Yoo-hoo, is anyone out there ...

(note of apology on the images - only have my Blackberry to take pictures, and am not great at getting the rights bits in, and the edges right)

So blogland has been a neglected part of my “favourite things to do” recently.  And although I’ve really missed it, I’ve also found it hard to get stuck in to writing.  Part of it is that the longer one is away, the harder it is to go back.  And part of it goes back to my utter technical ineptitude.  My computer at work doesn’t allow me so much as a sniff past a blog, and my computer at home is powered by a decrepit one legged hamster.  With the removal of the default retirement age frankly I’m stuck with him. 

Life back at work has been moving at quite a pace.  Two and a half months off is brilliant, but there came a point shortly before the end of my leave when the projects I started at the beginning were finished (hooray) and with only two weeks, nine days, seven days ... to go there seemed little point getting stuck into new ones.  I describe this as my getting “mentally flabby” and it was at this point I started going running each morning.  Where I live is basically a giant undulation in south east London so the toll of cresting those hills each morning meant that in the afternoons I took to my sofa in earnest.  Cue my addiction to Murder, She Wrote and the lovely Angela Lansbury.  Having retreated to my sofa one Sunday or so ago to nurture a particularly aggressive hangover, I can tell you this was definitely a gardening-leave-related obsession - it is an obviously dated but still marvellous programme – perhaps not one I should still be quite so upbeat and vocal about now.  Although I do still seem to be talking about it.  I must stop talking about it right now.  Although, one final point on MSW – there’s nothing like seeing something that makes you hark back to better days where one knew one’s neighbours, fed their cat and cycled around a very pretty small town.  Am not sure this type of life ever really existed, so it is potentially nostalgia for something unreal, but a nice kind of nostalgia.

So to work, and it’s been good being back in an office albeit with a bit of an insight into what it must be like going back after having a baby or any other long absence.  I was out for just over nine weeks and found myself feeling self-conscious wandering around the office and very aware that everything I thought I knew about HR and employment law had mysteriously drained out of me.  Clearly too much tea, cake and wine is bad for you – who knew. It took the first week or so to feel as if my brain was limbering up again; now I feel ready for another little break.

Over the course of the nine weeks I sustained my first knitting related injury – determined to make something that was wearable and for someone to see other than me, I set to making a Debbie Bliss dress for my four year old niece.  Evidence if it were needed that tension swatches are essential, I decided to make the six year old sizing, reasoning that if it was too big she’d grow into it and could simply pop a jumper underneath in the winter.  There was a great sale on so instead of making it pink and red, I picked up some olive and cream bargain Cashmerino and attempted my first piece of intarsia which turned out quite successfully. 

I discovered being a slightly obsessive type can lead to danger even with something as innocuous as knitting.  After spending a few days flirting with getting started I began in earnest at 10am on day five and before I knew it had been knitting solidly for six hours.  My fingers were bleeding and my thumb had a fairly sizeable gash in it from my curious knitting style.  Aside from the discomfort, I was also famished so it was time for a break.  Plasters were liberally applied to all relevant digits and knitting resumed in earnest.  11pm rolled around without my noticing time passing and the dress was well over half complete.  I was delighted, and actually surprisingly tired.  Waking up the next morning with my hands set into an interesting claw shape I decided to take a day off reasoning that I had learnt a lot about not just intarsia but also the physicality of the craft.

My niece looked quite pleased with the dress when she tried it on, but I didn’t get a chance to take any pictures as I was still without the technology to do so when I gave it to her and it was also about 90 degrees outside so it was swiftly taken off and put neatly in the back of the car.  I haven’t heard anything subsequently about whether or not she’s keen, but I hope so.  And if not, that at least it will be passed to my sister’s daughter who is too young to know any better about sartorial rights and wrongs.  I’m playing the long game here.

In the last few weeks I’ve been learning to do cables (well, being taught actually - I got a bit lost on all those twists and turns) and have made my first cushion cover with the loveliest alpaca (which I got from http://www.thetoftalpacashop.co.uk/catlist.aspx).  It’s a curious mix of rough and silky and is so incredibly tactile that it was a joy to knit with.  The scratchiness did niggle the bits of my fingers that seem to be wearing away with repeated knits but it’s definitely worth it.  Even the smell of soggy Labrador pervading my home as I’m blocking it is worth it.  It looks beautiful.  In fact, I’ve armed myself with graph paper so I can have a go at designing my own cables which is probably far too advanced for me at this stage but I’m officially hooked and frankly, how else will I learn.

Not sure if there is anyone out there reading, but I’ve been having a ponder on different textiles and whether it’s possible to mix them up to make a bedspread or something similar.  I wondered about mixing squares of alpaca with blocks of quilting.  Any views on this?  Would it be horrifying/old fashioned?  Could it work, might it be aesthetically interesting?  This is my first attempt at quilting - it's basically a teapot stand as I had a go in miniature but planning to make a full size version later this year - thinking I might go 70s brown/yellow/orange styling,

And this morning I’ve been starting to understand the process behind embroidery.  The Royal School of Needlework introductory course is still hovering at the edges of my brain – it really does feel as if I’ve found my medium and I’d love to do more, ideally the degree if I could.  Having spent a few weeks looking up images on the internet (I’ve also started a scrap book of images and ideas I find on my travels – despite the walk along the river every morning, am not sure the daily commute counts as travel really though) I found a beautiful picture of a bright orange Iris.  Working with an expert, she agreed that it would make a good starting point for me – clear shapes, good curves and shading, and the right size to learn a lot and be challenged without being overwhelmed.

I hadn’t realised how involved it would be, but not knowing had always put me off trying to design my own (that and not really being sure how to achieve the finish I would want).  There was something very therapeutic about reducing the size of the design from the picture, and then gradually refining the detail into a line drawing, a colour shaded version, a shaded version to understand where “light” will fall from the silks, and then a version to draw on the direction of the stitching to help establish the structure (I still have to complete these last two stages).  As someone who has always maintained that I can’t draw, it felt like an achievement to end up with something that looked the way I had imagined in my mind.  Seeing the DMC thread chart to start choosing colours was another moment where I felt a little frisson, imagining what the end result could look like.  Am literally embarrassingly over the moon about this project, despite the fact it’s probably around 60 hours of work.  I sense the claw hand may return at points!  Must buy a thimble too …

Travels with Auntie

At the end of March I suddenly found myself without a computer and because of that have been in a curious state of disconnection from the rest of the world.  I do like a pootle on the internet and, as an enthusiast of all things epistolary, I love my email - one of the purest pleasures is getting a lovely long letter and replying to it and if it's not the same tactile experience as writing, email is still a joy.

But now, here I am and what a few weeks it's been.  The computer is down to two things - my home laptop is kaput and being mended, and I don't have the work computer during my gardening leave.  Who knew resigning could lead to two months of paid leave (working in HR of course I knew it happened but never to me), and I must say I'm pretty delighted.  The weather has been incredible (how very English of me) and I've been lucky enough to get away on a couple of holidays.  Right now, I'm sitting in York using my sister's computer, although that's not why I'm visiting.  She has three lovely children (actually a few hours ago I might have had a slightly different description as I struggled to help get them ready for nursery and school) and for once I get to spend a couple of days with them instead of the usual frenetic weekend trip.

The time off and technological wilderness has also given me time to get properly hands-on with all things crafty.  There were a couple of days out in the garden, worrying what I thought were dandelions but apparently are actually Triffids once they reach waist height.  Much as I enjoyed getting stuck in after rather too long a hiatus, it soon became obvious that without a lawn mower and a flame thrower, one little woman was going to struggle against the wilderness.  So I've called in professional help (for the garden, not me) and they come in to sort it out at the end of May.  I'm an organic gardener and the discussions we had made me suspect he might not be but he did some work in the garden when I first moved in many moons ago and he does have a good eye for the way it should look as well as the practical things so I'm wondering whether to take his advice for the paths and at least get some way to conquering the bind weed etc.  It would be rather disappointing to scare off the bees after rather a sustained plot to draw them in - no one can eat the number of chives that have popped up, but the bees love them so I keep on encouraging them.  A friend bought her husband a ceramic "beehive for one" for their vegetable plot and I'm thinking of investing - it made me feel quite warm and fuzzy thinking about that lone bee, just bumbling about and making a home for itself.

I started making my pinnies in earnest before a trip to Oman (lovely, very hot but the beauty of that is you can't do anything apart from read a book a day and do snoozing which I discovered I'm really adept at).  I got through three of them before I had a brainwave about a new finishing technique to tidy up the waistband seam so I've unpicked the first few I made and when I'm home from York I'll finish those off.  There was a bit of a frisson when I sewed my first "Thoroughly Modern Margo" label to something I'd made.  The labels are cream with lilac lettering, and a few people have suggested a darker colour - perhaps red or green, but there's something a bit school jumper-ish about that so I'm not sure.

The other thing I tried making was the Abel & Cole beetroot and chocolate recipe.  As someone new to the dark art of baking, I was sceptical when the lurid purple mixture went into the oven but the first waft of it coming out and the way friends wolfed it down with spoonfuls of creme fraiche and good strong espresso (which seemed to draw out the earthy flavour of the beetroot and cut through the richness of the dark chocolate) suggested that beetroot + chocolate = delicious.  I did take a picture, but it was on the Blackberry which is now no doubt lurking in the bottom of a drawer with my old employer.  Rather liberating being B'berryless, but if you're a technophobe whose answer to not knowing how to get photographs off a camera is to seriously suggest just buying a new camera then it is a bit discombobulating to be bereft of the technology that makes these things very easy.  In the end, I gave the camera with its seven years of photographs to my father who sighed wearily at my ineptitude but is rather a whizz (which as a professional photographer he should be - http://www.westlondonphotography.com/) and therefore much better placed to sort it out.

Other crafty endeavours included an "Introduction to Embroidery" course at the Royal School of Needlework.  Aside from a sense of excitement at being at Hampton Court Palace and the locked room at the School (which I assumed, correctly as it turned out, might be being used for the royal wedding dress) the course itself was a really good first taste of embroidery.  I've done counted cross stitch patterns for a number of years, but having the freedom of a blank canvas and a light sketch to fill in gave me a sense that I had found my medium.  They do a longer degree course which I would love to do, but working full-time and very intensive study don't really go hand-in-hand.  If anyone knows of any part-time or distance learning embroidery courses, I'd be thrilled to hear about them.

There was a pattern for a very sweet dress (red, with a pink border and flower) in the most recent Debbie Bliss magazine and on http://www.considerthelily.co.uk/ I found every possible colour of her yarns plus a few bargains on sale so I'm making this for my niece but using cream for the accent and flower, and sage green for the body.  Her fifth birthday is in September so hopefully by then I'll have perfected my finishing; I think I've said before that I can tend towards being a process crafter in that I really enjoy the process of creating something, but finishing it is less exciting.  Of course, seeing the finished product is a bit of an unrivalled feeling and the more time I commit to learning how to do it properly is helping me view those elements as part of the process and therefore more enjoyable.

And finally, after a knitting class I did about six months ago I have been taking individual crochet lessons with a fantastic teacher.  While group classes are fun, you can make such quick progress learning one to one and I'm finding crochet quite addictive - it's also more easily transportable than knitting or embroidery (although I have seen someone on the train with their hoop) so it's less awkward on the tube.  And given the amount of time I've spent on the tube in the last month or so - this gardening leave is great for catching up with people but it does require travel time - it's been a good distraction for all those rail miles (which makes it sound much more glam than schlepping from south east London to other parts of London doesn't it).

As you can probably tell, I've missed online chat - sometimes any chat, the postman has been particularly caught out a couple of times when I've not had plans - or I'd have kept that a bit briefer but I am very glad to be back and more updates to follow - particularly of that dress - once I figure out the whole getting photos from camera to computer schmalarkey.  Yes, I know at 32 (next Monday) it's pretty shameful that I'm letting the techy world pass me by but am sure there's time for me to learn before I become totally obsolete and my nephews stuff me in a wheely bin for the rubbish men to take out.  On that note, who knew that four and seven year olds (third child is only six months old and quiet as a duckling on a sun warmed pond) were like Velociraptors - my sister and I shut the door to the living room so we could have a cuppa and chat in the front room but in a pincer movement they each opened a door at different ends of the room, flung them open so we were surrounded and deafened by their battle ship noises and general constant use of outdoor voices indoors.  I will go home on Thursday a broken woman but no doubt feeling slightly bereft in my quiet little flat. 

Pip pip for now ...

And back to sewing ...

So it’s week two of the 50s dress-making class (using pattern V8184), and we were packed off this time with a mountain of homework for next week; the last session so a little bit of pressure (although no more than hoping to wear this to a Vegas wedding in the summer – eek, making something I’m actually planning to wear, who’d have thunk it).  All of it is relatively straightforward theoretically, but I’m sure I’m not alone in suffering from performance anxiety once I’m away from the comforting gaze of someone who knows what they’re doing, can help me read the pattern and generally stop me making a total bobbins of things.

For example, I made a silly mistake on the strap which was part of our homework last week; I basted the ends for the neck edge (I slightly hold my colleague Laura responsible for this as we went out for drinks on Friday night, and it took me two days to recover – poor me).  I did get the edges into a lovely sharp point – something I’ve been practicing - which would be great if it had been for something that needed it, a collar for example, but obviously quite an annoying thing to unpick and made more so because when you read the pattern it’s blindingly obvious that it wasn’t what we were supposed to do.  Anyway, that’s unpicked now and I’m gazing at the pile of other things that need to happen before next week and missing my safety blanket.

This week we boned the bodice; satisfying to see the shape come together and feel how differently the fabric reacts as it gets treated in different ways.  We were using satin lined polyester bones – naturally we leave those whales in peace these days – so we weren’t fussing with sewing on pockets for the polyester strips.  They were marginally less stressful than zips, and the back seams were fine.  The curved front seams posed more of a challenge and I managed to stretch this relatively straightforward task out over nearly two hours which is quite an achievement in many ways, she says ferreting out that silver lining.

It’s a slightly smaller group than the introductory course, and the tutor effectively leaves us to get on with things, occasionally mooching past to check we’re on track.  Having her there, I feel relatively confident about getting on, albeit as slowly as a three-legged tortoise set in reverse, and my sewing speed is gradually improving (apart from round corners where I set the machine to slow and may actually be quicker hand tacking).  We’ve all been quite bold in our fabric choices and have opted for beautiful patterns ranging from quirky – a Liberty paisley print with little ghostly faces peering out - to neat retro florals and bold Moda prints.  It’s really lovely to see how different the same dress coming together can look; and we’re all working away with real quiet enthusiasm and verve so the time flies by. 

Although it’s still such early days with my sewing progress, I am starting to understand how people communicate through stitches.  It sounds very whimsical, but every time I get Bobby out there’s a little frisson of excitement about what’s going to happen.  Often, it’s a little bit of sewing, a lot bit of quick unpick; but occasionally I finish doing a something (like a pocket) that I’ve not done before and think “crikey, I did that”, with rather a lot of help from the pattern and You Tube videos of course. 

But with that in mind, and a rather patchy history of cross stitching dating back for two decades – yes, I was a pretty out there child and teenager, who knows how my parents coped – I booked myself onto an introduction to embroidery at the Royal School of Needlework which happened today (more of that at a later date - so much to mull through after a long but great day).  I met someone two weeks ago who had been accepted to study there, and said that walking into the rooms at Hampton Court Palace, she was struck immediately by how the embroidery that filled the rooms looked as if it had been crafted by angels.  I was as excited at the prospect of seeing these incredible works and being in the presence of that sort of creativity, as I was at learning new stitches and ways of working. 

There are two exhibitions at the V&A at the moment that I would love to see.  One is an exhibition of 80 Yohji Yamamoto creations, the first opportunity of its kind to see this quantity of the designer’s work in a very dynamic format.  The other is a social history of chocolate production and consumption over a 400 year period which I think would be fascinating, especially in light of people’s fairly intense emotional attachment to the stuff.  Next week the Cult of Beauty exhibition starts featuring two of Walter Crane’s works on loan from the RSN, as part of the museum’s exploration of the aesthetic movement during the second half of the 19^th century.  I really should find a day, don some comfy shoes, and have a proper explore.

One final thing following the Comic Relief cake baking frenzy –  I was literally cleaning frosting off bits of the kitchen I didn’t know it could have reached for days afterwards – is that Abel & Cole very kindly steered me and my beetroot in the cake direction.  Given they had been so nice to get in touch, I’m now compelled to try this recipe and plan to do that on either Monday or Tuesday evening – I’ll take a photo if it turns out ok.  Sadly, it comes too late for last week’s beetroot (RIP) but if I’m not in the office for a couple of days next week it’s because my baking attempt has left me dyed a deep shade of purple, and/or I’ve gluttonously realised that root vegetables, dark chocolate and cakes are a heavenly match.  I’m ruling neither possibility out.

Springtime (not here yet)

Just a quickie - I've taken the last two Mondays off and both days have been gloriously sunny, crisp spring days.  Is there something in the fact that it has misted over and become very gloomy on the working days?  Hmm, perhaps not a thought to pursue more closely.

Anyway, this Monday I had my food shop delivered by Abel & Cole and couldn't resist taking a picture (I don't have a good camera so apologies for the quality) of how lovely all the fresh fruit and veg looked.  This is springtime.

Now if anyone knows what the devil to do with a beetroot I would love a recommendation.  It peeps up at me from the veg tray everytime I open the fridge and it's making me feel a) guilty and b) embarrassed by my lack of knowledge about what to do with it.

Most people are also no doubt aware that it's Comic Relief today so the team has been aflutter with cupcake baking.  Not the most popular department at the best of times, in a clear act of manipulation, we're attempting to buy our way into the affections of the employee population at large, by stuffing them choc (ha ha) full of cupcakes, vermicelli and icing.  All made with gallons of whole milk and plenty of sugar.  Think it's important to offset the good with the bad (or is that meant to be the other way around) so from the sublime to the slightly ridiculous (and also luminously non-natural looking), here are some of my cupcakes below.

(My first ever attempt at icing - for my brother who was visiting)

(the Lone Cupcake Ranger)

Lordy, a gaggle of Red Nose cupcakes




 

Fitting things, just right

My name is CJ and it’s been almost two weeks since my last posting. 

I’ve been struggling slightly with inspiration.  Not on the craft front – I’m a dervish of activity on that side of things, but just in a more general sitting down and scrawling about it.  Part of it, I think, is because it’s difficult to know if anyone’s actually reading and much as my inner narcissist quite likes the idea of an online journal, there’s a much larger part of me that’s actually very shy and finds the idea of being so public and potentially also unread a bit embarrassing.

Anyway, I’m putting those notions to one side as the whole point of the endeavour is to have an outlet for my frustrated creative musings, and if someone reads and I manage to inveigle my way into the wider craft community then so much the better.

It’s been a difficult fortnight to write about such whimsy though, don’t you think (if you’re out there)?  There are very few ways to write anything at the moment without wondering if it’s all a bit self-indulgent given the way the world currently is.  I do wrestle with the notion that one shouldn’t worry about the things we go through on a daily basis when there are people struggling to survive through earthquakes, revolution, tsunami and the threat of a nuclear meltdown.  The world certainly feels as if it’s on the brink of something quite scary and most people I speak to seem to feel they’re in a state of almost perpetual flight or fight but without really knowing why. 

At the same time, in the UK we are very lucky that, with the exception of people who have friends and family in Japan, New Zealand or Africa and the Middle East, we are able to go about our daily lives and worry about the things we always worry about.  The simple fact is that it’s ok to still worry about whether our children (or in my case, nieces and nephews) are happy, well and enjoying nursery/school/their first taste of real food.  It’s alright to fret about our partners who are struggling with a lack of sleep and a job that demands upwards of 80 hours a week.  It would be strange not to worry about friends who are grieving, or trying for babies, or planning their weddings, or thinking of moving house.  Those are the things that make our lives, and to think we should be spending our time in a muddle of anxiety about a crisis we can do nothing about, and not give our own concerns credence is to insinuate ourselves into a situation for which empathy is appropriate and helplessness is unfortunately a fact.  This isn’t apathy, it’s reality.

There are people who are the sorts who can pack up their things and ship out to support in these situations.  I admire them heartily.  I am not that person.  I donate to charities regularly but I don’t actively participate.  It’s rankles slightly, as I do have a view on how caring we are as a society and from a selfish perspective miss having older people in my life following the death of a dear octogenarian friend.  Getting involved in a charity that visits and shops for the elderly has been on my list of things to do for a while and it’s still there, pointing out my poor time management on a regular basis.  Does not doing it make me a bad person?  I think it makes me human; and as such, I believe (but am happy to be disagreed with) that we are programmed to feel terrible (and terrified) by others tragedies because it draws to our attention to the ways in which we wish we could contribute, and the fact that our society appears to have atrophied to the point where it is no longer the norm to reach out and participate actively in the society around us. 

I suppose what I’m saying is that people like me saying things are terrible does nothing to mitigate the circumstance or effect.  Neglecting ones own life and the lives of those directly related to us over which we do have an impact, doesn’t change the situation.  Without the wherewithal and resources to get out there and actually do something, the reality is that the obligation sits with each of us to ensure we do what we can to make things better at home, in our local area and for each other.  That’s not to say we shouldn’t empathise – how can we not - or do things to contribute to alleviating suffering where we can; it’s just to say we shouldn’t forget, amidst the outpouring of international emotion, about the things and people around us.  It doesn’t lessen the situation to acknowledge that this is not my tragedy; these situations are terrible tragedies and the international community must do something to support the people affected.

So that’s all rather involved and actually self-indulgent which was the opposite of where I was trying to get to; and rather proves my point that it’s very difficult to write about anything non-serious at the moment.

Here goes nothing.  My friend seemed to really like her house-warming pinny (though the egg cosies were less of a success – I must practice my making up of knitted things) and I thought I would share what it looks like. 

The enormous pocket was fairly baggy when it was made up so after I'd put in the central wooden spoon pocket I added some pleats across the top to mirror the pleating around the waistband, and shape the pocket a little bit.  It’s tricky for a newbie to the society of crafting to feel ok about giving someone something they made without feeling a little bit as if I’m saying “check it out, I’m brilliant”.  I hope that the very pink cheeks when she opened the present demonstrated to her that I was more concerned that she not feel obliged to say she loved it if in reality she thought it was a rag.  The fabrics were lovely (from the marvellous Owl and Sewing Cat again) and that’s more than half the job done right there.  I also uploaded it to Burda Style which I’ve recently discovered and think is a brilliant resource. 

It has got me thinking about where I want to go with all this.  I used to work with someone who takes a stall at Portobello a few times a year and managed to pluck up the courage to ask whether she would consider pairing up with me at some point this year if I were to make up a sufficient number of things, to see if there’s any market for what I like.  Am planning on keeping it simple – a few variations on the 1950s pinny, which seem to be very popular at the moment, and some hand sewn toys (I can’t stand waste so it's a good way of making use of the remnants I can’t bring myself to throw away).  It’s a way off – I’ve realised that I don’t have a free Saturday to get myself to Shepherd’s Bush Market for a spot of fabric shopping, but despite being rubbish at drawing, I can’t stop doodling ideas for different shapes of pinny, pockets, etc.  Would making them in miniature for the mini-me in the kitchen be too much?  Hmmm, lots to think about.  Not sure what it all looks like, whether I’m totally behind the times or have missed the boat, but I found a very useful book (Kari Chapin’s The Handmade Marketplace) and am currently ploughing through it during my train journeys to work.  Fingers crossed it gives me a steer on promoting the blog and finding my own direction. 

Clearly I’m experiencing an existential crisis of sorts but am not sure that’s a bad thing …