Domesticali

Felt necklaces

In Loop last week, Kristina pointed out the Alchemy Silken Straw. Not a yarn I would usually have bought, because in spite of the glorious shades it comes in, it is jaw droppingly expensive and I can't wear silk clothing because it makes me pong like a polecat. But a skein came home with me because I really wanted to have a go at making the felt ball necklace I had seen over at The Purl Bee.

With the addition of one batch of repurposed felt balls (made as part of a garland last Christmas), and a few minutes gentle stringing, a necklace was hatched.

And it was so much fun that I made a second one too in a different style.

The felt balls are held by simply passing the silk through the ball a number of times to lock it in postition.

Couldn't be simpler, and used considerably less than a skein of hellishly expensive yarn. I may have to consider going into mass production, if another use for it doesn't present itself soon.

Take time

Contemplating the beginning of half term and the end of May and wondering how it slipped through my fingers so fast. Our perspective of time is often very skewed - the agony of watching the clock hands move through a double Maths lesson or the blink-and-it's-midnight sensation of a good evening out.

Tuesday was one of those speeded up days, but a glorious one, meeting Kristina for a coffee at the Nordic Bakery and then a scoot over to Loop.

To fondle the squishy yarns and loose ourselves in the woolliest of rainbows.

It was my first visit to Loop in it's new location (if you don't count the 5 minutes spent with my nose pressed up against the window the last time I passed by, finding it shut) and they've put their extra space to excellent use, with oodles of new temptation.

Resistance was futile, so despite the fact that I have two unfinished projects on the go, I succumbed.

Destined to become some new Toasty fingerless gloves (planning early for Autumn this year, clearly).

Then there was a walk through the perfect blue sky of the afternoon.

And somehow, even though the day flew and I had to scurry on home to pick up the boys from school, in the little spaces between the eating and shopping and chatting and wandering, there was time to rediscover a little bit of the essence of me that gets buried in the everyday bustle of life.

Misplacing that kernel always makes me feel inexplicably sad and adrift - I wish I understood better when and why it happens, or that I could find a safe spot for it, so it was always to hand. But then, I suppose I never have been a 'place for everything and everything in it's place' kind of person. And perhaps there's joy in the rediscovery of chancing upon it again.

Anyway, all I know is that it's back. And I'm grateful.

 

 

 

Laws of nature

If you buy too many of the first of the season's homegrown strawberries, you may need a vehicle for them.

In the battle of the recipe candidates, scones will always win.

They are also the finest excuse in the world for buying clotted cream.

The homemade strawberry jam ran out long ago. But it looks like the next batch may not be too far around the corner.

One-in, one-out

The principle of something in, something out seems, intuitively, to be a sound one. You know what I mean - if you wish to eat cake, you should probably move your backside from the sofa and expend some energy to compensate for it. When you buy new books, your shelves will thank you if you manage to pass on some of your old ones.

But I am at a loss to know what the universe requires me to part with in order to make space for  the milk glass cake plate that begged to come home with me this week.

 Does tossing three bags full of redundant summer clothing count? The purge felt really good, though the orderliness hasn't stopped me from feeling somewhat unsettled. There seems room in my days for more at the moment, I am just at a slight loss as to exactly what fills the odd shaped, term-time only, space. 

Because shopping, fun though it is, is not the answer.

 

Decorating inspiration

Much as I can admire a sophisticated neural palette and aspire to one of those pared down, Scandi-chic interiors, my reality could never live up to one. Because I am a sucker for the sheer joy that colour can give. Such exuberence, such energy.

And anyway, my children would out my true interiors inspiration

"Mummy! You've bought Teletubbies cups".

Unintentional, but clearly true. Sigh, so sophisticated.

Wedding weekend

That was a good wedding weekend, wasn't it? I didn't have huge plans - Hubs and the boys were headed off to Wales, camping. So I had a date with the sofa planned and then after the balcony moment, a whizz down on blissfully empty motorways, to visit my folks.

But clearly, more elaborate celebrations were happening everywhere. Fabulous Flowers had the most amazing floral bicycle basket going on. Actually, I could cheerfully photograph their shop window every week - their displays are so incredibly creative and joyful.

And my neighbours had rustled up the biggest Union Jack I have ever laid eyes on! Clearly they were celebrating on a grand scale.

But I was content to sit quietly, glued to the TV coverage, with my box of tissues by my side. Regardless of your position politically on the Monarchy, these are historical occasions and I feel honour bound to soak them up. I think it's probably hereditary.

When Charles and Di got married, my Dad had just relocated to Nigeria, but my Mother refused to fly out to join him until after she had seen the wedding. Similarly, for Andrew and Sarah, we returned to Saudi Arabia the very next day with all the comemorative newspapers and a video of the ceremony in the hand luggage, so all the poor folks on our compound who had missed it could see the wedding. Seems funny in these days of internet streaming - overseas seemed so much more remote then.

And given that we are all in a wedding mood, the winner of the Dorset Cereals giveaway - well, it had to be Nancy. It's hard to top her answer: 

Life's too short not to say Yes! when he asks you...or in my case "are you serious?! Ooooh yes!".

 Send me your address details Nancy - much cereal coming your way!