Rattling On...

What lies beneath...

Early morning... bubbles on the surface of the pond, the weed disturbed and mysterious dark blobs bobbing up and down.

It can mean only one thing.

I can now bore you with the goings-on in the pond again!

Of course, they all disappeared the moment I got the camera out, mostly wriggling into the plants at the sides, but a couple stayed just under the surface.

You can see the pond liner in the second picture. You shouldn't be able to, but the water level still needs to go up a few inches. No doubt the weather will oblige shortly.

Squeeze for three, relax for three...

Yesterday evening I did something I've been meaning to do for years but for some reason never got round to. I gave blood.

Not to a vampire, but to the transfusion service that comes to town on a regular basis. I signed up on-line a couple of weeks ago, choosing my venue and the appointment time. They sent me back a form to take along and that was it.

For any of you out there who already donate the rest may be old news, but if you're considering it and dithering... read on.

I arrived at the hall and was given a leaflet to read while I drank my big glass of water,checking out who else was there (a lot of late teens/early twenties, good mix of everyone else) then off for the finger prick test for blood group and haemaglobin levels. I have to say I wasn't looking forward to this, remembering 3rd year science when we tested our blood groups and were given a scalpel blade to jab into ourself. Needn't have worried as it's a little gadget nowadays and almost painless

Then to a screened off waiting area to be called. And this was the odd part. There we were behind the screen just metaphorically twiddling our thumbs in private only to be called to a bed to give blood in the centre of the hall in full view. Not sure of the psychology there, but maybe it was to give a last minute bit of dignity to scarperers.

The guy who saw to me (so to speak) was very friendly, very funny. Said he used to be a plumber and I think he was telling the truth. I'm not squeamish and have had loads of blood taken for various reasons in the past so the needle and tubing weren't a problem. He said if there was any pain to tell him straight away... so he could come over and enjoy it. I asked if it was normal for my legs to lose all feeling. That got him back.

Apparently it was gushing out of me at a real rate and it took only minutes to fill the bag. As instructed I was squeezing my buttock muscles all the while. I kid you not, helps maintain blood pressure. Then he slapped on a plaster and packed me off for a brew and a biscuit to the tea woman 'Who's a real laugh. Not.' And he wasn't kidding there, she would be better in a morgue with the personality (or lack of it) that she has.

Next appointment booked, tea swigged, fruit shortcake munched and back off home. No ill effects whatsoever. Unlike the only time my Mother attempted it and had to be driven home by the chauffeur (her word) on standby for the fainters. She never returned.

Which is a shame as we're both O rhesus negative, the universal donor. We pump the red stuff that is the basic go-to in emergencies. I am ashamed I've never got my act together and donated before, but it was a sort of New Year's resolution. To Do Something. And you never know when you might be relying on someone else having been less tardy than me.

I can recommend it. Which sounds an odd thing to say, but it feels worthwhile and there's a sense of cameraderie (tea lady aside), it's a way of giving that doesn't cost money for the donor and could save a life. What more can you ask of an hour on a Monday evening?

A case of the blues...

This post, if it does nothing else, will illustrate just how hard it is to take photos in rubbish light. They were all taken on the same day with the camera on the same settings. In terms of colour accuracy I think the last one is the closest as it's not as bright as the first one suggests and not as 70s denimy as the second...

(Edited to add: I've looked at the colours on a different computer and now none of them look like the real colour!! In fact the first looks better, the middle still too pale and the last far too dark... whatever, it's really pleasant in real life!)

It's a shawl of course. I saw it here and decided to make my own version (details on Ravelry as always). As we all know I don't like circular needles so I made it on straights with aran yarn. It starts off with seven stitches and the increases are worked to provide the shaping.

I got to 325 stitches then no more would squeeze onto the needle so I stopped. Fortunately that made it exactly the right size. Which is good!

It has a definite rustic homsteader charm and it was really easy to make. Honestly. I don't go in for stitch markers and all that faff and it was easy to see what was going on and when the increases were required. Perfect evening/TV viewing project.

The last grainy picture is to show the scale against the back of the door. It's plenty big enough for my farming shoulders, and it would tuck into your pants on a breezy day...

Now down to business, the giveaway.

The winner of the book is Paula, and if she'd like to e-mail me her details I'll post it off to her. I know she likes baking so hopefully it's off to a good home!

Sunday Scrapbook

Yesterday was cold but bright, lovely for a good long walk. Coco and I combined this with taking my (new) computer back to the mothership as it wasn't behaving very well at all. I left it with them for a while then we went back to collect it. For some reason I took it back in the box, meaning it was bulky and a pain to carry...

I now have my internet security back after it mysteriously uninstalled itself during an update, and I am advised not to bother with the browser I was persevering with. It must have crashed on average about every twenty minutes, including each time I typed into the Google searchbox.

Now all I have to do is transfer all my bookmarks across. There's no easy way, it's just a matter of going through the list. The long list. Maybe it's time to do a selective cull of all the 'interesting' things I've bookmarked along the way and now can't remember why!

Tomorrow I'll announce the giveaway winner and hopefully have one of the finished projects to share. Still working on the other...

Sunrise...sunset...

Last night's sunset was short and sweet. The colours were subtle and beautiful, a sort of salmon-pink with hints of lilac-grey.

It was a warmer than usual day, the local weather station said the high was 14C with wind gusts of 50mph. As I left work I heard a woman say 'Ooh, it's warm today, that breeze is lovely.'

For goodness' sake. Talk about some people never being happy with what they get. Apparently it was a freak and we should be back to the norm today and the forseeable, which is cold and damp. She won't be happy then I bet...

The pond inhabitants seemed to like it, there was a lot of turbulance. Which gives me hope that the big fish have survived another freezing winter. They are black and so almost invisible lurking on the bottom, though I have seen a bit of frog action in there.

The recent torrential rain has also meant that the water level has risen satisfactorily without me having to add tap water. As the ice was thawing I also added piles of snow at the sides at intervals, I think this also helped to top it up. The giant buttercups that grow in there are already sprouting, I never cease to be amazed at how resilient plants and creatures are.

(These pictures remind me so much of Fiddler on the Roof!)

Queensberry rules...

For one reason and another yesterday I found myself actually wanting to take a swing at someone.

This is a rare occurrence for me, and thus worth mentioning here.

In fact, the effort of the self-restraint required resulted in the formation of a light sweat and the need to walk off the frustration.

I think my face betrayed me and the other party was startled. A small hint at an apology was offered by them later in the day, by which time I'd attempted self-mollification with an ample slice of cheesecake.

Trifling matters...

Last night was the WI Christmas party, postponed twice due to adverse weather. I had volunteered (in November) to make one of the puddings. As a new member I thought it would be a good way to join straight in.

It's very difficult deciding what to make. Especially as I knew it would fall on a work night, whereas if it had been in December it would have been in the holiday and I could have titivated all day long. So a trifle it was, as it could be made in stages and just the finishing touches added before setting off.


It was also Shrove Tuesday, so there were pancakes to make as well as cream to whip.

I can't help feeling it wasn't a very imaginitive offering, but then lots of people don't welcome innovative food. However it had panettone instead of the usual boudoir biscuits and was laced with a bit of kirsch to complement the cherries. So it wasn't a sherry trifle, it was a cherry trifle...

Jumble...

On Saturday I went to a jumble sale, one of only a handful I've ever been to. I remember the very first one I went to, with my Mother, my across-the-road-Aunty and my across-the-road-cousin. I was maybe eight and he ten or so. It was in a church hall not far from where we lived and was in aid of Boys Brigade funds.

I remember seeing the trestle tables laden with clothes and such, but the most vivid memory is of a potato masher on a stall with kitchen equipment. Kitchenalia has always been a point of interest.

I seem to think my Aunty bought something (cousin was in the Boys' brigade and I was later in the Girls' Brigade) to show solidarity, but my Mother didn't.  She doesn't like second hand, vintage, retro. Unless it's wooden furniture, where she spots the most incredible bargains and works wonders doing them up. She is also a great spotter for me and will happily haul stuff back to hand it over with incomprehension.

Anyway, when we were all leaving my Mother and Aunty started discussing the event. My Mother said she didn't like that kind of thing and it had left her feeling chatty. I'm not sure whether this is a regional thing, but it doesn't mean talkative. It describes feeling itchy and uncomfortable, as if you are suffering an infestation of bugs. I've seen it written in a book once, it was in relation to the trenches in the First World War and so is an old world. But you get the idea of how the jumble sale made her feel.

For some reason this made my Aunty start laughing, they were both giggling and shaking, with tears running down their faces. It was the first time I understood that adults were just the same as children and laughed in inappropriate places. I loved that they found it all so funny, though I couldn't understand my Mother's objections.

You're either vintage or you're not. It's not genetic, obviously!

So, on Saturday, I bagged some great finds. A pristine 12 cup cafetiere for £2, perfect for get-togethers. Some vintage pillowcases, ripe for crochet edging, and a thing for 50p. Not really sure what it is, but I have ideas for its future use.

The church hall where it was held was heaving, they must have made a small fortune from the 30p entrance fee alone. The atmosphere was electric. Bargain hunters and closet antiques dealers in equal measure. You can't beat it for an afternoon's fun, and I never once felt chatty. Except in the conventional sense.

Ectomorphic muffins...

Even the casual observer could see my baking tin collection was lacking in the tall/skinny/mini muffin department. Not any longer, courtesy of Ikea and their Drommar muffin tin and cases. Not available on-line so my Mother obliged when they happened to be going along. I daren't go myself. It wouldn't have stopped at baking tins. It never does, and indeed along with the tins came some cookie cutters...

These are dinky little cakes, maybe half the size of a usual fairy cake and a bit taller. Very stylish, and only spoiled by the over-designed cases. Come on Ikea, make some plain ones...pleeease.

I wasn't very precise when filling them and they ended up like a miniature Giant's Causeway of cake. Covered in lurid icing, that was meant to be delicate but I'm heavy handed with the colouring. Sort of matches the cases for subtlety.

Anyway, now for something completely different.

Imagine if you will: you're reading a blog and something niggles at your mind, reminds you of something else. So you Google a few phrases that seem out of keeping with the general tone of the blog. And there, in all its glory, is the same peice, written sometimes over a year ago by someone else. Same words, same pictures mostly. Copy and paste job.

What would you do?

It's a serious question, for I have indeed encountered this very situation. With the blogger passing off the post (or at least the greater part of it, with small personalisations) as their own work and even accepting compliments on the content. And it's not just one post.

There's being inspired by other people's work. There's unintentional and subliminal influence. There's quoting and giving credit to the source. There's plagiarism.

Again, what would you do? I know some of you have experienced having your designs, photos and such copied or stolen, but has anyone just boldly knicked your content? (And I hasten to add here it's not my stuff being 'borrowed')

I am a coward and daren't just send an e-mail outing the perp...

Sunday, Sunday...

Don't be fooled by that blue sky, it's down below freezing again here and it snowed last night. I'll take the blue sky but you can stick the snow, thanks.

Back to school tomorrow, but I feel I've had a good week off, with a nice balance of tasks done and relaxation. A week is never long enough for all the things I wish I'd done though.

I did manage to get the DVD player working again. Not that it wasn't working, more that the pictures weren't showing up on the screen. This was following the fitting of a new Sky box just after Christmas, it hadn't worked since then so I knew the two were connected. No flies on me.

Thing is, I know nothing about how all the wires are supposed to feed in and out, and I assumed the nice pre-schooler they sent to fit the box would know what he was doing. In the end I bit the bullet and phoned Sky. Nice woman answered and proceeded to talk tech... is the HDMI cable connected to the blah blah blah... she lost me at HDMI.

However, after speaking to her my brain must have been working in the background as I suddenly thought about how the DVD player was ancient and the 'HD' bit might not relate to it. So I uncoupled it from the HD box and jacked it straight into the TV. Bingo. I immediately had a four hour North and South marathon. Ahh, Richard, how you cheered me up. Ahem.

I've also watched Rebecca, (very good and ahh, Charles, how you cheered me up) and Modigliani (less good and ahh, Andy, you didn't cheer me up). So, my Christmas viewing stash has been started on, there is still a pile I haven't got round to but some of them require watching properly, as in without knitting/crocheting at the same time. Mainly because they have fantastic costumes. I do love attention to detail. But I also like my crafting to be done properly as well, and I've been busy on two projects. Not at the same time, you understand.

One is a doddle, one took a little bit of mastering. Of the sort where you read and read a pattern and end up just having to really look at the pictures close-up to figure out what's happening. That was the crochet one, I'm relatively new to crochet and sometimes patterns via Ravelry assume a certain level of previous experience. Although the knitting pattern had abbreviations on I was unsure of, 'pm' I decided was place marker. I never use markers so that was one thing out of the way.

I would love to spend today watching DVDs and knitting but, in true Procrastinator m.o., I've left all the ironing this week and today's the day. And doing the weekly shop, I put that off as well. And starting off the pudding I'm making for the WI Christmas party (been postponed twice due to weather... watch this space). Better get a move on, then...

Giveaway...

One week ago this blog reached its third anniversary. Three years of rattling on, I think it's post 1053 today.

In slightly belated celebration of this fact I'm offering a rather nice book as a giveaway prize. Fiona Cairns' Bake and Decorate is full of excellent cake recipes and ideas, and they're all sensible as well which I like in a recipe book. It's all well and good having fantastic pictures and styling, but Joe Bloggs has to have a fair chance of reproducing them as well.

So, if you (like me...) have cake tins that need using and would like a good book to inspire you, then leave a comment on this post and enter the draw. As always I'll post anywhere and you don't have to have a blog, or any other stipulation.

Although if you would like to offer a cake-related limerick, your baking history in three words or a reason why you should be created as a peer of the realm then do feel free...

You have until next Saturday.

School Uniform Blue...

My school uniform was royal blue, meaning I almost never wear that colour these days. We had an A-line skirt with a kick pleat a the front, a V-neck jumper and choice of either a white shirt or a floral number. Most went for plain white as the flowery one was polyester with a pussycat bow. Very modern, very sweaty.

It was an all-girls school and, interestingly, when I'd been there a couple of years a trouser suit option was introduced. It was truly hideous and even the skirt haters avoided it. I can only really recall two girls of my age having it, they were twins... they had the blouses as well.

In the 6th Form we were allowed to wear our own choice of clothes. The only restriction was no hats, what a blow. We also weren't allowed to wear badges, especially with anything political on them, you know anti-war, CND, young Conservatives... this was harder as a lot of girls were quite opinionated. I think they gave up on both these rules eventually as no-one took any notice.

After working in a school for some years now I find I'm not a fan of uniform at secondary level. I understand that it's meant to be egalitarian and a smart advert for the school but: on the first point I would say that you can still tell a child's social status even in uniform. In fact, a lot of low income families begrudge spending on the uniform as it's seen as extra rather than essential clothing. Shoes especially are an issue. Buying a special pair of all-black, non-trainer-type shoes is an extra burden for many. On the second point, the kids don't like wearing uniform and will do anything to get round it. So most look a shambles and not a good advert for the school.

On own-clothes days the majority wear age-appropriate decent clothes and look much better overall. I rest my case. At least they should be grateful it's black with a blue polo shirt...

(As always, details of the finished project are on my Ravelry page. The link is in the sidebar.)

Still a sow's ear...

Well, this is the part of the cellar I spent Monday and Tuesday working on. It used to be a coal hole and then just a general store. When we moved in it was full of old sash windows and tins of paint. All that has gone to the tip and I decided to turn this sow's ear into a silk purse.

Or, more precisely, into a cubby hole for all my kitchenalia. The above is almost a 'before' shot, but I have cleaned it a fair bit and it's ready for some pimping. Oh, and I have no idea what the little blue light is under the shelf, I didn't even use a flash... spooky.

I decided just to go with what was there and not get too obsessed trying to tart up the holes in the walls and such. I got a tin of paint reduced at the DIY store and some rolls of recycled lining paper to cover the shelves.

The idea of this little pantry is so I can see exactly where all my cake plates, baking tins, gravy boats, baking tins and er, baking tins are (under the bottom shelf in tubs). I need to stop with the baking tins... now.

I'm pleased with the overall end product, it's not meant for display, more for practicality. I also have a large pile of stuff for the charity shop and possibly a car boot sale. Or possibly not, I'm not very good at them, though my Mother sells stuff like a demon so maybe she can be stallholder and I'll be the lackey.

It's not a silk purse, it's even possibly a room of shame (re the baking tin issue) but actually now it's all in one place I find I don't have as much stuff as I'd feared. Which is a relief.

(While I was sorting out I found the receipt for the copper maslin pan that I bought back from France a few years ago. 39Euros. I was convinced at the time it was priced up wrongly, still am!)

Pillow talk...

70s bedding was wild! I had a Mary Quant set when I was young, it was white with little brown daisies on it and I wonder if that was where my love of brown came from. We didn't have duvets (continental quilts as we called them) until I was maybe twelve or thirteen, so it was a sheet set, with my candlewick bedspread on top of the blankets.

I pick up vintage pillowcases when I see them and decided to tart this one up a bit, make it vintage with a vintage twist!  By adding a crochet shell edging.

This was so easy and quick to do it made me wonder why I hadn't done it before and only thought of doing it...

The cotton yarn is actually a very pale shell-pink, a colour that doesn't shout at anything, the case can do that by itself. It's cotton so can be boil washed, a treat that all my 'whites' including bedding gets.

I have more pillowcases (vintage and new) and more cotton... and I can't wait to get cracking. I can see edgings appearing on anything that stays still long enough. I think they would make great gifts as well, and that has given me even more ideas. All these ideas from an old pillowcase and a ball of yarn (Rowan Classic Siena if you're interested).

Heart-shaped...

After eating a suitably themed breakfast I returned to the cellar, where I have been busy working on a project. It has involved making a lot of mess but will, hopefully, ultimately mean I am more organised. Yeah...

Then I made a cake, again on today's theme, as I'm off out to a friend's house in a little while. She's hosting a girly get together, she has the youngest children and it's easier for us to go there than for her to try and palm the boys off somwehere!

Later there will be a lot of project-related washing up and a Chinese takeaway. Happy Birthday to me...