all in the mind...

My recent reading has been confined to quick bursts, magazines, newspapers, blogs, quick snapshots of what writers are thinking.

I've been reading about simplifying and calming and mindfulness.

I've found sense in articles about slowing down, taking time, conscious action and mindfulness. I've been trawling blogs for sketchbooks and journals and diaries. I want to take some time out to start recording and marshalling my ideas.

As usual I have been cramming and stuffing too many different things into what is never going to be a flexible amount of time. I thought I had a quieter week ahead but I find I am out most evenings and committed to various pieces of work.

It's the Easter holidays next week and its the first school holiday that I'm going to spend working since 1997. That's a long time and something that I will need to get used to for the foreseeable future.

My aim this week is to concentrate and embrace mindfulness. I am going to work and live with more method and less madness. I'm also going to:

- clean house for granny inspection

- make easter egg tree displays

- sow more seeds

- pot up seedlings

- clean windows (are revolting)

- sew SOMETHING

- do some more of newborn baby blanket

- go swishing (tonight)

- book club (tomorrow)

- girls' night in (thursday)

- get some flaming exercise as my bottom will start falling off chairs shortly if I do not

- write some reports

- take stuff to the charity shop

- be nice to children and husband

- finalise a knitting project I've dreamt up

- prepare for knitting meeting (I've dreamt of having meetings about knitting!)

- draw a bit

- knit a bit

- watch ER (because I keep forgetting and it's the last series)

- clean the inside of our kitchen cupboards

- make new list for NRH

-

seed stitch

I found these in my greenhouse. I like to make flapjacks and gingercake. I used to be given treacle sandwiches as a child. We have these tins around the house, filled with pencils, pens, plant labels and scissors. I was interested to see how they'd faded in the winter sun.

I cleared the greenhouse a couple of weeks ago and started to sow seeds. I would love to say that I am passionate about gardening. I am not. I enjoy the initial process of clearing and sowing, the hope and the anticipation engages me quite nicely.

I do not enjoy the weeding and nurturing demands of flower beds and vegetable patches. It's a time-heavy business and, frankly, who has the time?

Every year I nag myself to try a little harder and make a little more time, that the fruits of my sowings will be bountiful and useful.

This year is no exception.

I have sown tomatoes, squash, pumpkin, climbing beans, courgette, radish basil and pots of sunflowers as I'd like to create a summer hedge along our drive - just for fun, to see if it works. My seeds are starting to push through and I enjoy the patchwork nature of the seedtrays and the repeated patterns formed by pots and emerging seedlings. I have sweetcorn, rocket, parsley and beetroot and I am sure there will be plenty more. The months of April and May are my most enthusiastic (before the bindweed appears).

NRH (see projectforty) has fixed the waterbutt, cleared the base of the apple trees and is busy planning the new chicken run. He is an unexpected treasure in the garden. He takes on the jobs I struggle with, the edging, the digging and most energetically, the chopping without complaint as long as I have provided clear instructions and do not query the result (often quite drastic).

As you can see, I need all the help I can get. This is the allotment we share with my neighbour. It's right outside my kitchen window and it's big, and weedy and bumpy. We've had it for a couple of years and although we get some decent produce from it, it's always looked a mess. Our allotments are 200 years old this year so we're all agreed it's time to make a bit of an effort.

So, now you know, when I'm not knitting or sewing or thinking about knitting or sewing, I'm here, looking gorgeous in my wellies and my headscarf.

UK DIY

I visited the Turnpike Gallery in Leigh, Lancashire on Saturday to meet Elizabeth Smith, one of the artists exhibiting there.

I was born in Leigh, Lancashire in 1960-something-or-other. The Turnpike was opened just as I left. I recognised nothing. I saw no memorable landmarks. I had no recollection of anything I saw in Leigh on Saturday. I found that rather un-nerving.

The Turnpike is currently hosting UK DIY which is linked to the Manchester Craft Mafia and appears to be a collective doing great justice to the craft world in the UK at the moment.

I'd arranged to meet Elizabeth and talk about her work as part of an article I've pitched to a magazine editor. It's my first professional attempt at freelance writing so I'm keen that all goes well and I represent her accurately. Actually I'm rather nervous.

Elizabeth was inspiring, not only because of the beautiful work she brought with her and her exhibit at the Turnpike but also she made me realise that my aspirations are not that unattainable. I'm not sure my skills are comparable but my intention to work with and around textiles, be that stitching, knitting or crochet is strong and, really, I should just go for it.

In the afternoon, we went to St. Helen's, another blast from my past. Most of my family lived and worked around St. Helens including uncles, grandparents, aunts. Pilkingtons and Pimbletts were the familiar names and I remember being aware that Pilkingtons paid everyone's wages and Pimbletts supplied the pies. The latter has now gone into administration, probably pinched about by Greggs and supermarkets. Some of the back street names seemed familiar but, again, it's a town I don't recognise from my childhood. Am I really that old? Is it my memory that has dwindled or have these towns just been altered beyond recognition?

necessity - mother of inspiration

This is more a rant than a delight...so if you're feeling delicate, please turn away.

I am playing with my luscious (or should I say lurrrrrrrrrrrrsh as some do in these western parts) laptop whilst ignoring the news. It's about 10.15pm.

I loathe the news and it inspires me simply because the daily grimness is making me determined to make things better as much as I can in my own quite idiosyncratic way.

One of the newsreaders has just been promoting the UK Recession Tracker - now, what is the point of knowing that in Middlesborough there are 24 people chasing every job when there are 32 people chasing every job in Basildon? How does that make things better?

The internet was a mere blip when the last recession came. Our current financial crisis may be extended and deepened by everyone poring over online statistics and credit crunch horror stories instead of dreaming up great business ideas or money making schemes.

My solution? Move away from the screens, stop watching the horror and get those mindmaps buzzing. As I understand it, necessity has been the mother of invention since Billy caveman wanted to move the bison carcass to the cave and knocked himself up a wheel.

I'm going to concentrate on making and creating rather than watch our bank account dwindle. If I make money, fine. The overdraft won't shrink if I just worry about it. Far better to think of something to do to make the money than simply stand still and watch it as it disappears.

So....make, write, create, craft, stitch, knit, work and enjoy.

That's my plan.

seeing red....

I am obsessed by red and, in particular, red in combination with white.

I have a red watch, red boots, red shoes.

I had red nails last week.


I would like to dye my hair red (although with my complexion, that will remain an idea).


I like red pens, red ink, red pencils, red paint.


I'm partial to red flowers, dahlias especially.





I have spent the last two years lusting over, dreaming about and desiring a red laptop. If I had over a grand lying about, I would have opted for the Sony Vaio. Instead, I chose a little red Dell, just enough for my requirements and, more importantly, it's red.
*

Naturally, I opened the Saturday papers and Dell appear to have upgraded or up-specked or whatever they do but I don't mind. I love my red Dell and hope it will serve me well.
*

The laptop is one of several steps I am making to reclaim the space in our house that is, notionally, mine. I have blogged about this before and I do not wish to revisit my list of complaints.
*
Here is a list of things that need to be done:

- clean out the playroom (now family room) including remove guinea pig run and collection of cardboard boxes and wrapping materials
- organise all craft books so that I can herd them into my space
- unplug existing family computer
- transfer all music files from former family computer on to new family computer
- recycle all materials collected lovingly but realistically unusable
- find suitable boards/frames/pictures for walls
- sort out hoarded magazine stash
- clean desk
- complete stocktake (I already have a spreadsheet - how lame is that?)
- find a lovely chair and a lovely lamp to sit under for contemplation and daydreaming
*

Make a door.
*

Add a lock?
***
(My family is, in equal measure, both my greatest inspiration and my greatest distraction!)

near and dear....

A friend of mine who blogs at http://www.littlebrowndog-littlebrowndog.blogspot.com/ has, almost single-handedly, organised and produced a book about the 200 year old allotments in our village. Added to this she has been a bit of a star by organising BBC's Gardener's Question Time to visit our nearest town, Malmesbury. She is, quite simply, a marvel.

*

I met her a few years ago now and although she doesn't know it, as I probably wouldn't be quite so gushy to say it, she has been a bit of an inspiration to me. She is a writer and has written for all sorts of magazines - something I've always wanted to do. She is interminably positive and helpful and constructive - something I've always wanted to be!

*

I won't go on too much as I really don't want to go all SWF on anyone but I just wanted to say "well done!"

*

As an aside, I have an allotment on the 200 year old allotment site. It's right by my kitchen window. One of the reasons we came here 7 years ago was because there was an allotment next door. This allotment is the biggest manifestation of the rule

'be careful what you wish for'.

I am a terrible allotmenter.

I can just about manage to grow dahlias, courgettes, sage and rosemary and the odd onion - on a good year.

*

I share the allotment with my neighbour and, I'm sure she won't mind me saying this, although we both love the idea of an allotment, sometimes (or rather, most of the time) it's not right at the top of the list of either of our priorities. This time of year is just about OK as we have discovered the instant, although slightly brutal, black-plastic-covered-allotment-look. It's a bit eighties, a bit recessionista, a bit Debbie Harry but for vegetable patches. I've grown to love it - no-one else's allotment has quite such a look.

*

Despite the plastic-fetish, I do like the allotment to look pretty and tidy. I like to grow flowers and salads, anything that grows above ground. I like to sow and plant out and I don't even mind weeding but I really don't like proper digging and muck. It's all a bit Monty Python and serf-like me.

*

However, now I have a keen and redundant husband, I may have the solution. He is unlikely to know which is weed, which is plant in the garden but on the allotment that does not matter. Everything save three blackcurrant bushes, some rhubarb and a couple of wizened gooseberry bushes is, guess what, weed! He can dig and edge and tidy up till the chickens come home (he's supposed to be mending the chicken run too). I have always resisted being the sort of wife who writes out lists for husbands but the temptation this year is too much. I'm planning a spreadsheet - he'll like that. He gets jobs and I get more produce for less effort. Marvellous.

***

How far to "Remainia"?

Thanks to Kathy for this great holiday destination (see comments below).

Having had a euro-shock recently, I think we'll be making repeat Remainia trips all year - staying at home and making the most of what we've got will be a more manageable option than globe-trotting, or even UK-trotting.

I once read an article about 'home-holidays' and it sounded great. The writer suggested that you behave just as you would if you were going away - manic tidying of house, collecting guidebooks and lists of things to do, finding out where the nearest ancient monument is, and then you do it, all within 20 miles of where you live. You're not allowed to do silly things like pay bills or email work or open post.

It's an option.

a very bad girl....

I wish I could say I've been gallivanting and simply messing about for the last week or so but, unfortunately, I can't.

I've been working, working, working and busy, busy, busy.

I've removed my themes as, let's face it, I was being a little ambitious.

I'm just going to stick to general, random inspiration and see how it goes from there.

I am a reluctant inhabitant of a landlocked county. I have often dreamed of living by the sea. I lived in Brighton for a couple of years a long, long time ago and I was captivated by the water whatever the season, whatever the weather.

I am not sure where I would like to live if I ever manage to persuade my nearest and dearest to move sea-side. In an ideal fantasy seaside life, I would be installed in an art-deco mansion beside my own private cove with several small crafts, manned by several gansey-dressed fisherman, ready to take me to the nearest quay.

In reality, we don't do seaside much as a family. It's simply too far and unfamiliar for my small-ish, landlubbers. We're not great with sand, or rather food and sand, or indeed sand in places other minerals rarely reach. We're not lovers of traffic jams either or over-priced ice creams, or beach neighbours, or sand-castle-kicker-overers.

Let's stay here then.