{quilt} while you're ahead

crochet/christmas

Don't know why, but I couldn't wait to finish the socks (see yesterday's post) to pick up the crochet hook again.  Problem no 1: 'lack of wool' was resolved with a quick trip to the nearest charity shop (note to self: must build stash of wool :))

Problem No 2 was a bit trickier... what to do with the purchased garish red wool?  All my inspiration books are in boxes.  I wouldn't have wanted to inflict the aforementioned wool on any living organism, so gloves/hats/scarves were out of the question... mmm... mmm... mmm

Oh I know!

Can you guess?  Look closer...

Well done!  It's a Christmas flower garland!

I think I might even use it on my tree... move over Cath Kidston!

socks

... because that's exactly what they are.  For me,  again, because I've been too scared to try to reduce the size of the only instructions I have.  And I know that at least I am being very appreciative of the effort involved.

The wool was a swap present from the lovely Janet (who doesn't have a blog herself... but should).  She subsequently sent me the pattern for children socks... (told you she was nice) so stay tuned.

I love the randomness of the stripes.  It makes the socks looks as if they belong to two different pairs. 

Bad lighting today.

Gotta go.  I've got a date with a defrosted freezer that needs cleaning. Niiiice.

on the road again

I've always been fascinated by the myth of 'the road'.  The road as a metaphor for life. Roads get you lost, get you somewhere or get you nowhere, roads take you away, bring you back.  Home, to lovers, friends, problems or solutions.  Always different, always the same.

Because of Kerouac, Springsteen and company, I couldn't wait to get my driving licence and driving has always been a place (yes, I do believe it's a place as much as an action) where I do my best thinking, where inspiration hits me square, point blank in the eyes.

I love driving at night, alone, with the radio full volume.  You know? those nights when life it's what you're doing (for once, not just happening to you) and the radio  'knows' who you are.  In fact driving and music go really hand in hand.  We all have 'our' personal driving anthems, right?

I love driving holidays too, exploring back roads, residential areas... away from tourists stops.  I once spent the morning driving around Key West whilst Mr M was out diving.  There was so much more to the place than big hotels and restaurants.  In this one tiny street there was obviously a competition going for the wackiest post box... flamingos, whales, dolphins...  If I hadn't been driving I wouldn't have discovered that.   I can't wait for the boys to be old enough to hire a big RV and show them what it's all about. 

On a day like today, when the sun shines after a long period of grey and rain it is  nice to be out on the road again.  Even if it's only for the school run.

And like the good old Buddha once said (wisely):

"there's no road to happiness, happiness is the road".

small things

It was a weekend of small things.   We're getting ready to move and I think subconsciously we wanted to spend times in this house so we didn't venture far.  The horrible weather helped us in this.

The boys played.  I knitted (more about it soon) and read.  Mr M worked and watched sport.  We had a gorgeous dinner with friends.

I finally got round to 'finish' my felted bag.  In my mind I had all these visions of colourfull embroidered flowers, bright and bold... but in the end, I just couldn't.  It didn't feel right.  So I simply highlighted the leaves and handle with some linen thread.  It's more me like this.

Told you, harldy worth a mention.

The boys also had an intensive painting session.  'Apparently' this is me.  By No 2.

My legs are not much longer than that, ok.  And the eyelashes are kind of flattering... But the nose?

Little Women

I was nine years old when I first read "Little Women" by Louise May Alcott.   I was smitten, and since then I lost count of the times I've re-read it.  And the other books in the series too.

It reminds me of those cosy old Sunday movies, the ones with the happy endings, where love always triumphs in the end, where girls wear ribbons in their hair and long swishy skirts, and the men are gentlemen and wear gloves and hats and open doors and ask yo to dance. 

In turn I've wanted to be Meg and be domestic and responsible, I've always imagined her in her little house with her Brooke and her children, a kitchen with pretty curtains and a basket full of embroidery near the fireplace. 

I've envied Beth's goodness and kindness, and how everybody loved her for this.   And I also  so wished I was as pretty and sophisticated as Amy, and be able to paint beautifully and travel around Europe visiting museums and walking French parks.

But in the end it was always Jo who captured my imagination.  The fire in her soul, her determination, her breaking the conventions of society.  There's a rebel in each one of us - or at least we'd like to thing so!  We ride and never worry about the fall I guess thats just the cowboy in us all, sings rightly Tim McGraw).  And I've always wanted her to marry Laurie (am I alone in this?).  Jo - unconsciously - inspired my choices growing up.  Leaving home, settling far away from the family and from what was expected to a good Italian, Catholic girl in the 80's.

I don't know why I started collecting copies of this book.  I guess I wanted to hold on to the dreams I've always had reading it.   I want to feel cosy and worry-free like the 9 year old I once was.

Shouldn't we start wearing Cameos and ribbons in our hair again?

one, two, three... bowl!

drum roll, please.

Here it is, 'the bowl'.   An oasis of glitzy whimsical calm in the cosmic chaos that's my desk.  I love it.   It's the girliest thing I've ever done, and I love it.

I've had great fun doing it and I can assure you the result is inversely proportioned to the level of difficulty.  It might look hard to the uninitiated, but it's actually very easy.

Now... back to the humdrum of a house move.  Aaaarghhh.

Oh go on, one more shot...

... still here...

My weekend began with me cleaning vomit from the hall carpet on Friday evening  (son No 1) and ended with me changing vomit covered bedding at 3.00am on Monday morning (son No 2).  Sandwiched in between all this was No 3's version of the virus... from the other end.

Am I making myself clear?  That's why I didn't post.  I just didn't have the strength.

In all fairness Mr M looked after the kids on Sunday and I escaped with a friend to a contemporary craft exhibition.  And maybe that's another reason I didn't post... my gosh the talent that was there.  It kind of made everything I 'create' (in the loosest sense of the word) seem very pedestrian and amateurish.  It was beautiful, from the jewellery to the woven coats and blankets, to the embroidery, to the pottery...

I bought myself this mug.  I don't think I'll ever have the courage to use it, but it will go well with the rest of my white jugs.  (on the subject, I loved how everything tried to be serious whilst commenting about my jug collection ... aren't we a polite bunch!!)

Oh... and we're moving.   In 15 days.  Gulp.

corner of my home

... on of the last ones. 

As I type our solicitor should be talking with the two other solicitors in the chain and contracts should be exchanged.  In actual fact this house is probably not mine anymore.  Quite sad really.

This is a picture of a glass cabinet/bureau we have in the kitchen.  It contains my grandmother 's tea set and my great grandmother glasses, plus other nice things that don't get to be used much.  (why don't we use the nice things everyday? isn't life supposed to be short?... maybe I'll go downstairs and throw away all my IKEA glasses!!!)  On the top there are 'things'.  Jugs, because I love white ones.  In my dream kitchen there's a long shelf full of white jugs of any shape and size. 

The dried up bloom of our hydrangea.  A couple of vintage wooden rolling pin (sadly mainly used for playdoh..).  A vintage French tin coffee pot.  A couple of old cream coloured ceramic bottles and a plant pot which has seen more dead ivy plants than I'd like to admit.

I don't know if the new house will 'suit' this arrangement.  I can sense a lot of changes coming up.  (The white jugs will stay... I've only just began with those...)

In the meantime I'm trying to sort out through my sewing/craft stuff.  There are so many things that need to be tidied up before being packed away in a box.  The good thing is that I'll finally have a room of my own... I'm very very excited about that!

My sewing 'everyday' items in their new red tin box.

I love tin boxes.

I'm seeing a lot of red in the new place.

a sneaky preview and a thank you

A sneak preview of my embroidered bowl...

There's a long road up ahead... can you hold your breath until next week?

For today I give you a fantastic parcel from the incredible Laura...

The pin cushion is stunning.  Just have a closer look at all the beautiful fabrics that she used

Too good to use.

Elementary penguins singing Hare Krishna. Man you should have seen them kicking Edgar Alan Poe *

Saturday was spent visiting the zoo with the boys.  It was fun, if cold.

Actually, the penguins  were just hanging around, chilling out (literally) and looking cool.  No 2 adores penguins and as a consequence we always spend a lot of time in their enclosures.  It's not a huge zoo, but it's very well kept and the animal seem 'happy'.  They don't have that bored-out-of-their-mind/zombie look that sometimes animals in captivity do get.

No 3 was quite overwhelmed by all these strange creatures but in true 15mths old fashion had the most fun of all chasing pigeons around ... (do you ever ask yourself why do you bother?  Look at the majestic lion... hey stop running after that pigeon! look at the damn lion!!!). 

Anyway I ENJOYED IT. 

A slightly surreal sign, I thought...

The seals had pretty toys to play with...

And this boat... made me wish for the sea...

And  check the contrast in these leaves colours:

*(PS does anybody know what on earth were The Beatles thinking when they wrote those lyrics?)