Domesticali

The Laundry Donkey

Quick, quick, there's a donkey in my utility room. Really.

Can't you see him? Try here.

That's me, the laundry donkey. I daren't even count the number of loads a week, but it's obscene. Good thing I like pegging it out. And now, thanks to Trashy I like being in the utility room too.  Not everyone has original art in there y'know - we're classy (as well as being good at getting our clothes dirty).

Nice idea....

Sometimes, I see something and just know straight away that it's 'my kind of thing' and I scrabble around in my bag to capture it in a notebook before the germ of the idea gets lost. Of course, when I saw these beautiful crochet necklaces from Wren handmade, the best thing to have done would have been click on the Etsy button. But I just couldn't - they were a significant amount of money. But I WANTED one, dammit.

There was only one solution. I would have to learn to crochet. Luckily, Monica offered to teach me.  And immediately she had, I went and purchased a crochet hook so small that it looked like a dental instrument and some perle cotton. And then some kind of woolly darning thread turned up at the charity shop and seemed appropriate. So I began turning out teeny tiny crochet circles.

And then putting them on a long chain of more teeny tiny woolly crochet. And I did make a necklace.

But it didn't hang properly. The woolly thread refused to lie flat with no weight on the chain to pull it taut. Just like Monica warned me. Why can't I listen sometimes?

So insead I have a crochet bracelet. Which pleases me, but not nearly as much as the necklaces I originally saw.

Rats. I hate it when my skills set fails to live up to the picture in my head.

Youthful vanity

Today was my book group meeting - we were discussing Somewhere Towards the End, a memoir from Diana Athill dealing with growing old. One of her quotes really struck me:

'Appearance is important to old women, not because we suppose it will impress other people, but because of what we ourselves see when we look in the mirror'

It can't only be my wardrobe that contains 'happy clothes' and things I pull out when I'd really like to crawl beneath the nearest rock. But recently, my personal vanities have centered more around hair and scent.

Scent, because the perfume I have relied upon to lift my spirits has been discontinued. Origins Fretnot. I'm sure it's the power of suggestion, but when the box says 'In times of confusion and concern, let nature's aromatic cheerleaders, including perky Tangerine, Orange and Lemon, rally your spirits and motivate your mood' you can't fail to feel uplifted.

I'm loyal to my perfume - pretty much a one scent at a time girl. Begining with Anais Anais (a gift from my brother when I was about 15) and phasing through Obsession, Chanel No19,  Floris Malmaison and Eau Dynamisante. I didn't wear perfume at all when the boys were babies, but when I got back on the wagon, that Origins did it for me.

Being without a current fragrance leaves me slightly adrift - shopping the perfume counters is too much like speed dating - overwhelming and unsatisfying. It seems I need to encounter the right choice rather than seek it out. And perhaps it is this. Madonna of the Almonds.

Last night, Marina Fiorato had a return visit to the shop to read from her second novel, Madonna of the Almonds .  As part of the marketing for the book (which is set in in 16th century Italy and was inspired by the back of an Amaretto bottle!), Marina had the opportunity to develop a perfume with Floris. I found the whole idea of that, totally fascinating and had asked her about it the last time she came. So I was thrilled when this visit, she brought a sample. It's good. It may be the one.

And my other current vanity? Hair. I have vaguely curly hair which  is generally stuck, still wet from the shower, up in a clip and ignored. But the recent discovery of (whisper it) a patch of suspicious silvery members of the follicle gang has prompted action. I don't think I'll ever be committed enough to my appearance to contemplate colouring it. Too much upkeep. But perhaps I ought to have a final fling of enjoying my hair, before I go grey gracefully. So it's off to the hairdressers tomorrow.

Don't know exactly what to ask for - do you think 'something to savour the last moments of youth' is sufficient guidance?

Boyhood

We were in the kitchen, clearing up after lunch on Sunday. Mark was out and about on his bike and Johnny had disappeared off to play next door. And hubby turned to me in the quietness and asked 'Is this what it's going to be like from now on?'. And I suspect it is.

So those precious moments, when they are happy to mess about with me in the garden or will accompany me to 'The Tiger who Came to Tea' and lunch at a noodle bar, well, I intend to grab them with both hands.

Thanks for the tip off about the show, Elaine - it really was fantastic.

Chop chop

In danger of succumbing to a new obsession.
 
And no, it isn't ironing.

Weekend sewing

Perhaps I'd more accurately entitle this post Monday cutting, Tuesday bias tape making, Wednesday bodice, Thursday Sleeves, Friday hemming and Saturday photoshoot. Not as catchy, but more truthful. I am not a speedy garment sewer.

But it was high time for a  first attempt at a pattern made from Heather Ross' book - because although it's eye candy in it's own right, it's good to actually complete a project from a book every now and again. I have to remind myself of this, each time my fingers itch to bring home a new one.

One of my favourite things about our blog community is the ability to learn from others, and there was no shortage of posts on the summer blouse I planned to make. So I knew to lengthen the body (thanks to Erin) and to open up the neckline (thanks to Ashley). The dangers of the pyjama look (thanks to simply h) and that it looks wonderful in a very lightweight cotton (thanks to Amanda). I was all set to go.

My trial run, in inexpensive fabric. Because I was very unsure after the Japanese dress experience, that I would manage to set in a sleeve in a way that allowed me to move my arms.

Mercifully, my arms can move freely in all the directions nature intended. Look, I can smell the lilacs in my pretty shirt. Even if my neighbour thinks I am gardening in my pyjamas (again). I guess you can be told things, but sometimes you need to experience them for yourself to really learn the lesson!

Posy

Saturday papers and a posy picked proudly from the garden by Johnny. 

The weekend is the perfect time to explore future career options, don't you find? Floral designers, watch out.

And thanks so much for the votes - you're stars! I think I'm currently third. The egg-cosy is in sight...

Little Blog Awards

There was a happy e-mail today from the nice folks at Dorset Cereals. My blog has been nominated for their little blog awards. How exciting. I don't know quite why the prospect of winning one of those cute egg cosies appeals to me so much, but it does.

So, click the egg-cup to pop on over and vote, and you could win yourself a crate of their cereal. Which is very yummy. Especially the kids variety, which comes with super-cool paper automata projects inside the box. Creativity at breakfast-time. I'm all for it!

Catherine Rayner

My personal favourite children's book of the moment  is Augustus and his Smile. Even if it does give me a huge lump in my throat every single time I read it out loud.

Augustus the tiger was sad. He had lost his smile. So he did a huge tigery stretch and set off to find it.

The tale of a tiger, who looses his smile and then finds it again. I love it for it's message of finding happiness in the everyday. I can't think of a lesson I would rather my boys learned. And when they can do so, with lyrical language that is a joy to read out loud and wonderfully nuanced illustrations, it's even better. 

Catherine Rayner, the author and illustrator came to give a talk at the bookshop last night. She brought her sketchbooks - I could happily have spent days looking through them and listening to her speak about the process of bringing an illustrated book into the world. There is a great interview with her here,  along similar lines.

Joy is a very precious commodity, and there is nothing better than to come across somebody whose work simply oozes with it.

A day of one's own

Bank Holiday weekend, no offspring. Did you get the full significance of that statement? The sweet scent of freedom on the breeze. The boys went to Wales with our friends and their caravan. And me? Well, I did work on Saturday, but Sunday was mine all mine.

So I got up at the crack of dawn and went to meet Kristina at Columbia Road Flower Market. I would show you artful photos of the flowers, but quite frankly, all mine look like this.  It truly isn't the place to be if crowds of people freak you out.

It's a miracle that I managed to find Kristina at all. But she very wisely suggested meeting outside a cupcake shop, Treacle. And I can sniff out a cupcake at 50 yards. Even if they were trying to camouflage themselves in the grass.

We mooched, nattered about floral preferences, ate cupcakes and did a spot of shopping - here, amongst other places.

By an amazing stroke of luck, I also bumped into Jessie Chorley - whose altered book workshop I went to last year. She has a new shop on Columbia Road, but it was shut in preparation for their grand opening. Apart from being a talented artist, she clearly has the memory of an elephant, because she recognized me and gave us a sneaky preview of her new space, which is the most atmospheric treasure trove of a place. And provides me with the perfect excuse for retuning to the area soon.

And another spot that warrants a re-visit was the V&A Museum of Childhood in Bethnall Green, a short stroll away. Walking through London always gives me the greatest pleasure - the streets you never see on the bus or the tube.  Imagining the lives within.

And the museum was so much fun - even without small people in tow. There's a Quentin Blake and Roald Dahl exhibition on at the moment and some groovy kitchen chandeliers in the entryway.

I think the boys would love it (particularly the case full of vintage Scalextric). Perhaps I'll take them. After I've scrubbed the camping mud off.