Because I'm not a Vanderbilt, suddenly I'm white trash? I grew up in Bel Air, Warner. Across the street from Aaron Spelling. I think most people would agree that's a lot better than some stinky old Vanderbilt.

It's about crafty stuff again, not politics, so don't feel you have to read on.

Handmade Monday again, and I should probably do some sort of update on the list of a Year of Projects as well.

The List:

Wisteria - on hold; but I've just bought some more yarn for it

Idlewood - split for the sleeves; plugging away on the body
Blue and Grey Socks - one sock done still done (lost in the stash)
Elephant blanket - two stripes still almost finished.  For Hattie's birthday (December)
Peacock Mittens - one finished, bar the thumb (still) (lost in the stash too)
Ringo and Elwood mittens - still queued (still want to make them, but the urge lessens)

Owl Blanket - finished and done
Paper Dolls - finished and done
Peerie Flooers - finished and done
Alphabet Blanket for Noah - done
Granny's a Square Afghan - done

Hexipuff Quilt - 147/500 hexipuffs done (I'm going to take it to Cambridge with me next week)

The Weather in the Streets - 67/400 squares done (there have been 90 days this year - that is NOT BAD AT ALL)

It's only now, when I don't really feel like doing anything, that I realise exactly how much I do.  I sat in Ealing A&E with my crochet, unable to focus; just sitting is jolly HARD WORK.

I have a new-found respect for people who live with chronic pain all the time, and still manage to be cheerful and positive.

March Madness 31/31 - I did it.  31 posts of varying interest to other people; although some had more than 50 page views.  Inconceivable.  I might take a bit of a break in April, you'll be devastated to hear.

I'll leave you with a picture of my Wisteria jumper.  Without me in it.

I'm having terrific trouble with it.  I'm not entirely sure that it won't be much, much too big for me, and I'm decreasing like crazy across the back in a desperate attempt to reduce the sheer volume of bulky knitted fabric.  Oh dear, oh dear.  

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.

You don't need glasses, you're just weak, WEAK

I spent the afternoon in Ealing A&E, waiting to see a doctor about my back.  It's fine, apparently, and should take about a week to stop hurting.  It's not whiplash, which is a good thing.  Shame it's meant I've got nothing else to say.

Maybe I'll be more inspired tomorrow. Sorry.

Cruising down the Sunset Strip, and there's nothing that's not, not within my grip

Someone crashed into my car today.  I'm not really in the mood to write anything deeply profound, or even to show off my new top.  I'm OK, just shocked, worn out, adrenaline depleted and grumpy with a sore back, the car can almost certainly be mended and apart from a bit of a wasted afternoon of being completely out of it, there's no harm done.

Actually, what the hell.  Another Coco.  Made out of the fleece stash.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest

Reasons to go on strike.

I'm a good teacher, not outstanding, not bad, but good.  I enjoy my job, and I work very hard.  My little band of happy three year olds are doing very well, thanks, and I often go the extra mile or so. I'm contracted to do about 20 hours a week, but generally end up doing at least 25.  It doesn't sound much, particularly when you hear that the average for a full time primary school teacher is a 60 hour week, but I am part time for two very good reasons, and it's only because the children are in nearly full time education that I can do the hours I do.  Last year was far more stressful, as I could only work extra hours after school; at least now I can go in early and work in the staff room.

If you really want your children to be at school for 50 weeks a year, because that is more convenient for you, take a long hard look at yourself. 

If you think that the main purpose of school is to be free childcare, remember that we are parents too, we have lives outside our work, and we have childcare problems too.

If you seriously believe that teachers start at 5 to 9, finish at 3 and have 13 weeks of freedom a year, grow up.

If you believe that those who can do, those who can't teach, we can never be friends.

If you don't yet realise that childhood is short and precious, and shouldn't be spent entirely at school, learn this.

If you believe that teachers are solely responsible for your child's education, look at what you've learned in your life.  How much of that happened between the ages 5 and 18?  

It doesn't fit the pattern, but I've found that the parents most likely to complain about the inconvenience of a strike day are also the ones most likely to withdraw their child for holidays during term time.  Apparently, that's not disruptive.

It's not a race to the bottom.  It's not a crap jobs competition.  Our education system is being constantly undermined by someone whose main qualification for the job appears to be "I went to school."  A private style system is a great idea, but there's a reason that that costs 10 grand a year.  

I won't go on.  I will strike again; regretfully, it seems to be the only way to be heard, even if it damages the thing we are trying so very hard to protect.

It's good to be merry and wIse; it's good to be honest and true; It's best to be off with the old love; Before you are on with the new.

What with all this sewing, I bet you are all deeply concerned about the state of my knitting.

Here is my latest WIP.  It is a lovely jumper, with a big cowl.  Everything I've read suggests that it basically knits itself, but apparently leaving it mouldering on the sofa doesn't work. 

Cascade 220, from the States about a year ago.  Simon is going out there in a few weeks, so I thought I'd better knit some of it up before then, particularly as I want him to bring more back, plus a load of fabric from Hawthorne Fabrics, probably the lemon print and something equally beautiful.  Can't load up him up too much APPARENTLY, although what's the point of him going away if he's not going to be useful.

I've been on strike today.  I will write about it later.  I don't feel the need to apologise or explain, but I quite fancy a rant.

March Madness, 26/31

My dear, here we must run as fast as we can, just to stay in place. And if you wish to go anywhere you must run twice as fast as that.

I don't normally reference my title quote in its post, but this one is as good a description of teaching as you'll ever find.

Monday again.  No finished objects, and actually one finished object has been unravelled a bit to make the neck less uncomfortable. It's currently sitting on the table, looking a bit sorry for itself.  I've cut out a Coco made out of pink fleece, it'll be my Wednesday afternoon sewing, I think.  I've had a bit of a look around, and it doesn't look that difficult - ballpoint needle, zigzag stitch and off we go.  I've not really thought about nap or anything technical like that, I'm just pleased to have used up a bit more of the fleece stash problem.  If it looks OK, I'll make a matching white one, as well as fleecy tops for the girls for summer.

The writer of one of sewing blogs I like to read, Sew Dolly Clackett, is getting married, and another blogger, who is here at Rhinestones and Telephones, has organised a sew-along to celebrate her wedding.  I bought some fabric at the Knitting and Stitching Show with a vague idea of making something #sewdollyclackett but, you know, that just seems a bit weird as I'm not really part of the online sewing community.  (Is that a thing?  Do I want to be part of it?)  I'm going to make a Cambie dress at some point, and will probably use my super new fabric, but I don't know when.  Maybe, if I get really organised, on Wednesday evening, I'll make time to cut out some fabric.  Maybe I'll decide that joining in really IS my thing, and just go for it.  Anyway, I'll be writing at great length about it. 

The fabric is ever so pretty, with all the little dollies.  And a Cambie dress doesn't look that hard really.  

My February squares are finished and are ready to crochet together.  I think I'll refrain from posting any more pictures until that momentous event has passed.

March Madness - 24/31

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music

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

Not ballet practise, but Lucy warming up prior to doing the 30 Day Shred.  She is very keen on it, and as far as I'm concerned, someone in the house should be doing it.  A few weeks ago, Lucy was working out and a naked Hattie was jumping off the arm of the sofa onto me.  Life here is never dull.

A new game at the park. Hattie flings herself onto the moving roundabout, then locks and rolls off.  I don't think there's any else to say about that.

Insanity is hereditary; you catch it off your children.

Portraits, 12/52

See other people's admittedly far better photographs of their doubtlessly far less insane children here.

Nobody but a monumental bore would have thought of having a honeymoon in Budleigh Salterton

We went to the revival of Blithe Spirit earlier this month.  It was my mum's significant birthday, so I bought tickets and we went together.  It was jolly good, especially but not exclusively Angela Lansbury.  The play was reviewed this evening on Saturday Review; I'm not sure everyone liked it as much as Mum and I did.

Of course it's massively misogynistic, it was written by a very waspish gay man, what were you expecting? A feminist tract?  Of course it's a bit dated, it was dated when it was written in wartime, rationing Britain; of course it's a bit old fashioned, it's 75 years old.  It was played entirely seriously and everyone had spot on timing; we loved it.  

No one mentioned Ruth's clothes, though, which was a shame.

This photo is from the official set photos, I've not suddenly transformed into a marvellous photographer.  The grey frock is rather wonderful isn't it? She wore an absolutely TERRIFIC red frock later on, simply gorgeous, but I can't find a picture, annoyingly enough.

Anyway, if you can get a ticket, go.  It is fabulous.

March Madness, 22/31

Those who educate children well are more to be honoured than they who produce them; for these only gave them life, those the art of living well.

Ever had one of those weeks where everything at school just seems to work, and there are no curveballs at all?  No, me neither, but this week has been pretty close.  The one with epilepsy has been an angel this week, no tantrums or major seizures at all; both the autistic children have been manageable, thanks in part to a new member of staff, who is just wonderful; the non-English speaker is more or less under control, again thanks to our new helper, who speaks fluent Arabic, and has done all sorts of assessments with him; of course, he needs support, and really hasn't got a clue.  So it's been quite a good week, quite calm, quite low key, and I'm content.




The only downside was getting all my assessment data in place by today, which I haven't completely done - the two autistic boys aren't on the system, and the littlest one isn't either, but those can be fixed easily.  I'm striking on Wednesday, which I'm not looking forward to, but I feel is the only thing to do.  I have a very, very heavy heart about it though.  Gove must GO, but there must be an easier way, one that isn't so disruptive.




There's not much else going on; even though things are easier at school at the moment, it's still taking up all of my thoughts and energy.  Not long until the Easter holidays though.




In other news, I found a fabric like this in Hobbycraft, and now I'm obsessed with making a cloud dress.  I'm not too old at 36 for a dress made of clouds, am I?





March Madness 21/31

Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.

Together at last. A very easy make from Mollie Makes, and so gorgeous.  The girls love them, and I'm considering making myself one in purple.  

I don't have much to say tonight. School is going well, the girls are happy, the craft mania progresses.  I wore an almost entirely handmade outfit on Wednesday, and my colleagues were very complimentary.  My Head, a knitter, was very impressed, but teased me about making everything except my tights.  I think when I have an urge to make my own shoes, it'll be time to take a long hard look at my life.

March Madness, 20/31

She turned to the sunlight, And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbour: "Winter is dead.”

Spring has sprung in West Ealing.

Hattie has been borrowing the camera.

Her view of the world is, well, enlightening.  One of the pictures she took was of the mantelpiece.

Can you see the twigs in the vase?  We collected them a few weeks ago, and they've been sitting in the front room since then.  I've used some flowers from a cushion I made for my friend's wedding last year, and have been working on some daffodils.

They need a good block, so they still count as a WIP, and I want to make a few more.  The green things are leaves; they need to be sewn behind the daffodils, and I need to make a whole lot more.  

I'll have a go at taken some better photos in the next few weeks.  And I've got some more decorations for the branches.

Hurrah for Spring.

March Madness - 19/31

Saying nothing.... Sometimes says the most

Sometimes, there's nothing else to say.  A picture by Lucy.

If you’re going to let one stupid prick ruin your life, you’re not the girl I thought you were.

Monday night, fell asleep in the bath.  Do you want more wine, asks my husband.  There's a pile of stuff to do, but I can't, I'm too tired.

A brooch, made for Lucy from a Mollie Makes kit.  She loves it.  She doesn't want to wear it in case she loses it.  Hattie wants hers yesterday.  It is on its way.  Slowly.

Today wasn't even that bad, as they go.  We had an Arabic speaking TA to help with one of my autistic children, and a Polish volunteer.  Amazing the difference that made.  Fantastic, beautiful, almost relaxing, except for the other autistic boy insisting on taking his trousers and pants off outside; at least he knows to do that before doing a wee.  For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like screaming as I left work.  Or lying on the chairs and crying quietly.  Mr Gove, you know nothing.  You have never been bitten or scratched, hit, kicked or slapped at work, and you've probably only worked with people who understand what needing a wee feels like.  But go ahead and undermine our profession.  Someone I correspond with on Twitter told me that she has parents who cannot spell their own child's name.  You have genuinely no idea what happens in schools, and how we stagger on through it all, teaching, caring, loving, guiding.  But please, undermine us some more.  You have no idea.  No idea at all.

This wasn't intended to be political, but it was.  The personal is political, and the political is personal.

March Madness - 17/31  

From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced

What a technically terrible photo.  The tube was packed, which feels wrong for a Sunday lunchtime.  They eventually got a seat, shared between them, and sitting together, with holding hands, were as good as gold for most of the journey.  Too many commas?  Who can say?  Not Mr Gove, that's for sure.

A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2014.

Week 11.  Where does the time go?

March Madness - 16/31

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

Some things.

We went to the Knitting and Stitching Show at Olympia today.  It was brilliant, but I'm very tired now.  There's nothing like wandering slowly around massive halls, behind super slow people to utterly wear you out.  I didn't take any photos; be grateful for small mercies.

I bought an Anna dress pattern (late to the party), another paper pattern (New Look 6145), about 6 metres of fabric in 3 different patterns, sewing machine needles, wool to make cardigans for the girls, sock yarn for me, a massive purple cone of yarn from Ireland to make a cardigan for me, some ribbons and lace, and some undyed yarn to dye with Lucy for a new cowl and hat combination for her and her sister (probably will be orange, knowing Lucy).  Less than I normally buy ACTUALLY.

It's all very exciting, and I can't wait to start making my dresses.  Apparently the New Look pattern isn't as easy as it says on the pattern envelope, and I might need to buy a new foot for my sewing machine - a concealed zip foot, how exciting.  I might even need a new "how to" sewing book.  

My Coco dress got its second public outing; I am very, very fond of it, and next month might even make another.  After all the new stuff I got today, I probably need a Lent period of reflection and meditation.  Although I do need to go to Hobbycraft to get some more supplies for the Weather Blanket, or maybe I could use Stylecraft, but it seems silly buying 1 ball when the postage is the same for 10, and...

March Madness - 15/31

It is ever so much easier to be good if your clothes are fashionable

Last Sunday, after making the amazing Coco dress, I attempted to finish the dress I'd started a few weeks ago.  It's in a quilting cotton, so very thin, possibly even a bit see-through, so I had to line it; a new adventure.  I used a bright, bright blue lining fabric, as well as bright blue bias bindings, instead of sodding facings.

I wrote a big blog post about the dress, and all the good things, and what I'd learned and all that, and sodding Blogger lost it.  Grr.  Anyway.  It's a fabulous dress, bit small around the bust because the lining stretches less than the main fabric; but without the top underneath, it fits fine.  Might have to make a bright blue cardigan.

How do you like my rockabilly quiff?  That's what happens when you brush your hair without wearing specs. 

March Madness 14/31

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

There’s your act of true love—riding across the fjords like a valiant, pungent reindeer king.

I went to Lucy's Parents' Evening early; she is a phenomenal reader and behaves exemplarily, apparently.  Which I knew, especially the behaviour bit.  She is a great reader though, she absolutely loves books, and has started being able to read pretty much anything I give her, including those dreadful Rainbow Fairy Magic books.  I was stupidly proud sitting opposite her teacher, an unfamiliar position for me; a bit like gamekeeper turned poacher.  

There's not a lot more to say tonight.  We all have tummy bugs of varying levels of severity, and tomorrow will be fun as Lucy will be off school, having thrown up everywhere this afternoon.  Her poor teacher; I'm surprised he was so lovely about her.

March Madness: 12/31

You mean you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword and we'll try to kill each other like civilized people, is that it?

Mollie Makes is a lovely magazine, full of pretty things done by interesting people; I mean, who doesn't want a wire mobile with bottles filled with wild flowers hanging in their white walled, massive open space?

Each month brings a new and exciting present to make; and I have quite the collection now.

My husband finds this extraordinary; even after 10 years together, he barely knows me!

I've decided in the interest of marital harmony that I should try to make at least half of the collection, turning them into something lovely instead of, well, mess.  The first one I'm going to make is for the children (obviously); a fox brooch each for their duffle coats. 

I have a very silly fox collar that I bought from the Renegade Craft Fair last year, and the girls (Lucy) are very jealous.  Hopefully it won't take that long to make.

March Madness 11/31