Zen approach for dealing with disaster and disappointment.

Costly cooking

Christmas cooking can be a costly business. Because I am not sure the whisk attachment of my Magimix was built to take the strain of a batch of homemade marshmallows. Halfway through, it started making a grinding of metal on metal noise and I had to finish off with the hand held beater. I'm too afraid to check if the damage is terminal.


Because, if it is, they may yet prove to be the most expensive marshmallows of all time. As I type, they are setting on a couple of baking trays. I also have my doubts about whether they will ever come off.


But the boys have pronounced them fabulous.

Or the mixture anyway. What's not to like about pure sugar with a touch of gelatin? Now excuse me while I try to clear up...

Rather odd meme

Recently, Joanna tagged me to do a seven things meme. I was trying to come up with something random, when I came across this at Pea Soup. It struck me as totally random, so I'm doing it instead. Rule bender? Me? Never.

What kind of soap is in your bathtub right now?
None! Before you faint with shock, we have a separate shower (which I prefer) so baths are strictly of the bubble variety only.

Do you have any watermelon in your refrigerator?
Er, no. And I didn't even have to check!

What would you change about your living room?
I'd have a wood burning stove in it.

Are the dishes in your dishwasher clean or dirty?
Dirty. It's not full.

What is in your fridge?
Gherkins, olives, 3 different jams, 3 different mustards, wine, milk, butter, wasabi, capers, pickled onions, ketchup, mayonnaise, miso paste, yoghurt, one sad lone jelly, innocent smoothies, wine, beers, bacon, broccoli, celery, carrots, beans, spring onion, red peppers, salad, cheese, anchovies, secret chocolate bar for emergencies, did I mention wine?

White or wheat bread?
Both, probably going mouldy. We waste a LOT of bread, because I only really like it very fresh.

What is on top of your refrigerator?
It's built in. Dirt probably.

What color or design is on your shower curtain?
Glass door, accessorized by unattractive limescale spots.

How many plants are in your home?
About a dozen. One is from a cutting given to me by a friend for my 21st birthday. Another is a cactus I inherited when another friend moved to Washington. He lives in Edinburgh now. I dread him returning to ask for it back, because I'm rather fond of it.

Is your bed made right now?
No - hubby's in it.

Comet or Soft Scrub?
Asteroid? Facial Wash? Que?

Is your closet organized?
Not too bad.

Can you describe your flashlight?
Black, lights up when you press the switch.

Do you drink out of glass or plastic most of the time at home?
Glass.

Do you have iced tea made in a pitcher right now?
No.

If you have a garage, is it cluttered?
Not so much cluttered as full, very full. No chance of getting a car in there!

Curtains or blinds?
Blinds in our bathroom since the lady who lives opposite phoned me up at 7am to tell me that the Builders next door had just watched me take a shower. Frosted schmosted.
Curtains elsewhere (but we only draw them upstairs really).

How many pillows do you sleep with?
One. It's a memory foam weird one. I like it.

Do you sleep with any lights on at night?
Nightlights in the boys' bedrooms.

How often do you vacuum?
Can I plead the 5th? When I can't ignore it any more. Or whenever hubby wears his stupid chenille socks which shed all over the carpet.

Standard toothbrush or electric?
Standard. My teeth just destroy toothbrushes, so I'm forever changing mine. Must be small head or I bang my gums and give myself ulcers.

What color is your toothbrush?
Pink and white. With orange rubber tongue cleaning ridges on the back. What a gimmick.

Do you have a welcome mat on your front porch?
We have a doormat, but it doesn't say welcome. In fact, some animal has been nibbling the corner of it, so I think it currently says 'unkempt'.

What is in your oven right now?
One of those mats which you can take out to rinse off the burnt on gunk. Ha ha ha - yeah, right.

Is there anything under your bed?
No (it's very close to the floor. On purpose, because otherwise I'd stiff all manner of rubbish under there. Glad you didn't ask about the spare bed.

Chore you hate doing the most?
Cleaning the oven. I discovered there are companies who will come to your house and do it for you though. How cool is that?

Do you have a separate room that you use as an office?
Yes - office come craft space. My lair. Mwa ha ha ha.

How many mirrors are in your home?
Nine. Now ask me if I glanced in even one before I left the house this morning.

What color are your walls?
Cream mainly. One green downstairs loo and one pale yellow living room which I'd prefer to be cream.

Do you keep any kind of protection weapons in your home?
My children?

What does your home smell like right now?
Home.

Favorite candle scent?
Very fussy about scented candles. Currently it's a winter spice number.

What kind of pickles (if any) are in your refrigerator right now?
I've already given you a far too detailed run down of the contents of my fridge. Weren't you reading properly before? Or is this just to catch me out?

Ever been on your roof?
No. What the hell would I want to do that for?

Do you own a stereo?
Yes.

How many TVs do you have?
One.

How many house phones?
Are you going to burgle me?

Do you have a housekeeper?
No. Well, me I suppose. But I'm not sure they took up my references before they employed me.

Is there a smoke detector in your home?
Several. Even one in the loft since our neighbours house burned down. Dodgy downlighters. And ours was built by the same developer. And has the same lights. Oh bugger, there goes another sleepless night.

In case of fire, what are the items in your house which you’d grab if you only could make one quick trip?
When we did have to evacuate (see above) we just grabbed a boy each. And then had soul searching discussions later about why Hubby had chosen the one he did first. So glad I was dashing up the stairs at the time shrieking 'get the kids' instead of having to choose which one.

Tagging? When you read these things, do you sit there reading and thinking 'Please don't tag me' or feel sad when you didn't get tagged? I just steal them shamelessly if I want to do one. Suggest you do the same.

The Good Life

Being a woman of mystery isn't my usual style. Time to come clean about my much anticipated day yesterday. I went to London to meet up with Alice of The Magpie Files. Which would have been enough excitement in its own right (especially as she had promised a visit to the Champagne Bar in the new St Pancras - the woman has style). But she had other plans up her sleeve too. After a quick stop at Liberty, we jumped on a bus and arrived here:

Any guesses yet? Perhaps this will help:



Persephone + fairy buns - it could only mean Jane Brocket of Yarnstorm. She was speaking at a Persephone Lunch about the domestic arts (knitting, crocheting, baking, quilting, a great deal of reading) as practised by her. And she made cupcakes (to match the books of course) for afternoon tea.

Jane is an amazingly gifted speaker and I was totally engaged (well, apart from the part of my brain that was busy wondering who the other people in the room were, because I had already spotted Julie Arkell and Janet Bolton in the audience). She brought along a load of her quilts, tea cosies and embroidery for us to see.

Perhaps it's only me, but it is so weird seeing in real life, something you've seen on a blog. New, yet familiar. Much the same as meeting bloggers in the flesh, which, in my experience, has never been anything other than delightful.

Alice and I made a new friend too (Hi Kristina!). She SO needs a blog, she knits, she sews, she bakes, she's charming. I've spoken before about my personal crusade to indoctrinate all crafty folk into the wonderful world that is blogging. Come on Kristina, dive in, the water's lovely.

And as we sat in the Champagne Bar of St Pancras, sipping our bubbly and nattering yarn, sewing, life and the universe. I had a moment of blinding clarity. Life is good, very good.

Pinny perfection

The slowness of the post across the pond forced Sarah to spill the beans about there being a little something headed my way, so I've been rushing to the door every time the postman's van appears. And here it is, proof that a watched pot sometimes boils, a perfectly gorgeous apron.

Sarah wouldn't have known that the colours of the flowers pick up the bluey tones of my kitchen cabinets and the tan, the floor tiles. Uncanny though isn't it? She has much better photos than mine - in fact, I had admired the apron when she posted about it, never thinking it was destined for my kitchen. Hell, it even matches my dishes, so I just had to show you.

Thank you friend. The other great thing about it is the enormous pocket, which is just what I need to stuff all my tissues in. I have the most stinking cold and I am cross about it, because I need to have lunch tomorrow. And taste cupcakes. And possibly drink Champagne. And not infect people. Damn. I'm being all secretive, but I am so looking forward to spilling the beans after the event.

Echinacea is my friend. And positive mental attitude. I do not have a cold, my nose is not streaming, I am healthy and not at all infectious.

Holiday Traditions Exchange

As much as I would love to claim 'being super-organized' as one of my Holiday Traditions, I feel it might be stretching the truth somewhat.

But I did manage to get my parcel for the Holiday Traditions Exchange posted off to Eren today.

Recently, I watched a documentary series called ' The Mummy Diaries'. It followed 5 families, where mothers had been diagnosed with forms of incurable cancer. As they struggled to prepare their children for the loss of a parent, the women were encouraged to write a Mummy Manual, covering all the details of domestic trivia which would be useful to their families in the future.

As you can imagine, it was harrowing viewing, but it did bring home to me how truly important our little rituals are to out families and how special a Mother's role as their caretaker can be.

So Eren, I hope you don't mind, but when I sent off your parcel, I made a copy of our Christmas Traditions for here too. Because some of them are silly and may make you chuckle, but to us, they are priceless.

Six sixes

I turned thirty six yesterday. Do you want to know the best thing about it? All year long, I've been thinking I was thirty six already. What a gift - an extra 365 days!



It made me think of my student days - I did a variety of part time jobs (supermarket shelf stacker, sweetie barrow salesgirl, contract dry stone walling, child minding, barmaid...) and when I got paid, I would put a £5 note in a random pocket of my clothing. I cannot tell you the you how much joy I generated for myself by coming across one unexpectedly during a lean week. Unexpected pleasures - they're the best.