Snipping and patching

The apple muffins have been munched, the chocolate muffins have been chomped, and the flapjacks are long gone - sometimes it seems like there is nothing to show for a weekend's work when the B&B guests have gone and the permaculture course is over.

But I managed a quick Friday night sewing special, so there is something material to show for all my efforts.

Nifty handle

I have been wanting to make one of Ayumi's patchwork wristlets for a while, and here is my version.

Friday night is sewing night

 Rather a nifty little number, with a wrist strap and key tab, and little pockets inside.

Handy pocket

Needless to say Princess Bunchy has paused in her veterinary endeavours long enough to commission one of her own. Just what she needs when she goes out, being only a handbag collector rather than a wearer.

Back to the sewing machine again, then. Hep, hep!

[And in case any of you are foolish enough to be thinking of things housework, take it from me and don't bother. Especially if you were considering applying housework to a computer in the form of cleaning the keyboard with a slightly (only very slightly) dampened duster. And particularly if you like to use hyphens, square brackets, inverted commas or the enter key, and wish them to carry on working after cleaning. {The jury is out on whether a new keyboard will be necessary.}]

Have a good week, my dears, and take it from me, stick to the sewing: you know it makes sense.

An unfortunate encounter

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the first time that she has seen the cold light of dawn from an upstairs window for many weeks, and the cold light of dawn is one of her favourite phrases, betokening as it does all sorts of elopements, escapes and adventures.

She has had an adventure herself this week, having been marauded by a cheery dentist, who smiled and smiled but was yet a villain.

His gleaming white teeth were mouthing platitudes as he bent over the chair and as she opened her mouth to reply politely, wham! there was a needle embedded in her jaw, just a little scratch as it scraped the bone and made her teeth creak (he was actually holding it behind his back, would you believe, do they practise this on dental training programmes, the big smile, the pleasant conversation and the quick draw?).

And then what a sight she was (were people laughing and pointing in the street, she didn't dare look).

Would foundation be able to cover that big purple bruise? said Princess Bunchy. (Certainly, it would need stage make-up of a heavy duty sort.)

Your face has sort of dropped down on one side, said her dear sister, helpfully. You look like you have Bell's Palsy. (She tested her facial muscles by raising her eyebrow and essaying a tentative grimace. No, not a palsy or a stroke, one must be thankful for small mercies.)

It's all right, it's not a haematoma, said the dentist when she showed him that she really had turned into a hamster, in spite of what the receptionist had said on the phone. He smiled gleefully and said that perhaps she could wear a large scarf if she needed to go out.

A brown paper bag, more like, she muttered bitterly to herself, except then she would no doubt fall over and add to the effect so ably produced by the man with the sparkly teeth.

There was nothing for it but for her to retire to an armchair by the fire, eat copious quantities of very soft chocolate muffins broken up exceedingly small, and sulk (I think she will thus have a rotund midriff to match the hamster visage, and thus feel even more unable to meet her public face to face).

She would also like to thank all the lovely people who have sent kind emails and enquiries as to her wellbeing, and apologize profusely for her tardiness in replying, her only excuse being that January is the cruellest month and a period of hibernation proved to be the only solution.

February is almost as bad, but at least you don't have to get up in the dark quite so much.

Sew many reasons to be cheerful

[If you were looking for the giveaway, you will find it here.]

No reason to be crabby

I am showing my age when I say that 'Reasons to be Cheerful' by Ian Dury is part of my cultural hinterland, but when I saw the confluence of two bloggy positive thinking initiatives, Planet Penny's Reasons to be Cheerful, and Lily's Quilts Fresh Sewing Day, I felt that it was a good idea to stir my stumps and come up with my own reasons to think positive.

First of all, thank you most kindly to all of you who have enquired about my hand. Yes, it is still there on the end of my arm, and it is still encased in rather revoltingly coloured plastic, which I have embellished with orange and white Sugru (if you would like some, too, they tell me there is a discount code until 19 December, which means you get your fourth pack free - just write YAYCHRISTMAS in the box). But I am quite reconciled to it all really, if a little frustrated when I try to put my coat on, and patience is a virtue, etc.

But I did of course manage to crack in a little bit of sewing before things went awry, and so when Princess Bunchy was working out her Christmas presents I was actually quite pleased to find that we had enough little purses (from the Keyka Lou Pleated Pouch pattern) . . .

. . . and wallets (from the Keyka Lou Basic Wallet pattern) to go round, including one for the £2 Secret Santa (I think whoever gets this gets a good deal!), and moreover, I have a couple left over for emergencies (you know, that feeling you get late on Christmas Eve when you are wrapping the presents and find that you have fewer presents than names on the list [which of course doesn't happen in well-regulated households]).

So in spite of a little hurdle along the way, my sewing for November is something to feel quite cheerful about (all thanks to the discipline of the Christmas Challenge, I am sure).

Quite astonishingly we still have lettuce in the garden, and a few flowers, too, and I can even feel cheerful about the rain, the more the better in fact, or it will be hosepipe bans all round next year.

So Reasons to be Cheerful, one stitchy, two horticultural, and three meteorological - what more could a body want? Apart from tea and cake, that is . . .

All in the bag: heaving out a winner

Twice in the last couple of weeks I have been listening to Radio 4 and heard people I know from university days, who are most definitely on the way to being Eminent (if they are not already) opining in a most grown-up and erudite fashion, the second time this morning when I was standing in the kitchen, enmeshed in domesticity, well wrapped up in a pinny and stirring up some double chocolate muffins.

I think that I am beginning to feel a failure, never having been invited onto Radio 4 and actually not doing too well on the grown-up front (although the very sagacious Angela did call me erudite recently; I am thinking of having a badge made with the label 'Erudite' to make up for my lack of an Important Job, or indeed Eminence).

Bag on a tree

I comforted myself with the thought that I do know how to knit socks (although I am struggling with my Postmodern Socks at the moment, not so much with the theory as the putting the postmodernism into practice), and that yesterday I made a Ruched Happy Bag and a Swatch Book Cover, both to be carried in my recently completed Multi Tasker Tote (made from a pattern by Anna Maria Horner) - fabric Pop Garden flowers in green by Heather Bailey, together with Bijoux Tile in ice blue and red (all from Saints and Pinners).

For Multi-Taskers everywhere

And anyone who has need of a Multi Tasker Tote must of course be multi-tasking, which seems to be a most happening thing to do, although possibly for credibility's sake the Efficient Multi-Tasker should be wearing a suit, and as you will see from the photographs so ably composed and taken by the Head Chef I am failing most sadly on the sartorial front, the recent vertiginous drop in ambient temperatures having necessitated the donning of vest, cardi and mitts (luckily we have B&Bs arriving tomorrow so lighting the fire is allowed (this is why I was making chocolate muffins again, and not of course for me to comfort eat while contemplating the ashes of my career ambitions, oh no)).

How not to stand

I would not dare criticize the Head Chef's competence in fashion photography. I hinted that the photographer must be below the subject for a slimming effect, and thus the suggestion was that I should stand on a very wobbly chair (one of whose ilk has been known to collapse under the weight of an only moderately large course attendee on a former unfortunate occasion).

Note the photographer's careful attention re extraneous objects in background of photo

On viewing the results of the Head Chef's shutter work and being asked to comment, I made the mistake of being honest, and ventured the opinion that the images were Not Up To Scratch at which point I found out that the fault was in the way that I was standing. It was good to clear that one up, and I shall be very careful not to stand in any pictures again.

Loops and pockets - how jolly!

I am happy to say that my jolly new multitasking bag is far more photogenic than Pomona the granny fashionista, the epitome of cardigan grunge chic, and I would ask you to admire the nifty little inside pocket, so artfully divided into sections for pencil and pen (for multitasking mummies always have such things handy for sticky moments in restaurants even when their offspring are way beyond the stage of having any call for such old-fashioned writing implements).

And the contents are even more exciting for one of my limited needleworking skills - I have made another Ruched Happy Bag, from Amy's wonderful pattern (you can see my first Happy Bag here); these are truly happy bags, for they make me most happy to have made such a professional-looking zippy bag.

And I have also made a Swatch Book Cover, from a Keykalou pattern, so that I may always be prepared with notebook to hand in case I have any Deep Thoughts, which I can write down in the hope that one day someone on Radio 4 would like me to expound them so that I, too, can join the pantheon of those who fulfilled their early promise and made their Aged Parents proud.

This is a rather nifty pattern, which works for the two sizes of Moleskine Cahier - it thus makes a good present, for wherever the recipient is located, they are sure to be able to find refills. Not only do Moleskine Cahiers come in large and small, they also come in ruled, plain, and squared, so by choosing the fabrics appropriately I have come to the conclusion that you can make these Swatch Book Covers as a present for almost anyone (can you hear the production line cranking up?). And what is even better about both of these patterns, they only use small pieces of fabric, so great for using up stash - just right for an thrifty Christmas as the world economy approaches ruin.

And now we come to the Very Important Bit: choosing the winner of the Sugru giveaway.

Can I help?

As I cast about for a receptacle capacious enough for all of you to fit in, my optics fell upon the Multi Tasker Tote and the Little Stranger lurking about with intent.

In here, you say?

As you will see, the Little Stranger needed a little explanation and encouragement, but I think she is beginning to understand the concept of the blog giveaway.

How far down?

A sausage roll is an added incentive - I am not sure what they put in dog sausage rolls, but I suspect that it is either Addictive or Mouse.

Oh, I see!

And so my little furry friend rootled around in the recesses, and out she came with a winner.

Got one!

The photograph doesn't make it clear, but hip, hip, hooray for Mrs Micawber - perhaps you could let me know your address so that we can get the Sugru winging its way to you.

It's Mrs Micawber . . .

The Little Stranger was disappointed that there was only one winner to be rootled for today, but hey, who knows, another day may bring another giveaway.

Now I must get back to the production line: the geese are getting fat . . . .

Holiday fun: fabulous brownies on the beach and the wedding dress of the year

It seems to me that Geoffrey Chaucer was wrong about April being the month that folk go on pilgrimages: hearing of the epic length of the queues on the M25, I find myself thinking that August is the month in which folk undertake their peregrinations. And, quite unusually for me, I have also been doing a bit of peregrinating, too, and yesterday found myself on a girly visit to the Big Smoke, a place I tend to avoid in high summer. But off we went to Buck House to see that dress: for me the high points were the video of Sarah Burton, the designer, explaining how the royal wedding dress was designed and constructed, and the wonderful paintings by Rembrandt, Poussin, Winterhalter et al; the low points were the queues to get in, the queues for security, and the general overcrowding which made it difficult to stop and study things. And at £17.50 for an adult, £10 for a child it is not a cheap day out - being of a Frugal Turn, and the Great Wen being so very full of the most wonderful things which are completely free of charge, I rarely pay to see the decorative arts, and in my rustic innocence have no idea how these prices compare with other attractions, but it is certainly a lot more than I am used to paying.

Unfortunately for me, there were also long queues for the cafe in the garden, so I did not get the chance to sample the tea and cake - my fellow pilgrims regaled me with tales of the magnificence of the royal garden party teas, to which I being insignificant and anonymous, and on one occasion, a married, rather than unmarried, daughter, have never been invited (sob).

But all is not lost: this week I have had the chance to sample copious quantities of the most magnificent cake (and baked by a princess and a fairy goddaughter), so opportunities to expand my waistline have not been wanting.

I received in the post an utter chocfest of a book called Fabulous Brownies, written by Annie Rigg, and published by Ryland Peters and Small, who very kindly sent me a copy to review. 

And I have to say that for chocolate and cake lovers, they are pretty fabulous brownies to eat - not only that but the book provided two days of fabulous holiday activity for Princess Bunchy and Fairy Goddaughter. 

The recipes are divided into four categories: Simple (everyday variations on the brownie theme), Pretty and Indulgent (which would be good for special tea parties, or dinner party puddings), and Kids. 

Not only does the Kids section appeal to children in terms of look and taste, but the instructions are very straightforwardly written and easy to follow, so that two girls of 11 and 12 could be left to themselves in the kitchen to create the cakes and their mothers could sit in the garden undisturbed and have a Good Natter - which to me constitutes the ideal holiday activity for children. 

We of course did not neglect our offspring entirely - we were always on hand to taste the results and offer advice and encouragement from a safe distance, whilst we put the world to rights and caught up on many months of news and anecdote.

So if you want to keep your children quiet and amused this holiday time, Fabulous Brownies could be just the answer: just take my advice and put pinnies on them first, because the kitchen did get quite chocolatey (as did their faces, hands and Princess Bunchy's trousers).

We then took the brownies (and the children) to the beach: the sunniest, warmest evening ever spent on Knitstable beach (before the grey skies set in again). I actually had to remove my socks and plimsolls, and found no reason to don my great big granny cardigan, the last word in festival chic (I bought it at the Big Green Gathering, so festival wear it is). 

Fish and chips, Brownie Owls and Brownie Wheels, and a bottle of rosé as the sun set over the sea and the gulls wheeled and cried overhead - what more could any of us want? 

I have also done a little light sewing. I am unable to cope with anything too demanding in the dog days so I just ran up a trio of cushions for a ballerina who has taken to loft living.

You might notice from the picture that these cushions are not in a loft but reclining on a bench: they were very nearly kidnapped en route, the Amy Butler Love fabric being so enticing, but I am happy to say that they made it up the stairs and are now enjoying the high life.

So there's what we did in the summer holidays: a bit of stitching and a bit of travelling, up to London and down to the beach - don't tell me I don't lead the high life, too . . .

Winter gardening

You may well think that I am slightly unhinged to venture upon this topic (and you may well be right) in a week of iron-grey skies and rain lashing the roof-tops ... but the sun is smiling weakly upon my little plot this morning, and I think there is room for a small amount of seasonal optimism, in my case facilitated by a bloggy friend.

Not that I am requiring you to go outside to do your winter gardening - I would be the first to admit that I am a fair-weather gardener, and have usually retreated indoors before the end of October, only to emerge, blinking, into the first sunlight of early spring. My blood runs low and sluggish with the waning light, by December I have an overwhelming urge to hibernate, and I quail at the thought of January and February.

No, my favourite form of winter gardening is done indoors. On a dark and stormy night, I suggest that you curl up on a sofa with Monty Don (The Complete Gardener is my favourite), a cosy crochet granny blanket, and some seed catalogues - and then just dream of abundance to come.

The good thing about gardening is that there is always next year - never mind last year's failures, next year will be different. The soil will be different, the sun and rain will be different, the green fuse will ignite in a different way.

So sit and look at those vivid and winter-piercing pictures of good green things to come and think about what you would like to eat next summer. You can see from the pictures that I have plenty to look forward to already, thanks to the lovely Michela at Little Secrets From My Garden. I received the most wonderfully cheering parcel from her this week, full of the most exciting Italian seed packets, all wrapped in festive red tissue, and tied with gold.

And no, I didn't wait for Christmas to open it - I looked upon it as an Advent present instead, and wasted no time before investigating its contents. And I am afraid that I also wasted no time in consuming the immediately edible portion which was not vegetable in nature, but medicinally chocolatey.

So my winter dreams are now of sitting on my holiday sofa next summer, partaking of a fresh and flavoursome Mediterranean salad, and consuming quantities of elderflower champagne. I feel warmer and cheerier already, and thank you, Michela, for your kindness and generosity which has brought a little spring into my step, deep in the midst of winter.