Sunday, 29 June 2014

a granny blanket...

Finally finished my first ever granny blanket, I'm pretty fond of it , as it holds a lot of love and hard work weaved into each square.

I kind of feel it's significant to have finished it today, its been piled in the work basket for an age, but this morning I woke up and thought its time to get it done. It's been cathartic.

Thanks for your kind words on my last post,  you are all right of course, that in, this instance, its best to do nothing, for now, at least. I have some thoughts as to what it is that's making me wobble, and its only a problem if I allow it to become one.  So as from now I am not going to let such thoughts manipulate my thinking.  I'm going to knit and stitch and create instead .... be gone nagging gloomy thoughts....  and if my dream was a message I am listening..... 

happy sunday

I have a home made dress in mind and a visit hopefully to the seaside am a little excited, and a little scared.

Saturday, 28 June 2014

some day, sometime...

last night I dreamt I found a nest.
I was walking along a lane and there in the lane was a nest, it was intricate and beautiful and inside was one beautiful blue egg.

I thought that the egg was old and barren and contained no life, but as I held it in the palm of my hand it began to crack open

inside was a beautiful yellow bird.


I'm feeling unsettled again, as if the scales are shifting, something is out of kilter.

They say you should look closely, open your eyes, and then open your eyes again, that you are given signs and its up to you if you take notice, or just ignore them.

Do you ever feel that your subconscious is trying to tell you something?


Saturday, 21 June 2014

Solstice blessings

Go wear flowers in your hair, dance and make merry 
happy solstice

Thursday, 19 June 2014

la petite cage à oiseaux

Since the bedroom swap around, to be honest we have been living in a right old mess up stairs.  I dismantled all the hideous Ikea wardrobes a while back and since then we have slowly but surely sunk into oblivion.  As these things tend to happen creeping up on you whilst you are sleeping, and before you know it your wading through your entire wardrobe, just to climb into bed each night.

I have plans, oh yes big plans, putting these plans into practice however, when you work full time and the sun is shining, and your carpets have forgotten what the hoover looks like, is another matter.


the attic room is nearly finished and youngest will soon be shifting her belongings up the wooden hill, hopefully before this week is out.

and then....
oh yes dear readers, then we will begin on my bedroom. (ours...! cough, cough)

It started out as quite a minimal plan as plans go, I think, influenced by the wardrobe wading each morning and the gigantuous amount of stuff that is all around my present makeshift bedroom.  I cannot bear it any longer, to go to sleep and wake up with clutter, oh my giddy aunt it is no good for the Chi, it really is not.

So minimal it is was going to be.

Initially we were going to have the patchwork wallpaper wall, but on reflection it had to go, as in when, I found the vintage wallpaper at the Jumble the other week, two beautiful, lovely rolls of it.

At first it was just going to be Mary and the wallpaper, and the bed, that was it.....but you know me I don't do minimal terribly well ...even with the best intentions.

*Mary and the Wallpaper*

So, the wallpaper, Mary, the bed...... and the little frame from a church somewhere, the kind that has the three apostles or saints in it, that no-longer has any apostles or saints in it, as they were lost many years ago, that I found at the car boot, which I will find new pictures for.

and that was that


la petite cage à oiseaux......

Oh my,

vintage ditsy wallpaper, Mary, the bed, the frame from a church somewhere
la petite cage à oiseaux......

just think I can lie in bed and see the rose on its bottom.


Wednesday, 11 June 2014

the beekeepers quilt

I cannot tell you how much I am in love with my small, yet quite significant beekeepers quilt thus far.  When I can, I build myself a little nest, surround myself with all the things I need, so as not to be disturbed, needles & wool, the most beautiful wool you have ever seen, in the most beautiful colours.   A cat, or maybe two, & I sit & I knit.

Clickaty Clack, Clickaty Clack, until the sun sinks low in the west and the world outside the little cottage, grows dark.

There, the  moon, she shines down.


Very soon I'll be too tired to stitch any more........

until tomorrow  x

Wednesday, 4 June 2014


My Nanna and Grandad lived in a council house in South Ealing, London.  My memories of those days are like clips from an old cine camera, hazy, broken, distant, fragments.  My Nana died of cancer when I was seven. How old am I here?, I wonder? 

I only just remember, her kindness, her cuddle's, her smile. 

I do remember my Mums sadness. 

That's me in the socks ...... With my mum and sister. 

Sunday, 1 June 2014

By cycle...tales from 2 wheels.

Things I did see, whilst riding my bicycle

Abandoned railways, a wedding in a tepee field full of buttercups, a dinky little shop, a tiny Speedwell flower, an old railway carriage......

The last time I rode a bike, I mean seriously rode a bike, when you are out for hours in the countryside, where you go real fast down hills and the wind rushes at you and the countryside speeds past,  or you go real slow and meander, noticing and looking about you, a different perspective to walking or driving in the car, the carefree bike riding days of my childhood.  

Funny how you don't forget, the human brain is a clever and complicated thing, you never forget, 'just like riding a bike' they say.

I struggle to remember the colour of my first bicycle or who taught me to ride it, I do remember for the best part of my young life it was my constant companion.  I think there were numerous hand me down models. As my legs grew, so did the cycles, always boys bikes, handed down from a boy called Nick who was my Mums friend's son, a few years older than me, and my arch enemy, but I was thankful for his cycles.  He died at the age of 20 something, strangely, sadly, tragically, on two wheels, of the motorcycle kind though.

I remember, packing snacks and being out all day. Cycling around the flat Cambridgeshire fens. Hills were not a problem, not like here in Dorset!

I remember a near death experience whilst riding to a friends house, not thinking, not looking, and nearly being knocked down by an oncoming car, sliding and falling into the road, shaken but not hurt, sitting on the pavement for a while, then getting straight back on.  Coming back home later and Not telling my Mum a thing about it.

So I have a new perspective on life again, a different view from a saddle and two wheels, and I'm really liking it.

Have you taken up a new challenge or hobbie? Did you feel the fear and do it anyway?