If this is your idea of a joke, then you belong in a Woody Allen film because I’m not laughing.

I started writing a blogpost on the blogger app, and the keyboard wasn't working, which was a massive pain in the bum and totally got in the way of the creative writing process.

Happy Easter if you celebrate it; we've had a really nice day with egg hunting around the garden; mean, no fun Mummy hid Care Bears that they already owned, instead of chocolate, but then relented and put some chocolate buttons in some plastic eggs for them to find as well.  The girls were most annoyed that I hadn't hidden the eggs "properly", but you know, if it was so easy, why did it take you 20 minutes hey kids?   I took some pictures but they're on the big camera and it's nearly Monday and my computer has no battery life left and and and.

I went for a run today, and my left foot was so painful, I'm going to have to go and see a physio, which will be expensive, but, and in sentences I never thought I'd write, I really want to do this half marathon, so I should spend the money now rather than risk a more permanent injury.  So rubbish.

Old age is creeping up on me.  Stuff about knitting tomorrow.

Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in a forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.

Solistice.  It's half four, and it's been dark for nearly half an hour now.  Not unusual in the Winter, but after the next few days, the light will start returning, and then the Spring, and hopefully some warmth.  I've got all the candles I can find lit, banishing the dark without turning on the electric light.  We've got the fire going too, so the house is toasty and warm.

I'm looking forward to Christmas this year.  For the first time ever, I'm knitting someone something, and it's looking as if he will be getting it still on the needles.  My fantastic Secret Santa present was a knitting bag, and it's very, very cool.

Definitely coming with me to Cambridge.

The Knit List is unchanged.  *sigh*

• A small jumper for Nicholas - Christmas knitting.  I had a bit of a disaster where I discovered that one sleeve was considerably wider than the other.  You'd think I could read a bloody knitting pattern by now.
• Burton Bear cowl for Hattie.  Brown wool found.  Placed in knitting bag with pattern and needles.  Awaiting cast on fairy.
• Wisteria jumper - located.  I have been working on one of the sleeves, and will continue to do so once the small jumper is finished.

The rest is the same as before.  Deep joy.  Still, I'll get some done in the Christmas holidays.

• The Weather in the Streets - January to June done AND SEWN TOGETHER.  July in progress.
• Owl Obsession for one of my godsons - it's for his second birthday.  I've bought the pattern.
• Hexipuff Quilt (I'm aiming to get 250/500 done by the end of June 2015) Ho hum.
• Lucy Attic24 Ripple Blanket - I've now completed 20 rows.  Yellow row next.
• Nicholas' POP blanket - There are still 9 completed squares.   Needs to be done by April, so not that long to go.  Aargh.
• An Owlet for Hattie - yarn located
• Ringo and Elwood mittens in grey and brown - well, I've bought the yarn.
• Peacock Mitten - one done, started the other.
• Coraline cardigan - moved to be finished by February; this is Britain, it will still be cold then
• Petrie top - I have some rather fine Peacock coloured yarn to make this with, but it is a spring weight top, so it is on hold until January 2015.
• Knitted Coco - got the yarn, printed out a pattern, just got to start.  Also, see above.
• Socks for me - meh
• Rainbow jumper - I have accepted that I won't find the bag, so I have bought some replacement wool.  *sob*
• A Little Birds jumper with no steeks - still planning
• Reknit an unwearably large jumper for Simon - not proving as popular an idea as I thought it would be.

Done:
Myrna Cardigan
Hattie's cardigan.
A pair of simple socks for the children
Garter Yoke Cardigan
An Owlet for Lucy
Lucy's Cowl
Hattie's Cowl
A Burton Bear Cowl for Lucy
Simon's socks
Boreal

It's our Nine Lessons and Carols tonight; the church will be full of candles and peace and should be delightful.  We're looking forward to it, especially because we're abandoning the children with a babysitter, and just going together.  Church this morning was about Mary; fourth Sunday in Advent, and she finally gets a look in.  Our vicar talked about her acceptance of Scripture, and that she must have been a very religious person in order to go against her culture, and the expectations of her family and upbringing.  The Bible is written in its time; the words need to be interpreted by each culture as they come to it. and bits like St Paul talking about the need for women to be veiled in church and that women should keep silent are clearly a load of old rubbish.  Let's smash that stained glass ceiling.  

Maybe we could sell the show if we wrote in more special effects...like exploding socks!

We started the music and lit the lights; the girls didn't enjoy it as much as we did, Hattie got very upset every time we saw the WRONG KERMIT, and both cried at the end, so another jolly family day out.

Of course, we'd booked to go to The Muppets Most Wanted before realising what a beautiful weekend it would be, so we went to the park after church to enjoy some sunshine.  I spent half an hour or so walking around; my back doesn't hurt as much if I keep moving.

A Simnel Cake for Mothers' Day.  We took it to church; it was all gone by half 11.

Portraits of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.

Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.

More crowing about how wonderful the first born daughter is, I'm afraid.  She's been ill recently, and generally grumpy and all that, and I was afraid that she wouldn't be able to make her Rainbow promise with the others in the group.  No need to worry; come hell or high water, she was going to be there to make her promise in a big clear voice, remembering the words and generally causing my heart to burst with pride.

The new Rainbow promise is not great, but I suppose we have to cater to everyone, and as far as Lucy is concerned, thinking about her beliefs is thinking about God, so let's let that one lie.  Also, it's a lost battle.

Anyway, there she is, my wonderful little Rainbow. 

March Madness - 13/31

Ever notice how 'What the hell' is always the right answer?

Another good day.  It must be the weather.  Now it has finally stopped raining and the children can go outside and play, I'm seeing a huge improvement in both behaviour and attitudes, and that includes mine towards them.  I do like this little group as individuals, but it is very hard to be ever-loving, ever-patient when you feel literally under attack.  It's been a good couple of days, and let's hope they continue.

I've been on the booze at 10am for two mornings in a row - an Ash Wednesday service followed by a lovely mass at Lucy's school this morning.  In the car, Lucy gave me some helpful hints about how to behave during her school communion.  There is a lot of standing up and sitting down, and if I don't know what to do, I should just watch her, as she will be doing it right, and there is a lot of singing, and I must just have a go and practise with her at home.  I'm also not allowed to talk or go to the toilet.  I like to think I acquitted myself well.

It's Lent, and a season of self examination has begun.  I don't intend to indulge in any long blog posts about religion or how mindfulness has changed my parenting; I will probably mention some of these in passing.  No chocolate Lent started woefully, when I helped myself to a Jaffa Cake after church on Wednesday.  Ho hum.

I'm going to sit in front of the television and do some knitting.  I doubt I'll have any time to do any sewing; I might just have to carve some out next week.

March Madness - 6/31

Handmade Monday

At the tail end of last year, one of the members of the crochet groups on Facebook put up a picture of her weather blanket.  I'm not sure if I can link to it, but it's here, if you can see it.  It's very lovely, with its days of sunshine, rain, dreich and snow, so magpie that I am, I had to have one of my own.  Hurrah.  Of course, it has to be slightly different from the one in the picture, and have special days marked in, especially as we have some very special days this year, what with one thing and another.

Here are my January squares:

Blue is for rain.  Grey is for, well, grey.  Purple is for bank holidays.  Turquoise is for cold days.  Yellow is for sunny days.  I make a judgement at the end of the day based on the overall weather, so a rainy day with some sun is still a rainy day, and a grey day with some rain is still a grey day.  

I'm trying to sew them together as I go along.  I should probably block what I've already sewn together as it's a bit, well, crappy looking at the moment.  It should be 20 squares by 20 rows in the end, so 400 squares in total.  I feel a bit weird thinking of it like that, but actually I can't be any farther forward with it than I am, and keeping the record means I can go back to it as I feel like it. 

For those interested:

Red will be for birthdays - Simon, Granny, Grandpa, Tim, Lucy, Grandad, me, Jane, Hattie

Pink is for Valentine's Day

Dark blue will be for religious holidays - Shrove Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Easter (3), Christmas, Boxing Day

White for snow

Pale yellow for the Solstices

Baby Blue for my nephew's birthday

Those, plus 365 days, will make 400 days, and 400 squares. 

One way or another, it will be finished in January 2015.  And bordered.  *cries*

New Year's Resolutions

I don't think I made any New Year's resolutions last year, and I'm not entirely sure I want to this year either. January is such a delightful time to start something new - not drinking, running outside, exercise generally, eating less; even thought it's technically the beginning of the year, everyone knows that life begins in September with the new school year.

So I won't be making any resolutions per se, but will be applying this "philosophy" to myself.  For those who can't be bothered to follow links, basically, setting goals is unrealistic, and leads to heartache and pain.  Far rather work on the process that leads to the goal - so if you want to lose weight, you need to eat less and move more.  Your process then is to move more and to watch the calories, and the result will be that you will lose weight without trying.

Apparently.  I'm a bit skeptical, but as my mind is as open as the Nursery doors, I am prepared to give it a try.  So with that in mind, and with this in mind as well, this is roughly what I want to do this year.

1. Move - I run around all day, I am on my feet a lot, but it's not enough.  I have to do that Shred again, and I have to move enough to get out of breath every day.

2. Make - I know I do a lot of creative things.  I love it.  So why not do more of it?

3. Tidy - I've sorted out a lot of stuff recently, binned some, sent a lot to charity shops, but there's always more cluttering up our home and lives.

4. Groom - I have a lot of make-up, lots of nice clothes, some gorgeous shoes, some lovely jewellery. So no more slobbing around in the GirlGuiding hoodie.  Exceptions to the rule - when hungover.  Or tired.  Or in a mood.

5. Reflect - the children are growing up, and I don't want to miss this.  I want to allow more time without screens and things in the way, just to enjoy being around them.  Then, when they're in bed, write it all down, so I can look back at it later, and they can cringe over their super-embarrassing share-ent.

I don't believe in radical life changes; they don't work in the long-term, but this seems, well, do-able.  Let's see.

Stir up Sunday

Another domestic couple of days.  The Christmas pudding is bubbling away in its little ceramic pot with its foil and baking parchment lid - another hour and a half to go and then it's ready for Christmas.  I'm using Dan Lepard's recipe again - I made an Epiphany pudding in January, but this year I am being more traditional and making Christmas pudding the weekend before Advent.

The collect for the day:

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.

So stir up we did, and the whole family had a go with mixed results.  Harriet did not want to, Lucy patted it like a cat with a toy and Simon gave it a good stir; I made lots of wishes while I was stirring away, mostly to do with the extraordinary amount of cooking I've done this weekend and the horrible cold that is lurking at the back of my throat, in my ears and on the ulcers on my lips, cheeks and tongue.  Yuck. 

Parents' Evening on Wednesday and a Book Fair, and dear Lord, please let the parents plenteously bring forth the cash so that we can turn over at least £400, although I'm prepared to make up the difference, so that the Travelling Book people aren't too annoyed with us.   

Next Saturday I'm at the Ealing 135 Christmas Fair, so wish me luck for that.  I've got about 13 baby gros ready and want to make another 10 or so, which may well be wishful thinking or may be completely possible, I don't as yet know.  I may even sell one or two. 

Pink gingham stegosaurus anyone?  Other stegosauri also available.  Probably.

Trivia

The cure for not having any time to write anything is to sit down, turn on the computer and just get on with it. I am waiting for my supper to cook; curiously enough, it's the same as last time I wrote in the blog, orzo from Nigellissima, but this time with baby broad beans, chorizo and stock instead of plain boiling water.  One day I'll make the recipe as written, but as it is a bit of a store cupboard standby, I just use what ever is at hand.

It's been a busy few weeks - I've been out a lot, twice with my husband, shock horror, and we have had a great time, although two hangovers on two consecutive Saturday mornings were less fun.  Last Saturday was Messy Church, where I locked myself in the kitchen, and didn't have anything to do with other people's children, which suits me fine.  We have obviously tapped into a need in Hanwell with our Messy Church - the inaugural event had 74 guests, last week we had 114.  Of course, the General Synod, in their infinite wisdom, have voted against women bishops, so all we will hear is that the Church of England is out of touch. It is infuriating.  We work so hard to be relevant - our Messy Church is exciting and involving and full of fun things to do and worship pitched at just the right level, we are heavily involved in the Winter Night Shelter charity that is for rough sleepers in Ealing, and yet all you hear is that we hate gays and women.  Rubbish.  Maybe the time has come to do some proper shouting.

Mind you, I've got a lot of shouting to do about Disney bloody Princesses - what a lot of old crock.  Big eyes, powerless and totally wet.  Mind you, the boys don't come out much better - the Beast is the only one with any sort of back story - the Prince in Cinderella is rubbish, just a cipher.  Prince Philip (what a stupid name for a prince I scoffed, oh hang on) is alright I suppose, but he is also a bit pathetic in lots of ways.  The other message from Disney is that you can only be a useful woman if you are old and a bit bats - Mrs Potts, the Fairies, the Fairy Godmother.  Grr, grr, grr, and it is only because I was forced to watch three back to back that I am on the old high horse about it all.

In crafting news, I am knee deep in baby gros - I think I have made 13 so far - for the Ealing 135 Christmas fair on the 1st of December, and as they won't sew themselves, I had better get on with it.  My target is 25 made, and I'm hoping to sell a lot of them as well as getting orders for others.  A girl can dream.

Pictures to follow.

Ravelry, Olympics, Opening Ceremonies and other topical things

We are desperately trying to leave the house today; yesterday was spent inside watching CBeebies all day long, and I am slowly going berserk.  Hattie has bronchiolitis again - well, it's a holiday, what else is she going to do, and Lucy technically has chicken pox, although I think as her spots have faded, and were never that bad really, it was a very mild dose.  Today, however, I have decided that we are going out - to Hobbycraft, to Costa, to Ealing Town Hall, to the library, to the garden centre and to somewhere else desperately exciting like Sainsburys.  Unfortunately, my plans have been derailed by Mr Tumble, who is our current hero, but at least it means I get 10 minutes to myself to witter on about the Olympics.

I watched the Opening Ceremony, half expecting it to be, well, a bit rubbish.  And bits of it were, especially the whole green and pleasant land nostalgia for something that never existed anyway at the beginning.  Then Ken as Brunel, portraying him as a fat cat industrialist, when he was more that annoyed me.  But then the rings were forged and rose in the air, and I decided that this was generally a great experience and I was going to stop huffing and enjoy it.  Of course, Daniel Craig, the Queen, blah blah, sense of humour and all that, Gawd bless yer NHS, GOSH, and I could have done without the commentary, but by the time I worked out how to turn it off, it was the athletes parade and I needed it for that. 

Interesting what they chose to celebrate - I think Danny Boyle's vision was the way that the left would like to portray Britishness - diverse, interesting, tolerant and religious in a non-specific way.  There was a lot of God in the ceremony, what with Jerusalem, Bread of Heaven and Abide with Me, but it wasn't specifically the Christian God, just "God", someone who everyone could relate to; this non-denominational faith based approach is rare, unfortunately.  I think the majority of the country has some form of faith, and we should celebrate it sometimes; it should unite us more than tear us apart.

Well, what with all that deep thought and provocative tweeting and twitter reading, I managed to cast on 64 stitches for my mitten three times, each time getting a different number.  The Ravellenic Games are taking place along with the other Olympics, and I am making a pair of mittens with tiny blue hippos on.  So far, so good, although I found the ribbing tedious, and I need to make the mittens longer than lovely Spilly Jane's teeny hands.

The arrival of my children indicates that Mr Tumble has gone back to Tumbleland, so I'd better go and be a mummy properly.  *sigh*

Buy baby gros!

Not quite in the right spirit

I go to church most weekends.  Sometimes, if I can tie it in with childcare, I like to go in the week, but that's not really been happening much since Hattie stopped reliably sleeping for half an hour at ten.  While I have terrible problems with the hierarchy, the way the message has been corrupted over the past 2000 years, the way the Church has historically treated its members, St Paul and other minor characters, I am basically a Church of England supporter, a Christian and a fully paid up member of our local religious community.  I am not interested in being told that I am wrong about this; I will not force my views on you, please don't tell me I'm an idiot for believing in God and Jesus and the resurrection and the life of the world to come.  I also don't think that church is only about after you're dead, I am doing my bit to make things better on this side of the grave too.  I am as heavily involved with the homeless shelter that is run out of the Church Hall on a Monday night as I can be (I do a bit of washing and I cook the occasional meal) and I teach Junior Church.

Ah.  Junior Church.  Why do something with a modicum of professionalism and efficiency when you can get a whole bunch of people involved and run it by committee?  I am a teacher, I may have mentioned this before, and I have a professional attitude towards my little class; I turn up late with a massive hangover, two screaming kids and no resources.  This has only happened once, and I am never, ever going out on a Saturday when I have to teach on a Sunday again in my life ever.  That minor aberration aside, I do try to plan something that is relevant to the children, loosely based on the text, and interactive and fun. 

This morning, as I sat in the car on our, late again, way to church, Simon asked me whether I wanted to take the girls to creche, or stay in church and sleep listen to the sermon.  I opted to stay in church, on the grounds that someone would try to get me involved with this week's Junior Church lesson if I showed up there.  We hadn't been there 5 minutes when one of the leaders asked me to fill in as someone wasn't there.  To cut a long and increasingly dull story short, I ended up teaching on no notice, with no materials and no real knowledge.  The woman I was covering for had printed out the wrong week's work and had prepared completely inappropriate resources, so I basically busked for 45 minutes and then put up a display. 

I was a bit cross about this, but being the consummate professional, just got on with it.  After the service, I was chatting to Angela when along marched Colonel Mike, husband of the woman I stood in for, who proceeded to be a total regimental tit for about five minutes.  Fortunately Hattie can be relied on to be sick after three biscuits, so I was able to dash off while he was hauling Angela over the coals for not running Junior Church the way it would be run in the Army.  My slapping hand was itching so hard, but I know it's not the done thing in church.  I so desperately wanted to tell him that we are not subalterns on a charge, so he should just shut up and listen to us when we explain why things aren't run the way he thinks they should be.  Honestly.  We have a get together next week, and I really hope he and his wife aren't there; I am annoyed by her letting me down - I know your son is unwell, but in your position, I would leave Daddy at home with the ill one, and take the well one to Church so I could fulfil my commitment. 

Nothing says "lovely little Christian community" like a strong desire to punch someone in the nose.