counting blessings

We have all survived so far without fisticuffs.
Daughter and the Glorious Grandson are doing well, filling up the time and space available, they are out today visiting a children's palace/bouncy castle or some such, with daughters friend and her little kidlet.
He is lovely, but was one of those babes damaged at birth [not enough attention paid by medicals at the relevant time, "i think i am having the baby nurse", "nonsense it will be ages yet" Not] He is slow on his milestones and now has been belatedly discovered to have a hole in his heart which will hopefully fixed this coming year.
It is wet and windy, but no snow so far.
We made full use of two sunny days to go to the seaside and push baby's buggy along the prom and eat chips! The inadequate free buggy [thanks V*rgin] was a benefit as the stroller is rather large, but with just Buggers we can also fit GG, Daughter, Grandma, Hattie the Dog and Driver into the car.
Otherwise we have watched a lot of TV, cleaned up the floor area in a continuous rolling programme, tried not to eat chocs and/or abandoned baby food and discussed Men - particularly Men in Marriage, and why don't they grow up as quickly as women or should that be Women Who have become Mothers...............

food for thought

The Glorious Grandson has landed.
Daughter and he had a good, if delayed, flight from SF.
We drove up on Sunday afternoon, worried that the icy temperatures would make the roads a bit dicey if we left early Monday morning.
In reality it is the pavements that are treacherous down here in the S, as the fresh snow line has drifted N.
We booked a cupboard with shower in some big airport hotel thru a website that is supposed to arrange these things at short notice. Sadly they belatedly discovered the Inn was full, by the time they phoned home to let us know they had told us wrong, we were on our way.
The over booked hotel didn't want to admit it was their fault so took at least an hour trying to blame/contact the website, before passing us on to the alternative hotel they knew had a cupboard booked for us.
The cupboard had a shower [no bath I do like a long hot soak to celebrate a journey ie get my monies worth!] and a TV so I managed. The shower never did reach temperature and the scampi and chips was yuk, but we found offspring and her offspring and turned to go home. Horrible jam on the A12 but fortunately going the other way.
Airline had lost the stroller so provided a small buggy in company colours which definitely won't challenge the mountainous pavements. Took 3 days for stroller to be couriered over and part of it has been busted however it still works. Not a total celebration, but we do still have the little buggy.

Tree is enjoying seeing the cold clear light of day after a year in the loft.

and lights up the evenings.
Madame Xmas checks out the visitors [not many in this weather
Had a worry yesterday when ma wasn't answering her phone, eventually battled round, with the buggy, only to find she had just returned from town.
Damn those free bus passes, she was going stir crazy so decided to escape. Town was cold and full of wet snow and the shops had nothing she liked - surprise.
Today we did the food shopping and made sure the birds had some seeds and water. Mr and Mrs Blackbirds are feasting on the few apples still clinging to the trees, they peck away till the apple is eaten three quarters away, then it falls and they munch on to the next one.
GG doesn't seem to eat anything nutritious except cereal and bananas but I guess he knows best.

personae dramatis

The snow is sliding off the roof - the skies are shiny blue, it may not last much longer.
Last night there was a huge bang + power cut, which I immediately surmised was terrorists blowing up the docks...........so calm in my third age...........no, it turned out it was thunder, didn't know we could get winter storms.

I expect the old mangle has seen worse.


Daughter and grandson are due at Heathrow on Monday, so have to decide whether to drive up and stay over night in bleak hotel, or drive thru London in the bleak early morning light.
I am desperately trying to clear back my work room, where they sleep, so young mover [he stands and totters but isn't walking yet] doesn't disappear under an avalanche of creativity and needles.
Great grandma and I went up to the ToysRUs hanger [so big she could ask the pilot to land there, it is closer] and threw money around, mostly on wooden toys, so the Glorious Grandson will probably believe the rumours that we are become a Third World country.
American, or maybe just current, expectations of Health & Saftery are somewhat alien. When the daughter was a babe she and brother rocketed around in a veritable battle field of dangers it seems. e.g. She says I must buy duct tape to secure the plugs, and everything up to 2' above the floor must be removed or barricaded .......oh dear. I don't care, I have bought him a packet of Rusks! every baby has to risk new experiences.
That e.g. reminds me, I have just finished Robert Harris' Lustrum, his second novel on Cicero taken from the narratives of his slave secretary, Tiro. It seems that Tiro invented his own shorthand to take down C's speeches etc and Tiro invented "e.g" "&" and even "etc". just shows you never know who, why or what will be remembered.

For those who enjoy Harry Hill, I reveal our own "knitted character". I bought him to cuddle when I was ill over 20 years ago, and he has stood guard ever since, so he he well over due for his inclusion in the hall of Fame.

Merry Chrimble

The church where the RP bends his knee on a Sunday is a miserable concrete replacement of the Norman flint edifice that the Germans doodle bugged in the war.
To cheer it up a bit the congregation make [or get made] kneelers to commemorate each other and their clubs, they always put them up on show for the rest of the week, adding a bit of colour and local history.

Some young blood was added this Chrimble by the kids at the local primaries.

This angel gave one the impression she would be a good girl to have at one's side in times of adversity
The vicar has a mad collie dog [reminiscent of the vicar]but so far the sheep is cool.
The three wise men [some exaggeration surely] may or may not be illegal immigrants. The only known foreigners in the village are from the Chinese Take Away, and all us lot from London.

These are definitely the only persons of colour within five miles
I used to go to the midnight service on Xmas Eve, but I have given it up, another club I don't belong to, I should make my own kneeler.

cold comfort

Thoughts of local mysteries was kicked off by RP returning from church this morning to announce that they had prayed for Sarah who had been "killed". As he rarely notices information/gossip he asked me what it was about.
I know nothing.
We are also fairly clueless about a lesser event that obviously occurred recently, down the road, when the old brick bus shelter suddenly appeared to be sagging to it's knees and scattering bricks willy nilly.
After several drive byes we noticed that the hedgerows next to the shelter had been heavily flailed, as is the country macho custom.
Then a DIY notice appeared, tied to the protective Health and Safety fence that now protects us from retribution from the deeply wounded bus shelter.
"Well done Harry"
Enigmatic, intriguing and indicating the narrative that said Harry was happily driving his big agricultural machinery along the road, flailing away, when he misjudged when to withdraw, so to speak.
We must all expect the unexpected.

Ladies who lurch

These two ladies will be mounting guard at our January exhibition. Mrs Crisp at the top lives up to her name, while Mrs Buttons and Zips celebrates the tyranny of fastenings that struggle to contain her. [Double click for detail]
Other ladies will be Mrs Media, emblazoned with the headlines that women have to endure as to their size and gender, and Mrs Alcohol with a cork necklace of her recent comforters, and finally Mrs Chocolate with a long elegant skirt of chocolate wrappers. Took dedication that one.
As they are life size [except for appendages] they make quite a statement. All we need now is to encourage persons with cheque books to venture out in the January cold.

K*ndle Surprise

So yes I have a K*ndle,I admit it but I am not addicted, I can give it up any time.........the RP decided I am an "early adopter" a geek term it seems that implies I am impulse driven [blame my potty training] and want everything NOW.
Of course it is also a useful excuse to blame me when he gets diverted by a new gadget.
When we were in the States last we saw them in the book cathedrals [obviously everything is bigger there]I poked them excitedly and declared instant lust, but to some extent the staff weren't really au fait with their ingenious machine and really just kept it chained up to tempt customers.
However Am*zon started advertising recently that one could purchase a machine from the comfort of one's own computer. so he ordered one for my birthday.
It arrived via air-mail two days later.
No doubt a S*ny version from a warehouse down the road would have taken at least a week, or maybe a month. { I stupidly ordered a 2nd hand book thru Amazon 2 weeks ago and it still isn't here].
Anyway the K*ndle is lovely, it should ensure that the house doesn't collapse with the weight of the book shelves, I can read in bed without squashing my chest, and I only occasionally get so excited by a plot that I reach out to turn a page instead of push a button.
I rarely bath these days, the hot water tank is disappointing, I stick to listening to the radio when I am showering each morning.
So all good.
Not quite, given that it is a Yankee toy, it plays to Yankee rules, these include only offering dead authors for more or less nothing, or crap authors for a bit more. I have downloaded and read the new Michael Connelly and some others but most new books have still not crossed the copyright ocean.
Thus i ordered a Xmas supply between hard and soft covers this morning - from Amazon!
I think I would always read printed books, but for cheapness,speed of delivery [about 30 seconds for a complete book] holidays, reading in pubs and cafes while RP does his crossword, I will enjoy the neat little K*ndle.

a fairy story

Sometimes in the murk of a dirty winter a bright light shines forth, or perhaps from evil cometh grace, or..............
anyway this couple owned a haberdashers in town. [It was actually more just a fabric shop but I like the word] the shop was OK, very bright and filled with shiny materials and cross stitch and fun fur, the usual stuff.
Mrs Shop is/looks like a large, rough skinned, matriarchal Romany, arms folded across her bosom and somewhat accusing eyes. Sometimes I bought something, not often I am a threads girl on recycled tat usually.
However the world turns, as it does - relentlessly, and paying no attention to us tiny persons clinging to our life stories- and Mr Shop took the money and upped off with another. We spit on his story, which may have a different bias from his point of view, but we work with what we have got.
Mrs Shop doubtless uttered curses of occult vengeance, gathered up her stock and retrenched at home, which reveals itself as an attractive Victorian farm workers cottage in the next village.
Last week I was invited into her ancient and rickety shed in the back garden where the stock piles, quietly glittering. She has had several sales in village halls which I had dismissed in my ignorance thinking they would be the usual rip off.
However to move the stock on [before it rots] and provide a tax free income she is now selling to all comers for £5 a bolt, regardless of how much fabric is wrapped there on, plus listening to her story and that of her four strapping sons and her daughter in law's fathers gout, etc.
Obviously I turned into a manic magpie and Needed as much Shiny as i could fly out of the door - and had to be tied down, notwithstanding the above comment that I rarely buy new fabric.
I now have a magical corner in my smaller room and enough glittering fabric to clothe a regiment of fairies and the occasional elf.
At least it will warm me through the winter just by its glow.

temptress

my machine but how does it work!!

deflated

It is hard, in this grey, wet and stormy weather to keep one's pecker vertical. It is even so mild that I can't convince myself that a roaring fire would be a good idea, so no glow from the grate, just wind in the chimney.
I did manage to get the car MOTd, always a stretch as I hate turning up and looking useless, but where cars are concerned it is who I am, pointless trying to put on a show of confidence as i would be disdainfully rumbled in two ticks and the garage men are already arrogant enough.
Actually i have found that the service centre is bearable for my little Cleopatra as it has counter staff that distance me from the oily rag macho men, there is a very emollient guy called Paul who even phones up afterwards to make sure all met my expectations. As my expectations mainly wallow in humiliations I am usually ecstatic, especially as they washed the car too this time.
However Paul was busy soothing another woman when I came to claim my prize, so I muttered [safe in the knowledge that I was nearly through the torture] and a young female decided to deal with me. I was a receptionist/typist/dogsbody once and I swear I wasn't as snooty as so many who serve behind counters these days. Fight or flight led me to give her my card, grab the keys and run.
Only when I got home did I see that the numbers beside my tyre depth measurements look somewhat reduced. Is a 2 bad? I fear it may be, I can only hope young Paul can spare me the time to check on my well being so I can enquire.

harvest

Life is difficult and emotional at the moment trying to support poor daughter thru her problems, so it is good that there is still some colour to cheer in the garden.


A colour for every emotion
We have dried some in a low temp oven,which we will store in a jar for a years supply and will experiment freezing some others. Apparently it says on the Interweb we have to line them up, not touching till they freeze separately, then we can wrap them and keep them in there for future use.
Trouble is the freezer is already full of odds and sods and many packs of gooseberries, harvested earlier this year.
When ma used to come to Sunday dinner each week we would extract one and have as dessert with some ice cream. Neither ma of myself are capable of making cakes, or .........trifles.
However ma has now decided that her occasional irritable bowel means she will restrain herself to a Royal Visit on Sunday afternoon, where I shall pay court and listen repeatedly to repetitions until she decided it is getting dark so she better toddle off.
The portability of stitching comes in very useful at these time, needlework has saved many a female's sanity under such pressure to look as if one is listening.
Thus we are robbed of the opportunity to have a nice roast and a pudding, sometimes the former, but the latter seems extraneous when there are only two of us.
Thus excessive gooseberries clogging up the system. Maybe a Gooseberry party is the answer............or for breakfast, that might be an idea.

head start

Went to see Felting Needle at her Xmas Village fair, first festive outing of the season.
The village hall was warm and jolly, just as it should be - as opposed to the miserable soulless lights that have been strung across the town streets since October, cheering no-one, except maybe the very young and the very old. Certainly not the medium-old like me.
Felting Needle has wonderfully made me a hat inspired by Lorina Bulwer and Elizabeth Parker and even Agnes and her jacket [Embroderers blog] which I hope to embroider with a few words
or perhaps something more chirpy

away days

Birthday by the sea, excellent weather, food, company. Much walkies. Almost worth being a year older.

Even Hattie the dog went on a go slow after several hikes, walking along the coast, thru the gorse, across the golf course to Southwold and back; birthday money burning a hole in my pocket exploring the posh clothes shops. Finally all I bought was a stripey Tshirt, but it was a posh one - reversible and organic cotton.

If the ferry had been running it would have shortened the mileage; the notice would usually have covered their lazy arses, being November - obviously they didn't expect the sun to be shining quite so brightly, and such a lovely few days.
Quite posh meals, tho mein hostess was a little confusing, one of those toffs that are all over you in a smarmy manner, but simultaneously seem to be disdaining any contact.
First night I had delicious rabbit and bacon casserole [sorry bunnies], next night was baked cod and then faggots on parsnip mash. The latter more working class fare was partaken at another hostelry after bonfire and fireworks, very jolly.
I did only have one almost full English breakfast, but the scrambled eggs on other days were Elizabeth David, so the lbs have piled on and will take till just before the next holiday to shift.
Now this was the strangest thing, the RP who notices very little outside his own head or something attached to a plug............. or roots.......................called me into the loo to witness one of those miraculous occurrences randomly formed with a spare bit of thread, presumably as a reminder from Hattie.

Holloween blues

Halloween is taken more seriously in America. Personally we just turned off the lights and hid under the table until the burble of little children had passed us by.



If imperious daughter had appeared i reckon they would have disappeared even more quickly.
She is hoping to get onto a fashion design course, I say her strengths would be exotic corsets and trousers, she says pretty dresses. Isn't it strange how one's offspring can't see sense when you wave it at them. Possibly just as well we live apart.
I could feel quite distraught at missing so much, fortunately I am enjoying what I am doing........if only they were next door.
Then of course the devil points out the kingdom of temptation ........daughter phoned with news that the house next door but one to them was for sale, for a very credit crunch price........we+they could buy it, rent it out to pay the mortgage, stay in it when we visited!! Soooooo tempting, five minutes thought piles up all the reasons why not........so frustrating.

books & boats

I am watching the film "the Boat that Rocked" on Sky Box Office, it is ghastly.
I hate it, but I have paid £3.99, so I am forced to let it burble on - so naffly, at least the music is soul stirring.
When we were young.............so young...........at College we used to have the pirate ships on all day, and possibly all night. I nearly failed my finals because I was incapable of turning Radio Caroline/Radio London off.
Keith Skeuse is still on Radio Norfolk...........................old DJs never die, some are unlucky and turn into Tony Blackburn, but most like John Peel linger in the ether, he lived near here....old DJs return to the roots - to marinate.........
Fortunately my run of good books continues.
Robert Crais - Chasing Darkness was diverting, and The Owl Killers by Karen Maitland was - frightening in a very muddy medieval way. I now know what a beguine is/was other than a dance from S America.
But best of all I have found Mick Herron, he is brilliant. I would download his trilogy of the lady private eye called Zoe onto my birthday pressi [my Kindle surprise] but it is a Yankee machine, and only seems to have the second part, why?
Also they won't have the new Terry Pratchett available until next week, always a glitch in new technology.

PS I must admit the flotilla of little boats rescue at the end squeezed a tear.

Homage to heide

Woke up yesterday morning with a determination to knit a Beanie. Dunno why, never have before, and in past eons when I did on occasion knit a cardie or two they never really fitted.
Anyway there was this undeniable urge to find a pattern and create.
Found many free patterns on the interweb and borrowed some circular needles from ma. That was where I went wrong no doubt.
Later she told me "I didn't think they were right" obviously she didn't say anything at the time.
Some time was spent wrestling with yards [seemingly] of plastic and 72 cast-ons that would just about cover from one eye to one ear.
Eventually I was forced to lunge from my traditional grannies armchair into "my Room" and tip up the metal tube fall of pointy things, with lots of rings and somethings festooned upon them.
It had been filling up for some time [years], but there they were - shorter and fatter circular needles. This time 72 looked enough and by bedtime I was protected from any winds that might blow.
Now ma wants one.

Misty this morning, but head was cosy.

two exhibitions

Went to an exhibition in Bury St Edmund's art gallery called Making and Mending, a group of artists using domestic textiles, to explore consumerism and sustainability. our focus on these themes being sharpened by the threat of recession, credit crunch.
The darned cardie connected emotionally, thoughts of time passing, connections with those whom we know who wear cardies. RP has a similar one for gardening - undarned so far, ........but I bought a gorgeous arty one recently, it cost the earth.......oh dear I hope not.
My ma never picked up a darning needle in my life time, thus perhaps my fascination with the stitch in my work, or just that cover lots of space with long fat stitches. Mother always worked and paid other women to make my school dresses etc, her mother was the same, which is an interesting [to me anyway] perspective on the nostalgia for times past when we did make and mend.......

This was the sock exchange, people have been encouraged to bring their socks in and get them stitched I suppose, sort of irritating till I reminded myself to have a sense of humour.
The armchair was very pleasing, with lots of thoughts about how I could customise the grubby one in my shed. It was "mended" with random icons of American culture that had been repeated patterned on an industrial pattern making machine that artists got hold of some time ago.
I think I have seen some of These old cardboard pin sheets, which were presumably sold before plastic boxes became so cheap.
I think there may be some in my favourite junk shop in Hastings where many kitchen drawers have been emptied into plastic bags and sold for 50p each. Sad. I could probably enter some of the bags "as seen" into an exhibition somewhere and someone somewhere would review them...........such is art these days.
In this case the artist has printed a repeat photo of a pin card and stitched it into this patchwork effect wall hanging.
After wandering and clucking around we stitchers went to another textile exhibition round the corner, an excess of treasures.
I name this one a "textile art" exhibition as it was much more heavily textile based, lots of dyed and stitched techniques.
Altho I sometimes find the glibness of contemporary art annoying, I realised I had enjoyed the first exhibition far more, as it stimulated us into discussion and further thoughts.
The second exhibition probably didn't have that intention, I guess it was meant to be more sensual and craft based.
It explored lots of skills , used modern printing and dying techniques and explored design, but it felt heavy and crowded.
There was a evident group ethos even in the variety of the second show, where as "make and mend" felt more individual, except even those works were part of another grouping, the Back to the Future - Green approach...............an agreed group concept, so not so individual. Risk taking but in a comfort zone.

room at the top

Exhibition went well. Even sold The Dancers and could have bartered the Crowd but have reserved it for G.
Of course i spent the lot on a bird table

this one





You have got to admit, it is magnificent.

a pec of dirt

Just to remind us g'mas that the perfect angels can sometimes be a pain, especially when they have just experimented with a good chew on a handful of dirt.

head case

It is a grey, chilly, wet day with an added serving of persistent rain. Some time back we were moaning about two months without wetness falling from the sky [the holes are very small so the rain is very thin - thanks Spike]
So cannot resist a pic received today of the blessed gorgeousness wearing the ghastly Sainsbury's pumpkin suit I sent him. Hurray.
I would upload the video of the hayride, geese aflying, Maize maze but fortunately, or not, I don't know how.
Yesterday I went to SLAPPERS and bullied the members as to the quality of the 5' lady shapes we are making for exhibition in January here. Someone has to.
We were going to call the exhibition Big Women, till "Why does nobody listen" was co-opted as a title - obviously i wasn't present at the time.
Having dismissed it immediately as hippy whinging belonging to the 70s [they were so startled I got away with it] happily K came up with the title "Largely Women" which we all snatched up and polished with glee.
Flyers are even now winging their way from the printer to unsuspecting recipients in the area, or will be soon.
There was some whining about who could steward and when; K would be abroad, A would be working, L is always busy, so i stamped thru the cackle and announced I would steward every day if needed and could we get on to the next subject.
Hmmmmmm, I guess when I have a headache part of my brain is dealing with fending it off, so my inhibitions are reduced.
Having stamped all over that scenario I left them to denigrate my behaviour in time honoured fashion, and went to the next battle - putting up the current exhibition. I was well up for it. as the young persons say [or used to, last time I parlayed] so hanging work was fairly fast and without too much negotiation.
I totally blanked K2 when she tried to suggest her arrangement would be more successful but after she had stamped out, young L who is the 2nd most amiable person I know persuaded me to reverse the decision without even leaving a mark.
Some people have these skills. I put it down to her having read Anthropology for her Degree [an unfair advantage].
However the University of Life [and the OU] supported me thru and when I left most pieces were where I had put them; it will be interesting to see where they are when I steward this afternoon.

cold day

Went over to Felixstowe for a cold doggy walk along the sea wall and a hot plate of fresh line caught cod and chip lunch, with mushy peas. Huge cargo ships coming and going to China added a touch of the bizarre.

Have finished framing the 5 pieces I am putting in the exhibition this w/e. "Crowd" is printed in the brochure, but if no-one buys it i am sure we can come to an arrangement Gillian.
I have done some more stitching to cheer up the Dancers, so i hope they find a home.
Have been stitching my two sculptures each evening so they are beginning to fill in and look as if there might be something solid at the end, and reading The Girl who kicked the hornets nest, which is engrossing in a way that one wouldn't suppose Swedish politics would be.
The access to Scandinavian crime writers in translation recently has provided some surprising information which seems to escape the notice all the news and politics programmes and newspapers. Norway and Sweden seem to have their own immigration difficulties. Poorly paid Filipinos stuck in tower blocks in Norway, and Kurds attracting violence and Neo Nazis in Sweden. Wouldn't it make more sense if we all discussed these problems internationally instead of being so parochial and re-inventing the wheel.
Our extreme right wing racist party leader is to appear on a Question Time on Thursday, raising hackles all round. I only hope the others on the panel are really well prepared with facts and figures to show what an ignorant inadequate he really is. Of course his party would have no power at all if the politicians got their fingers out and did their job properly.