Looking back

Before I start this year's photo extravaganza, here is a selection of photos of the girls from 2013.

Indulge me; it hasn't been Epiphany yet, it's still Christmas.

Made It 2013

If you are not interested in knitting, crochet or sewing, LOOK AWAY NOW.

I've made a lot of things this year.  Lots of bloody baby grows for a start, as well as two skirts for me, numerous things for the children, accessories, jumpers, massive blankets, everything.  Except I haven't made some of the things I wanted to make.  I didn't manage to knit from stash every time; in fact, the stash grew exponentially, and is still growing.  Stuff I did make from stash didn't take as much as I thought I would need - I made a lovely cowl last night; less than a ball of Rowan Big Wool used, now what do I do with the rest?  I didn't knit from the queue much.  I got a few things done, but mostly  I made stuff I wanted to wear or give away, sneakily adding them to the queue just before casting on.

Some photos:

Noah's welcome to the world blanket.

A skirt for me - measure twice, cut once, use a safety pin to hold in the extra three inches of fabric.

Handmade Hallowe'en.

A dress for Lucy.

Lucy's birthday blanket.  

A dress made from fabric chosen by Lucy.  It looked much better than I thought it would.

The smallest socks I can be bothered to make.

Cape Town socks, pts 1 and 2.

Cape Town socks, pt 3.  The purple shrunk like a bugger (non-machine sock yarn - WHY?), so they now belong to Lucy.

Simon's socks.

Emotionally distant, solves crimes by itself.

Conspicuous by their absence: a welcome to the world handmade gift for baby Robin (the blanket I was working on was just too annoying, so I am going to give it to Lucy for her 6th birthday, and make him something else); Christmas knitting (my family apart from my daughters and husband do not deserve handmade stuff); Hattie's Birthday Owl Blanket (suffered from being addictive to make, so was put away, half finished, in February and not resurrected until after her birthday); anything for Simon apart from socks (tall men do not get knitted for - thirty inches of grey knitting is boring).

There are more photos on my Ravelry page, which can be found here: http://www.ravelry.com/projects/sljuls?set=2013n&view=thumbnail

And for those of you who read this far (good Lord, why?), and aren't on Ravelry, there are photos on my flickr page here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/juliaclare/

52/52

Last Sunday of the year.  Last pair of photos of the girls of the year.  Funny.

I'll be doing it again next year; I know how pleased this must make you.  I was going to write a long thing about how much the children have grown, and all they've learned, and all I've learned from being their mother, but really, who can be bothered to do all that naval gazing, much less write it all down.  My children have taught me lots of things, and I hope that next year will be as much fun and as much chaos as this year has been.  Indulge me; I've put the first pictures from this year here too, just for contrast.

January: Lucy in her onesie, watching Tangled.
December: Lucy the big girl angel, very well behaved and beautiful.

January: Hattie in a rare moment of contemplation.

December: The grumpiest angel in the whole church.  She was very good during the Christingle, but resented wearing the halo, and discarded it as soon as possible.

I don't really think there's anymore to add to this.

Portraits of my children once a week, every week, in 2013.  And on and on and on, until they beg me to stop.

Christmas

It's been a funny sort of Christmas.  The children are having a great time, as is my husband; I am full of snot, and suffering from a very unpleasant tummy bug of some description.  I thought it was an extreme reaction to pseudoephrine, but after all this time, it can't possibly be; I haven't eaten properly for 4 days, and certainly can't face alcohol, so it's a great start to the New Year diet.

We've been trying to do family things, as it's so rare for us both to be off; yesterday, we went to see Frozen, which was fantastic.  It would be nice, just once, please, for a change, to have heroines with realistic body shapes, but apart from that, the film was lovely, the children absolutely loved it, and I may have cried a couple of times during the film, particularly at the sisters falling out bit.  Hattie, who hasn't been to the cinema before, sat on my lap for the duration, and was very excited, scared, happy, devastated and happy again at various points in the film.  She cried and cried and cried at the sad bit, but as it's immediately followed by the happy ending, got a bit confused.  She absolutely loved it, as did Lucy, and it was very refreshing to see two girls sorted things out for themselves, with the love interest just there to do the grunt work.

We were supposed to go down to Brighton today to see Simon's aunt; the family have gone, I'm here on my own, utterly shattered and completely broken after getting up, taking a wash out, putting another wash on, then making tea and toast.  I think I might just be forced to sit in front of the TV and crochet some more owls.  

Read it 2013

It's unlikely that I'll read anything else this year. Maybe an Agatha Christie or two, or perhaps I'll start "The Goldfinch". Anyway, here is the list of all the books I've read this year, with illuminating short reviews.

The Wild Places, Robert MacFarlane – gorgeous in every way
Bones are Forever, Kathy Reichs - rubbish
Tea Classified, Jane Pettigrew & Bruce Richardson - not very well written and too long
Falling Angels, Tracey Chevalier - too long
The Cleaner of Chatres, Salley Vickers – a bit soppy
The Testament of Mary, Colm Toibin – thought-provoking
The Labours of Hercules, Agatha Christie – proper Christmas reading
Tigers in Red Weather, Lisa Klaussmann – not sure what it wants to be
Wildwood, Roger Deakin – devastating and illuminating
Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, Jeannette Winterson – devastating, poor woman
Where D'You Go, Bernadette?, Maria Semple – loses its way towards the end
Mountains of the Mind, Robert MacFarlane – gorgeous, I love him
Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn – gripping, but not good
Sense and Sensibility, Joanna Trolloppe – bad in every way
The Secret Scripture, Sebastian Barry – very Irish
The Book of Summer, Emliya Hall – not very good
The Patchwork Marriage, Jane Green – predictable
Casting Off, Elizabeth Jane Howard – super
Confusion, Elizabeth Jane Howard – super
Marking Time, Elizabeth Jane Howard – super
The Bad Cook, Esther Walker – supper
Lifesaving for Beginners, Ciara Geraghty – poor
The Sorrows of an American, Siri Hustvedt – desperate
Sparkling Cyanide, Agatha Christie – strangely comforting
Frost at Morning, Richmal Crompton – can’t remember (damns with faint praise)
The Novel in the Viola, Natasha Solomons – poor
The Morville Hours, Katherine Swift – incredibly reassuring
No One Has Sex on a Tuesday, Tracy Bloom – how did this get published?The Light Years, Elizabeth Jane Howard – super (I love her)

The Private Patient, PD James – satisfyingly horrible
Full Tilt: Ireland to India with a Bicycle, Dervla Murphy – brilliant
Starlight, Stella Gibbons – not as funny as CCF, but good
The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy – can’t believe I’ve not read it before

American Gods, Neil Gaiman – funny and horrible
The Newlyweds, Nell Freudenberger – good, but a bit depressing
The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, Jonas Jonasson – pretentious
Vacant Possession, Hilary Mantel – desolate
The Gardens of Good Hope, Marian Cran – very much of its time
Dodger, Terry Pratchett – easy to read and funny
Hedge Britannia, Hugh Barker – leafy
Ines of My Soul, Isabel Allende – conquistador-y
Middlemarch, George Eliot – well worth an occasional re-read
The Rose Labyrinth, Titania Hardie – very bad indeed
Otter Country, Miriam Darlington - glorious
Raising Girls, Steve Biddulph - disappointing
In One Person, John Irving – riveting
Dead Heading, Catherine Aird – funny and satisfyingly gory

48 books. Not bad at all.

51/52

Term is finished, and I have a stinker of a Christmas cold, just in time for tomorrow.  Massive doses of Lemsip, vitamin c and paracetamol are called for; along with hot toddies, hot chocolate, mince pies and hibernating.  We're back from a couple of days in the ancestral village, and now locking ourselves in the house until Boxing Day; the cranberry sauce is cooking, the turkey is brining itself, the chestnuts are being heated up in chicken stock, and the turkey giblets are being turned into stock for the gravy tomorrow.  All is domestic bliss.  For the moment.

From our "travels":

A cafe has opened up opposite my parents' house, and we took the girls there the other day after feeding the ducks.  A babyccino each and a large slice of cake stopped all moaning and tantrums. It's a real gift to the village, even though it does feel funny paying for coffee and being able to see into your front room.  

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013.

49/52

I can't believe that it's nearly the end of the year.

We've just been away for 24 hours in Dusseldorf, just the two of us, which is the first time we've been so far away from the children together.  It was lovely, even though I was missing my little ratbags by this morning.  My parents were looking after them, and while they said that the girls had been very good, they were in no hurry to stay.  So we played a bit, we tidied a bit and we watched a bit of Tree Fu Tom.

Big world magic GO!

A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2013.

48/52

Another day, another trip to Whipsnade.  It's Hat's birthday on Tuesday, so this was her treat.  She's going to three; I can't quite believe it.

A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2013.

Food bank

I went to Tesco today.  Shocking in itself, I know.  It's Hattie's birthday party tomorrow, and having promised a Gruffalo cake, I need to deliver, so masses of cake decorating stuff was needed.  Even after the great cupboard sort of last week, I'm never quite sure what I've got, and I don't mind doubling up occasionally.  After all, none of it goes off and I will use it.

As I went in, two women representing the Trussell Trust approached me to ask if I would be happy to buy something for the food bank, and put it on the table at the front.  The table was not very full, which was quite upsetting, even given how early it was, and as I left, I heard someone being rude to the women, which isn't very nice either.  

I don't know how I feel about food banks.  On the one hand, people need helping, and giving them food when they can't afford to buy it is a very good way to help.  But it is like putting a sticking plaster on a broken leg - it makes you feel like you are doing something, but does it really help in the long term?  Surely we should go upstream, as Desmond Tutu said, and find out why people are falling into the river. Of course we need to pull them out as well, but why have they fallen in?  Is it this ghastly bedroom tax, which seems to be totally unfair, or is it the benefits cap, which is also unfair - of course you should be given less money on benefits than you can earn working, but raise wages to a living wage, don't pull the rug away from under the most vulnerable in society's feet.  

I am very privileged.  I am middle class, well educated, intelligent, relatively wealthy, married to a wonderful man who shares responsibilities with me and I'm white, which makes a difference, much as I hate to think or say it.  I have two perfect children who don't have learning difficulties or special needs - Lucy is a bit deaf, but we think it's a temporary thing, and both of us have the education, the will and the power to make sure she sees the people who she needs to see in order to help her.  As part of my commitment to actually living my faith, I am trying very hard to look at the world through other people's eyes, particularly at school.  I must try to remember that the parents of my children do not have my privileges, and when they wind me up, I must bear this in mind.  I must, to use that terrible phrase, check my privilege.  

If you are interested in food banks or the Trussell Trust, look here.  Jack Monroe writes very movingly about food poverty; you can find her blog here.  You can check your own privilege by looking in a mirror.

Taking Stock Tuesday

Making: A Paper Dolls jumper.  Almost at the dolls now. 

Cooking: An orzotto.

Drinking: Red wine.  Lovely, lovely red wine.

Reading: "The Attenbury Emeralds" by Jill Paton Walsh & Dorothy L Sayers.  About to start reading my library books.

Wanting: A holiday.

Looking: For Gruffalo crafts for Hattie's birthday on Saturday.

Playing: Even more Simpsons Tapped Out.  Totally addicted.

Deciding: On my and others' Christmas present lists.

Wishing: For more energy.

Enjoying: Watching rubbish TV.  More ancient Simpsons.

Waiting: For tomorrow to be over.

Liking: Cooking.  I made two Christmas puddings on Sunday.

Wondering: Whether I'll get my own way about next year.

Loving: My cuddly Lucy.

Pondering: Where next with babygros?

Considering: How to get the hell out of Dodge.

Watching: Candlelight flickering.
Hoping: That Hattie means it when she says that she won't wear nappies when she's 3.

Marvelling: At the speed at which children grow up.

Needing:  A wee.

Smelling: Supper.

Wearing: My amazing Forbrydelsen, self knitted jumper.

Following: An inclination.

Noticing: The end of Autumn.

Knowing: Things are going well.

Thinking: About absent friends.

Feeling: More relaxed than I have been.

Admiring: My New Hair.

Buying: Books.

Getting: Slowly a bit tipsy.

Bookmarking: Gruffalo stuff on Pinterest.

Opening: An Etsy shop.

Giggling: Over a Radio 4 adaptation of ~"Guards! Guards!"

Feeling: Thankful.

47/52

Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The collect for the day.  The will was stirred up, the fruit was plenteously brought forth and the reward will be a Christmas pudding on Jesus' birthday.

As per tradition, we all stirred and made a wish.  Hattie wished for a cat, a dog and a hampner; out loud, of course.

A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2013.

Mutter

I do not wish to mention the craft fair again. The good bits are that the product I make doesn't go off, so I don't have to chuck it and I paid for the table with earnings.  Oh well.  I've opened an Etsy shop now, so watch this space.

Apart from that, it's been an ok sort of day.  Stir up Sunday tomorrow, so I've getting all the Christmas pudding ingredients together in preparation.

Normal service will resume on Monday.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

is the Ealing 135 Christmas Fair.  I think I am as prepared as I'll ever be.  I can't find my nice wooden pegs; so will have to improvise hanging tee-shirts from the clothes airer.

My new hair is a bit too straight - I like it, and shiny and new is better than bushy and scruffy, but it is too straight, and I can never be bothered to straighten it, so I suppose it is a temporary problem.

I finished The Testament of Mary last night; a disturbing read, with lots to think about.  I think I'll have to re-read it soon.  I recommend it to any one interested in Christianity, atheism, how to start a religion, religion generally, or who has a particular interest in reading about details of crucifixion.  I don't care what the Roman did for us; what they did to us and to each other was utterly barbaric.  Do look the book up, it is jolly good.  You can buy it from here or here (probably).  I recommend Bookseller Crow on the Hill, by the way.  Via the magic of the internet, I can buy from a lovely independent supplier.  Hurrah for the internet.

I've put a round up of all the photos of the baby gros here; it's on Facebook, I don't know if you need an account to see it or not.  What I need is a website.  New Year's Resolution #1.

Randomly on Thursday

Reading: The Testament of Mary by Colm Tobin.  It's very good.

Knitting: Not at all, just more and more sewing.  I'm going to make a cream snood-y type thing for the winter.

Watching: Ancient episodes of the Simpsons.  Nice, thoughtless rubbish.

Eating: Handfuls of Smarties as a reward for all the sewing.

Plotting: Things to do after Saturday, 1:30.  First on the list is to be a bit more interesting and to stop losing readers at such a horrible rate. 

Please come to the Fair!

Final few days

I am aware how boring I am (now?), but I've really only two things on my mind at the moment.  The sewing pile is getting steadily smaller, and I am nearly ready for Saturday morning; fingers crossed I sell at least five.

The other thing is school, which ebbs and flows between good and rotten; not so much my children, who are lively and hard work, but not doing too badly, but all the STUFF around them. Today has been interesting.

Writing the blog every night when I'm tired and preoccupied is a bit of a chore.  

Things I want to write about:

CS Lewis

The bloke on the radio this morning suggesting that there should be no prosecutions for crimes during the Troubles.

The books I'm reading.

Three guesses

Another one.  I've got 9 more to do and three more evenings. Ho hum. 

Boo hiss

I have had to work tonight. How depressing.  

46/52

More parties.  Hattie was invited to a party by one of her friends - a friend that she has made independently of us, and most importantly, independently of Lucy.  It was at a soft play area in Brent Cross; as these places go, it wasn't too bad.

She excelled herself with four ham sandwiches, two egg sandwiches, a packet of crisps, five pieces of cucumber and a slice of cake.

Lucy.  A future career beckons?  I hope not, but she had a great time, banging away.

Simon took this one at our friends in Ealing. 

The social whirl continues.

A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2013.

Saturday

1. Still sewing.

2. Simon took the girls to ballet and then Lidl.  We then had a 20 minute conversation about whether it is a pepperami or a pepperoni.  

3. Hurrah for articulate, assertive children.

4. I was in the kitchen at Messy Church today.  I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it.

5. Only a week until the Ealing 135 Christmas Fair.  I'm not stressed about it.

Stuck record

I'm still sewing. I need an assistant.

This writing every day in the blog thing makes for some properly dull posts.  Sorry.