Domesticali

Papercutting at Ardington

The diary holds a surprising amount of power in this household for such an unassumingly slender volume. For once something goes in there, I feel honour bound to see it through. It's the place where holiday times are mapped out, weekends are given over to one sporting fixture or another, and nights out negotiated. Once something is 'in the diary' you can be pretty sure it is going to happen.

Flipping though the next few weeks, I find my stomach clenching in a tight knot. There's an awful lot that has to be shoehorned into the few remaining pages before the year is out. But that makes me even happier that last Thursday I had blocked out a whole day in the diary for something pleasurable.

Ardington School of Crafts opened in a former Victorian school building in a beautiful village not far from me, back in 2012. I have been meaning to attend one of their courses since then, but it has taken a while to find a pocket of time and an appealing course aligning - the stars came together on creative papercutting.

Of course, when it came to last week I was running around like a headless chicken, and if you had asked me if I had time to head off for a day of crafting, I would have laughed. Probably with a touch of manic hysteria. But the diary was in charge, so off I went.

And do you know, the world didn't come to an end because I took a day away from the usual. And I had the most wonderfully tranquil few hours just focusing on doing one thing. And focus you must, when there are wickedly sharp scalpels involved. Distractions are unhelpful when planning what bits of a design to slice into first. So the good coffee on tap and lunch thought about, provided and cleared up by somebody else were a godsend.

Have you heared of 'flow'? 

“The best moments in our lives are not the passive, receptive, relaxing times… The best moments usually occur if a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile.” ~ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Papercutting is not inherently difficult. It doesn't need loads of fancy tools or techniques. But there is nothing like it for feeling totally in the moment. And it was one to capture and remember - hence the papercut on the doily. Because sometimes, for a short and precious few moments, truly all IS calm. Perhaps next year I need to plan for more of those moments.

Actually come to think of it, the lovely people at Ardington are thinking of having open studio time next year, when you can work on your own projects in their wonderful surroundings. And that truly would be worth putting in the diary.

Lunar moments

In my experience, kids school holiday projects usually develop along these lines.

Child is set project for the holidays.

Parent's heart sinks, but hides true feelings behind rigid mask of enthusiastic support. Child has idea for project. Idea becomes more and more inflated (large/expensive/intellectually challenging). Parent knows the huge idea is doomed to failure and suggests a smaller scale. Child gets the hump because parent is being negative and throws a wobbly. Project becomes taboo subject. Holiday moves onwards. Parent in a state of vague anxiety about project, child appears oblivious. Eventually parent cracks and tentatively raises the subject of the project again. Child has totally different idea to the one that it had in the first place and the cycle potentially begins again until the very end of the holiday when the parent throws a wobbly and the child completes something in the remaining time, with the minimum of effort and a certain amount of bad grace.

Or maybe that's just how it goes round here. Can you tell I am not an enthusiastic supporter of the holiday project?

So when Johnny turned up at the end of last term with a sheet requesting a 3D science model on the theme of Space, my heart sank.

But this time I had to eat my words, because we had a great time with it! Who knew a papier mache and polyfilla moon model could be such a bonding experience? Here it is, in orbit on our washing line.

Turns out that space had a lot of lessons to teach me this month. Because I also read and loved Chris Hadfield's  'An Astronauts Guide to Life on Earth'. You know him - the guy who made all those compelling videos from the ISS? I don't think he'd be filled with trepidation at the thought of  a school holiday project.

 

Written in the stars

The occasions when one of my offspring approaches and asks to do a craft project are rare round these parts. But very welcome. So when Mark wanted to make a Galaxy shirt, I was in the cupboard rooting out the fabric paint faster than a ferret up a drainpipe.

I even managed to keep my control freak tendencies under control for long enough to let him do his own project himself with minimal interference. And believe me, that's nothing short of a cosmic miracle.

All things new

Seeing the newness of nature bursting out all over always feels like a call to action. Time to fling open the doors and emerge from winter hibernation. There has been much junk purging from the house, with a dozen or so bags heading off to the charity shop and the textile recycling place. Feels like we have space to breathe a little easier.

Mental clutter is somewhat harder to shed. I've been desperate to just achieve some clear headspace and so I did a very brave thing and booked my first ever facial. What a revelation that was - how have I wasted all these years being intimidated at the thought of going? It was bliss on a heated water mattress. I'm going back again. As frequently as possible. 

But although relaxation and pampering is wonderful, it is an interlude in the stuff of daily life. It can't become life (well, not on planet me, anyway). There needed to be something absorbing to focus on to take my mind off the other stuff. Making things is usually the trick, but I was in a bit of a creative lull. Knitting didn't appeal - leaves too much time for thought. Nothing needed to be made. 

And then I came across the line drawing with Lisa Congdon course on Creativebug. It was only $10 to subscribe for a month and you can take as many classes as you like during your subscription period. Drawing has proven to be the perfect thing for achieving flow. Relaxing, yet absorbing enough to stop the intrusion of unwanted thoughts. And while I've been browsing the other courses on there, I've learned how to make a rope bowl and done some packing tape transfers as well as practicing my drawing. I'd say that was $10 pretty well spent.

And I am feeling a little more tranquil and optimistic. In honour of the temperature reaching 15 degrees, I ordered sandals - silver saltwaters. The mere thought of wearing them makes me happy.

The silver loo downstairs is full of pussy willow from last weekend's tree pruning. I read that if you put in in a vase without any water, it enters a form of suspended animation and will last indefinitely. We shall see.

I'm hoping my lighter mood is also here to stay. A bit of sushine and some making are always good medicine.

Dino Dental Aid

Oh Pinterest, how I love thee. Because it is only through you that I could possibly ever hit on the perfect time filler for a rainy day, alone with younger offspring, on which I had rashly banned all screen time.

Why wouldn't you drill a hole in a plastic dinosaur and call it a toothbrush holder? Who knew my house needed such a thing? Only you Pinterest.

Fabric entomology

My resolution this year was to curb my magazine puchasing habit. And I have been really doing very well, until I read a review of Crafty Magazine and stumbled upon it in the newsagents.

See that title font - somehow reminiscent of Blueprint (still miss that magazine), add in red converse, and bandanas - breaking my resolution seemed a foregone conclusion.

But in my defence, I have at least used the purchase to kick start a little creativity. There was an article about making a cabinet of curiosities full of fabric insects. Now I have a soft spot for bugs on pins - I studied quaternary entomogy way back in the dim and distant past, when my brain cells were still firing - and spent many hours hunched over a microscope, teasing out bugs from soil samples and attempting to identify them.

The thought of fantastical fabric versions called to me.

So I raided the scrap box and got into moth mode.

My specimen cabinet is underway.

 

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!

It's good to join in

By now, you might already have read about the Red Nose Day Dolls project in aid of Comic Relief.

I'm so happy to be able to help Emma and Ros with some Lavender Cloud Pillows for the dolls to rest their sleepy heads on after a busy day. Hopefully there will be no squabbling about who gets which one!

Details of the auction  are on the dolls' Facebook page - bidding begins March 7th!

And Mac - the flannel tartan might just have your name on it! All campers know your own pillow makes all the difference to in-tent comfort.

 

Groundhog day

Weren't we here last week? Beautiful sunrises and sick children. Well, we're re-living the experience.

I am feeling slightly caged beast-ish, but on the plus side, even if I haven't been able to head out to get anything done in the big wide world, I have at least been cracking on with a few projects at home which I wanted to finish. Two, I can't show you, but this one, I can.

For some years now, I have been slightly obsessed with Debbie Smyth. I saw her work with pins and thread in an embroidery magazine first, then in the flesh, and at the Knit and Stitch show this year, she was installing a piece, so I got to watch her in action and was captivated. I think it taps into some childhood memory of string art pictures and I have been meaning to have a go at my own version for a long time.

There's nothing like being confined to home to get me going. Some foam core, straight pins, thread tweezers, masking tape and computer word art print outs and all was good to go.

I printed out my chosen words using an outlined dotted line on my chosen font, which made it easier to space the pins evenly. The paper templates got masking taped to some foam core and I got stuck in with pinning. This takes a lot of pins - pretty much a whole tub for six letters. Surprisingly, it didn't take as much thread as I thought. But it is a great project if you have a load of not very good quality thread. Because a bit of bunching, knotting and textural fuzz all adds to the overall look of things.

The thread wrapping part was my favourite bit - a little bit random, not too neat. Meditative crafting at its best. The tweezers really helped with the fiddly bits too. A word of advice - if you have a shape within the letter (the holes in my g, for example), it is much easier to pin and wrap the inner shape, then place the pins for the outer shape. Gives you a little more space to work.

And when the whole thing was done, I thought I could just tear away the paper and be good to go. Well, yes, in theory. But in practice, it seems standard copy paper is much tougher than it looks and it took a long time and a great deal of care to get rid of the paper without dislodging the pins.

Chanelling my inner nordic self, turned out to be a much better idea than going for the 14 letter extravaganza that is Merry Christmas.

I love the way it looks and would really like to make more - different threads, playing with colours, being more spontaneous with how I place the pins. There are so many things that would be fun to explore. If my current run of luck continues, I might just have the opportunity too!

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.

A little stitching

My reading glasses are lost and have been for about a year, I think. It didn't seem like a great tragedy - I hated wearing them anyway. Mostly because I had to take off my normal glasses to do so and was thus rendered mole like if I needed to look at anything more than a foot away. I know this is why bi-focals were invented, but my optician said I was too young to go there (hey, I take my compliments where I find 'em). And most of the time, slightly fuzzy near sight isn't too much of an issue. I only got the glasses because at the time, I was working in very poor light and getting cracking headaches using a screen at an awkward distance away.

But finding them would definitely make cross stitch easier. Because in theory, sitting with one's hoop sounds like a meditative and relaxing activity. But in practice has involved much tutting, sighing, and strategic positioning of backlights.

Still, my version of The Guardian is done. Yes, there are two errors (which Hubby irritatingly spotted), but I'm counting on the fact that with no reading glasses to help me, I'll probably never notice them again. 

I am really taken with the idea of cross stitch in a single colour on interesting coloured Aida - this one is Misty Blue and I got it from Ray Stitch. I think I have the perfect spot for it, come the season...

Wise Owls

Friends of ours have welcomed a new baby into their family this week. I had a sneek peek of his/her nursery prior to the big arrival and there was a fab tree mural complete with mummy, daddy and baby owl. So I thought a matching banner (made from this tutorial at Moonstitches) might be in order.

The only thing was I had to wait to make it until the baby's name was revealed. And hooray for a short one - done and dusted in no time!

Return of the makies*

*makies: urge to make things

Saturday was a Thelma and Louise day. A chance to blow off all maternal responsibilities and escape to the Festival of Quilts with Monica. When the boys were little, days like this were so vital to retaining sanity - a shining beacon in the diary - the promise of an adult oriented day. I always returned from them feeling enormously energized because I had the chance to actually think and focus on something other than small children without being interrupted.

The boys may be much bigger now. But even though my duties as playmate, nose-wiper and drinks fetcher are vastly reduced, it seems I still sometimes need a block of head-space in order to focus on things other than the immediate requirements of domestic life. And good shopping opportunities don't hurt either.

Wiksten Tank (made before the holidays began) and sari silk plaited necklace.

Not that this is some sort of epic project requiring intense concentration to execute, you understand. But just because it is easy to forget the boost that the tiniest piece of creativity can provide. And now, I need to go and play Gogos.

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. 

Vanilla Stitching

Sewing is sometimes about the end product and sometimes about the process. Sitting with a little gentle stitching in hand allows for relaxation and conversation, whilst still retaining a sense of productivity.

And so it was that I gave in to temptation at The Shop at Number 57 recently and ordered a cross stitch kit. Because cross stitching is the ultimate in vanilla stitching. Repetitive following of instuctions. Sometimes decision making can be so over-rated.

And I like it so much in its hooped simplicity, that I have decided to mount it like that. Both to enjoy it as a finished object and as a subliminal reminder of the pleasures of keeping one's hands occupied. 

A little flat

There is a custom at the boys' school for taking in a little treat of the cake variety to share with your classmates on your birthday. Johnny's usually falls during half term, but rather than miss out, I thought they could be a cheering treat for back to school.

It was only as I was getting them out of the oven that I realized that taking cakes in on the first day of Lent probably isn't my finest hour, timing-wise. Oops.

They weren't my finest batch of cakes either. I'm blaming it on the February blahs. But it's nearly March. Spring is just round the corner, so I am attempting to chanel my negativity into getting ready for it. I've cleared out the cupboard under the sink, the airing cupboard and purged one wardrobe.

And during the purging, I was thinking about only surrounding yourself with things that make your heart glad. Life is too short to be confronted on a daily basis by things which make us feel grey. The spaces that make my heart lift are the ones full of tiny touches - where nothing is so insignificant that it cannot be sprinkled with a little care and cheer.

And so some of our wire coathangers got the joy treatment by covering them with fabric. It's so simple - just a little bit of double sided sticky tape and a torn strip of scrap fabric wound round and round. Is it a transformative change? Not a big one. But they do make me feel the tiniest bit brighter.

Busy hands

During periods of anxiety, it helps me to keep busy. Preferably small things, with instant gratification involved. Because when you are waiting on big things which are out of your control, it's good to go for a little contrast.

Mark is in the midst of entrance exams. I have made a dozen felt rings. Including the one that disintegrated when trimmed too much before it was properly felted and the one that has mysteriously disappeared (looks suspiciously at the cat).

I used to think I was quite good at handling pressure. Seems that's only true when I have some element of control over the outcome. I'm off to hunt down some more scraps of wool.

 

Pom pom plum pudding tutorial

Johnny has been more than a little obsessed with pom poms recently. His textiles teacher had the children making them old style - with little cardboard doughnuts, and he was so pleased with his. So a little project to make use of his poms seemed in order.

A little plum pudding pom pom.

To make one, you'll need a lovely brown pom pom - how you make it is up to you. Here's a tutorial for the 'wrapped round fingers' method and one for the 'classic cardboard doughnut' style. The latter is highly desireable if you want to keep small childen occupied for a good long while. Johnny's teacher clearly understands how best to achieve a quiet interlude in her schedule.

When you tie the wool around the centre of your pom pom, leave a good long tail. You will need this to make the rest of the plum pud.

We took a red button and a piece of white felt, cut freehand into a vaguely circular, wiggly edged shape. 

Using the long tail from your pom pom. sew up though the middle of your white felt shape and through the  holes of the button, making a couple of passes to secure them well. We also tied on a tiny scrap of green wool, to look like holly leaves. Done.

Our plum puddings are going to be tied on to bags of Christmas cookies as teacher presents this year. I know it seems early to think of these things, but my offspring break up on December 10th. Aaaaargh. We may well  require more than a cardboard doughnut or two to keep them calmly occupied between then and Christmas....

Follow your nose

Hacking away at the buddleia which will not die the other day, I sniffed something on the breeze. And following my nose, found my neighbour shearing her lavender bush. Straight into the compost bin. No no nooooo! She looked rather oddly at me as I begged for her garden waste, but handed it over all the same.

And so was born a little shoal of lavender fish. Thereby scratching my creative itch, justifying my Pinterest habit and breaking the sewing drought round these parts.

Plus my wardrobe could do with a little sprucing and pruning. And having a good smelling shoal to pop on the hangers might just inspire me to do something about it. The Changing Room helps too - a safe little corner of Flickr which encourages me to confront the reality of how I dress. In the anticipation that what we pay attention to, we tend to improve on.

Because left to my own devicies, I don't really pay much attention to the reality in the mirror. Or the mirror at all, really. One drunken student evening, my pals gave me some extra bushy eyebrows with a marker pen. They had to confess around 3pm the following day, because I still hadn't looked at my own reflection and noticed. I'd like to think that things would be different nowdays, but perhaps not.

So, what is your Autumn wardrobe crying out for? Do you think a spell in the changing room is in order?

Not pinning, but doing

Ah Pinterest, I do adore you. So neat and tidy, so full of inspiration. When I click that 'Pin It' button, there's a little thrill, like the one I'd imagine shopping addicts feel as they approach the cash register. I watch my boards fill up - Halloween, Christmas, things I might make someday.

Ah, there lies the rub - I'm pinning like crazy but not following through. And when Nancy looked at one of my pins and actually acted on the inspiration, I had an epiphany. There's not much point in pinning, if it doesn't lead to action. So I too, made customized tape (inspired by here).

In fact, once I got going, I made tape out of any interesting paper I could get my hands on - security envelopes, old road atlas maps, sheet music, even my redundant car tax disc. I made so much tape, I had plenty to share. Now I just need to use it. Because there's not much point in making, unless you make use of the finished article.

Here's to following through on our very best intentions.

Free plums and a dollop of art

The hedgerows behind our house are teeming with little wild plums at the moment.

They seem early this year. But made for a good crumble. Pretty much my only contribution in the kitchen this weekend, as I've been volunteering at Art in Action.

Beautiful, beautiful setting.

Some old favouries amongst the artists - Sarah Morpeth.

Roanna Wells (first encountered at the Knitting and Stitching Show last year).

 And the joy of watching people create.

But I'm tired out and in need of a nice cup of tea and perhaps, if I'm very lucky, there might be a bowlful of leftover crumble  in the fridge.

Loose ends

Amazing how knowing you have less than two weeks left of the children being in school focuses the mind.

So there has been progress on the UFO pile. Starting with some loose ends. These have been waiting for me since about Christmas, all because I couldn't put my hands on my yarn needle with the really big eye. Thankfully, it turned up this week.

So it was possible to sew in the ends of the seriously chunky yarn, made from recycled tshirts. I've been squirrelling away the worn out ones (with no side seams) for some time. To make yarn, you just cut a strip, spiralling your way round the body of the shirt, and pull on it which makes the sides curl in. Google will provide a tutorial if you need one, I'm sure.

I had plans for a bathmat, knowing the tshirt yarn would be super absorbant. What I didn't know is that one tshirt would yield only about 4 inches of knit bathmat. I had nowhere near enough yardage. Plus it is incredibly stiff stuff to knit with and hard on the hands. So serious design modifications were called for.

The finished bathmat has tshirt yarn either end, with the middle being Rowan Cotton Tape in two colours held double. Kristina gave me this yarn years ago - it became a table runner and a wrap which never worked out and was frogged for my bathmat. Which did work out. Even if it took me about 7 months to get around to weaving the ends in.

Not perfectly blocked, as you can see. But when it's raison d'être is to be stood on with wet little feet, there really didn't seem too much point in being pedantic about it.

Finished is good enough.

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.

Spring creativity

Oh that was a good Saturday. Even if it did mean leaping out of bed at normal midweek hour to scamper off to pick up Monica and then drive towards the big smoke. See, we had a special day at Kristina's organized. A day with Val and Tracy too, learning new crafty tricks from Emma of Silverpebble. 

I've always loved the things Emma makes (especially this one), but I had no idea that she was such a jewellery making tutor extrordinaire. She allowed us to rifle through all her treasures (housed in the cutest little patty pan tins) and showed us how to bend wire and headpins and then let us run riot.

Having never tried beading before, I didn't know what to expect, but I think I might be investing in some teeny pliers and cutters. Because it was seriously good fun. The quirkier items called to me most.

The little bone bead reminds me of a tooth. And the twirly squirly wire pin just called to me.

Who could resist the teeniest of tiny silver keys and a bead with words (especially one which spells out 'very bad word')

And continuing along the key theme, a pendant with button, key and the most beautifully subtle Egyptian faience beads.

Difficult to remember when I was last so thrilled with the results of a morning's work. And there was more fun to be had as we headed off to lunch at Petersham.

Yummy food and much chatter and hooting laughter. It honestly doesn't really get any better. How lucky I am to count these women as friends.

Collage Talker Tutorial

Mark is a big fan of the Post-it note. I often find little messages scattered around the house, asking me not to turn off the DVD player (so he doesn't loose his place in a movie) or reminding himself to take something to school for a friend. But his bedroom door was becoming a war zone of sticky notes. Mainly banning his brother from doing various things in there.

Clearly, the door needed a more elegant solution. One using a simple collage of picture and speech bubble with a plastic coating, which means it can act as a write-on wipe-off message board. And it's a great project for kids to tackle all by themselves.

How d'you do it?

• Choose a picture (from a catalogue or magazine or a photograph) and trim it to an appropriate size.
  
  
• Cut a speech bubble from plain paper.
  
  
• Layer them together and either run them through a laminating machine, or place them in a clear contact paper sandwich.
  
  
• Trim the plastic, making sure you leave a border round the paper elements.
  
  
• You can now write on your Talker with a felt tip or a dry erase pen. And just wipe it off when you have something new to say.

Somehow, when the Queen's Corgi gives a reminder, it seems a little bit less like nagging.

Kids Crafternoon: Papercraft

Sometimes things don't seem real until you can see them. But seeing this cover has made me all excited all over again.

Kids Crafternoon: Papercraft is coming out at the beginning of July and I have a couple of projects in it. 

And it is just KILLING me not to have seen the book in the flesh as yet. Patience has never been my strongest point - perhaps that's why I like making things with paper. Speedy results.

Pitching ideas for the projects in the book was one of the most fun things I've done in ages. I came up with a big long list of possibilities - some of which didn't make the editorial cut. So I'm going to share a couple of those with you as tutorials instead - just in time to keep the kids busy over the Easter holidays. 

 

Back to black

Today was set aside for dyeing. I've been collecting fabric to make into scarves  - some jersey, some cotton voile. Lovely colours, but all very bright. I thought I might overdye some of each to tone down the colours a smidgen and give me a little scarf variety - I had plenty of yardage, after all. So last time I was in town, I picked up some Dylon. Read the instructions, weighed the fabric, popped it in the machine.

Waited with excitement. There is no after photo. I seem to have dyed the whole lot jet black. Along with the rubber seal on my washing machine. Not my finest crafting day.

Partying

Making merry with the six and seven-year-old crowd today. Johnny doesn't officially turn seven till next week, but he was sharing his celebrations with a friend and this weekend fell conveniently between their birthdays.

The whole shared party thing is not something we've ever done before. Mark enjoyed his own moment in the limelight far too much to ever consider it and I was always concerned that my own party control-freak tendencies would not allow me to play nicely in the planning of such an undertaking. But then Johnny is a very different kettle of fish.

Being the centre of attention is a form of torture for him and so I swallowed my own concerns and he and his pal cooked up a request for an indoor play centre party. Which I have to say, turned out to be a very fine thing indeed.

Not least because I got to do the invitations. Using a homemade rubber stamp - inspired by this tutorial.

And make them  cupcakes as well, with a little co-ordinating pennant set for each birthday boy, cut from the insides of the security envelopes I have been squirreling away.

And the other Mum smiled indulgently at my boy's wishes for moustache straws (which I made from instructions found here, taken from this brilliant book).

 
United in a hatred of party bag bin-fodder, we opted for brightly wrapped books instead, with a little sweetie treat tied on.

The boys and their friends all had a great time, with no tears or squabbles or misbehaviour from anybody.

And even better, I was allowed to do all the fun bits which I love and someone else was hugely appreciative that I had done them. Turns out that it's really good to share!

And thanks for sharing your kindness with me on the last post - you guys were right - a glass of wine and a hot bath restored all sense of perspective. But sometimes we need to hear that sensible advice from friends. Thank you.

 

Paper pinecones

There seems no end to my love of things made from upcycled books -  can't resist the urge to chop them up. And also to read snippets of sentences as I use them, which is sometimes a truly bizarre experience. 

See, I just couldn't get the image of these out of my head. They were speaking to me of pinecones. So I punched a load of small circles out of a hapless book and used sewing pins to fasten them onto a polystyrene ball. And my paper pinecone itch was scratched. I may try a few more (right after I buy another tub of pins).

 

Emerging

Thankfully, today we find ourselves on in the far side of seven days spent at home with a poorly Johnny. He had a mystery virus with recurring fever which scuppered all kinds of plans round here - for him and for me. But I'm refusing to dwell on what we missed and focussing instead on the opportunities for making that house arrest presented.

Balls! Of the felt and wire variety, which Emma quite correctly guessed are destined for a festive garland.

And in other news, Nichola, you are the winner of the Edie Sloane giveaway, you lucky duck.

So many reasons to feel cheerful today. Anything gone well for you?