Journal Your Christmas day 32 - notes on a festive season

Happy New Year! I hope you had a nice end to 2015 - we were quiet again, watched a film (Ethan Hawke in "Predestination" - excellent wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff) and ate some rubbish. Happy days! My folks were round for steak pie today and I've been having some thoughts on the Christmas period in general.

(clockwise from top left. Christmas Eve Chookie with my Mum's beautiful tree and Duke, my chocolate pavlova, the first skeleton horse made with her 3D Doodler, Mum and Dad's Christmas Day table, my amaryllis)

We are a house of aetheists. Which I realise makes it seem a bit hypocritical to celebrate a Christian tradition. But I was thinking (doing the washing up, like you do) and before there was Christmas there was the Winter Solstice and Yuletide, celebrating the return of longer days, banishing the dark with song and feasting and basically brightening the darkest days by spending time with family and, yes, gift giving. Now, in the run up to Christmas what Spouse and I (and Chookie, to be honest) were looking forward to most was time off work, hanging out together and eating. And basically something breaking the monotony of this awful run of wet weather we've been having. Sounding all a bit Yule-ish, no? I had coincidentally found myself wishing people a "Cool Yule" in the weeks beforehand, admittedly only because I thought it sounded cute. Now, I'm not planning on converting to Neopaganism any time soon but it pleases me enormously to find my Christmas celebrations have sort of gone back to their roots and come full circle, even if mine have less of The Wild Hunt and more of the hunt for the toffee Quality Street about them. *g*

I'll leave my Christmas journalling this year with a photo of my incredibly grown-up looking Chook. She's at this weird age where sometimes she still looks like a little girl and in the next five minutes looks about 16. The last couple of days have found me priming and assembling her collectors dollhouse, I am positively humfy backit* with painting and glueing but it's been fun all the same and looking really cool. Three more fun-filled days before the back to work gloom sets in, I intend to make the very most of it!

* hunchbacked. Your Scottish lesson for the day.

Lest we forget

I've talked a little about what the military means to me before here and here. My great-grandfather, grandfather and husband were all in the army during different wars and while none of them ever really talked of their experiences (only in the last couple of years has Spouse done anything but dismiss his time served) it shapes people in irrevocable ways.

 The meaning of Armistice Day has changed over the years, the "Never Again" refrain largely being replaced with "We will not forget." A hope for an end to all war seems hopelessly naive, especially in our current climate of invisible terrorists.  Regardless of what one feels about any particular war, our service people ALL deserve our remembrance whether dead, injured physically or mentally, still serving or not. Not a glorification of war but a simple recognition of a hard job done for something larger than oneself.

We can't attend our local service this year due to a clash of schedules but we try and go most years. One of my proudest moments as a parent? Watching my shy 6 year old carry her Beaver colony flag in the local parade in 2008.

• "How important it is for us to recognize and celebrate our heroes and she-roes!"
• Maya Angelou
   

this girl.

Warning. Maternal gushing ahead - move along if you're only here for textiley stuff! Fair warning, okay? *g* 

I'm always a proud Mum - I think it generally comes in with the pregnancy hormones, right? Every little achievement is something to be carefully savoured and locked away in the vaults of memory for leisurely perusal whenever the nostalgic mood takes. From blink-of-an-eye toilet training to the shyest of shy girls doing a reading at her last primary school assembly the moments stack up and I have quite the wobbly pile now. But last night tops the whole bloody lot.

We knew she was getting an award at the junior award ceremony a few weeks ago when the letter came home. We were understandably thrilled - first year (sorry, S1 *rollseyes*) has been quite a transition so to know that at least the actual schooling part of school was going well was a brilliant boost for us all. And then there was a run through on Wednesday afternoon and it turned out she was getting more than one. Well now. It is kept a closely guarded what you have actually been awarded until the night so she was very excited as we got ready to leave. Here she is - incidentally in a skirt I made. Ha! 

(fuzzy photo on account of the nervous excitememt - from both of us!)

And here's her pile of awards. Yes, that's FOUR certificates. *blinks* The English endeavour, the German academic, a Citizenship for her baritone playing in the local youth band and - what I am most proud of - a GOLD personal commitment award. 

For that last one they take into consideration merits for the year (house points), demerits (she has zero), attendance and punctuality and there were only six gold ones handed out in the entire first year. Chook was the only S1 to get an award in all four categories: academic, endeavour, citizenship and personal commitment. So I think we can say she's an all-rounder. I'm trying hard not to be smug but I'm absolutely bursting with pride.

She's a funny wee thing, insisting on wearing her new specs even though she wasn't reading anything at a distance. Specs are cool now, you know. And, given my employment, she has no shortage of choice!

(no photos of her in uniform with them on - so have this one from last weekend)

And she fair skuttled across the stage to receive her first certificate - Spouse and I compared her to a wee nervous duck. But she got straighter each consecutive trip - she had practise doing it four times, I suppose - and we got a cheeky grin and a wave after the last one. Again with the pride bursting from my chest. It's a shame it's not an energy that can be harnessed - we could power the whole of Central Scotland today!

(Photo courtesy of the school Twitter feed!)

And a sign of the times in that it's not a book token you receive now like in my day (this is my old school and I appear to have lost my Robert Louis Stevenson 3rd year biology merit book - rats) but Amazon vouchers! Which I think is deeply cool and thoughtful. Celebratory tea tonight, methinks. And perhaps a little frivolous something. The child has earned it!

oh, happy day!

So it's a busy day today! There is the the solar eclipse here in Europe. How cool was that, by the way! The huge cloud cover here in Scotland actually worked in our favour for a change. It thinned out just enough to make it visible without being blinding. I even got a rubbish but recognisable phone photo of it, look! Look reeeeealy closely...

 But today is also the Spring Equinox and a supermoon AND it is also the UN's International Day of Happiness. As part of the celebrations they have been asking the great, the good and us mere mortals what our happy songs are. I've been thinking about it all week and these are the songs that are guaranteed to get me in a better mood. No matter what.

First up, an oldie but a goodie. From my childhood, my heroes The Police.


And this chap is almost 25 years old. Yikes. Still guaranteed to have my hands in the air after the first few bars, though! And my first car was named Tim after the lead singer.


It's not a happy list without this one, right? I know it's cliched but if you listen to this and don't want to smile then your heart is made of stone. Farrell rules!


Another late teens entry. And another hands aloft song and, incidentally, my favourite song in the whole world. Back when the Stone Roses were the coolest band in the world.


And speaking of cool, hello Slash! My current favourite happy song. Play it loud! (just audio on this one - the official video is NSFW!)


And one final one that makes me smile. Every. Single. Time. The Verve are not normally a happy smiley band but this one? This was my wedding march.


So? Your happy place music? Go!

one little word - commit

I've been seeing these un-resolutions for the year popping up all over the interwebs and I thought, well why not. Choose a word to give some focus to the coming 12 months. Mine was easy to find.

I'm a weird creature. When I commit to something I am 100% invested in it. My sewing output should give some gauge of that. I decided I was going to learn how to knit socks and a week later I had a pair finished. A navy recruiter told me over 20 years ago post-testing that I had "inner steel." And I do.

But I am also a procrastinator. Good intentions, you know? "I could do that/go there/learn that" and then it becomes too much effort and I move on to something else without starting, let alone finishing, the thing. Laid back to a fault would be the phrase.

I did actually jot down some NY resolutions this year. Five of them (FIVE!!) but all small and related to each other. Eat breakfast, get a decent skin care regime, take some exercise and the like. All health conscience lifestyle changes I suspect since this is my first New Year of my forties. And I desperately want to stick to it and follow through. So I will.

But apart from that I have a list of home improvements I want to do this year. And more than one holiday to plan. Local places I want to visit and friends to keep up with and the "manana, manana" approach gets nothing done. So I plan to commit to it ALL this year like a woman posessed. Never mind the happy-go-lucky coasting. Inner steel, Lynz, inner steel.

Blogtoberfest day 30 - Thankful Thursday

Parents. We all have them in some sort of capacity whether you are lucky enough to still have them or have contact with them or not - we're not quite at the stage yet of cloning humans! Here are mine at their wedding 40 years ago.

Now I was quite old before I realised not everyone gets the same gig with parents. I was 20 when my then-boyfriend asked whose favourite I was. At my puzzled look he elaborated that he was his Mum's favourite and his sister was his Dad's. I was mildly horrified and stumbled over my "my parents don't have favourites!" reply and put it down to his family being a bit odd.  Of course, as a not-so-naive 40 year old I now know that, indeed, some parents DO have favourite children. And - even worse - some don't hide the fact!

I am constantly shocked by other people's families. We have a few things going on just now within my larger family. A wedding, a significant birthday, serious illness. And I have friends and colleagues going through a lot of the same things. What always stuns me is how unsupportive and downright selfish some people are to the people who should matter most and what a difference it makes when people DO have a thought outside of themselves. I'm particularly thinking of my uncle (my mum's brother) currently sharing the burden of Wee Granny's palliative radiotherapy with my Mum. She often says how lucky she is to have him.

But those familial bonds obviously don't magically appear or spring forth fully formed. They are like little saplings that need watering and nurturing to do more than just not die - duty will get you so far but it's a bit like existing and not living. And MY parents are awesome gardeners. Our saplings (my brother's and mine) are now a mature silver birch and rowan and we've added to our little wood with a beech, a willow and a wee holly tree. *g*

Mum and Dad being very glam at bro and sis-in-law's wedding in 2006.

So today I am thankful for winning the parental lottery. It really is pure luck who you are born to and my folks really mean it when they say we are the most important thing to them. So thanks to the universe and my Mum and Dad for being marvellous. Although lets get some more photos taken, eh? I have almost none of you both!

is it over yet?

I haven't been especially vocal on the whole Scottish Independence vote. Primarily because I strongly believe it's a private, personal vote and it's no one elses business what I choose. Only those of you really paying attention will have seen a few passing comments on social media! But also because I'm not really that interested in what anyone else is voting - so why should anyone else care what I am thinking?

(This is my polling station. Pretty, eh?)

But as the day dawns today I am pleased and relieved that it is finally here whatever the outcome is. It will finally be over. Why?

1. I am tired being patronised by men. If I hear "but it's an important decision, Lyndsey" one more time there may be (in the words of stalwart Scots detective Taggart) a murrdurr. Excuse the blonde hair, I am actually aware what huge implications for my country and my daughter this has. I started my research months ago to make my mind up. And not by watching a programme on the telly or reading a newspaper because frankly I don't trust them. Bringing me nicely on to..

2. I don't want to know what you are voting. So please stop with the six Facebook status updates a day linking to articles promoting your opinion. I don't entirely trust the BBC to report without bias, I am not going to be influenced by rhetoric surrounded by "what 80's sitcom character are you" and ice bucket challenge videos. Give it a rest and give me cat photos. Or even what you had for your tea! I have actually hidden people from my timeline for this. Not unfriended anyone (because frankly that is ridiculous, small minded shittery. I might unfriend you for being an arse but not because of who you intend to vote for) but temporarily chosen not to see dozens of articles rehashing the same set of figures to say whatever best fits your opinion. Facebook, for me, is for fun. Yes I realise it's an important decision (see point 1) so make it stop!!

3. And finally. It's causing friction. The polls say the vote is approximately split 50/50. That's a LOT of people disagreeing. Now I am not predicting riots in the streets when the results are in (surely to god that won't happen, right?) but even in small ways people are pushing their opinions on others. I saw my level-headed, well educated, business owner brother tell someone to "wind your neck in" a few months ago and that about sums it up. Your opinion is just that. YOUR opinion. I actually saw someone I respect suggest recently that if you haven't made your mind up yet then you've not done your homework. Were you not paying attention to point 1?! Big decision, no absolutes. Two people can read the same set of figures and have polar opinions on what they say. That's how statisticians make their money. Have some respect, for Pete's sake, and please don't assume because someone disagrees with you or can't decide which set of reports to side with that they are thick or aren't taking it seriously. It's very serious. We ALL know that - that is why it's such a difficult decision to make!

Okay, enough of that. Fabric, yarn or horses next time. Be kind to each other, we are all children of the universe! X

10 quilty secrets - the Lynz edition

So, never one to pass up an opportunity to be part of the cool gang I'm joining in with the 10 Quilty Little Secrets dirty laundry sharing. Started by Amy at 13 Spools and generally offering a lot of nodding and agreeing. Or is that just me?

Here goes.

1. I am part of what appears to be a legion of NON pre-washers. I'm just not that organised and I like the stiffness of sewing with fresh-from-the-bolt fabric. 

2. I use my rotary cutter the wrong way. I mean, not upside down or anything. But I pull towards me instead of pushing away from me. I think it comes from all those years of cutting card with an exacto knife - you HAVE to pull it towards you. I assumed you used a rotary the same way until about a year ago when I watched a quilting video on YouTube!

3. I am The World's Crappest Baster. And the more I try to fix it? The worse I seem to get. The last quilt I finished (the Green, Green Grass of Home for my Mum?) I had to unpin and rebaste after 2 rows of quilting. 

4. I hate brights. I don't mind a little bit but am not a fan of quilts with backgrounds of scarlet or canary yellow.

5. I'm a proud member of the ironing, not pressing club. Looks like there's a few of us about, too! 

6. I loath machine binding. It just doesn't look as finished as when it's hand done. Even the beautifully finished ones I have seen don't do it for me.

7. I don't think Aurifil is any better than any other thread I have used. 

8. I love brown. And batiks. In fact, I can go one better. I LOVE CIVIL WAR PRINTS. There. I said it. I have a plan one day to make a proper old-fashioned traditional quilt. In fact, I almost joined a Civil War block of the month club earlier this year. One day!

9. My batting buying is getting cheaper and cheaper. The stuff I currently have is low-loft cotton but is recycled. From what I am afraid to ask. In fact, I wonder if this has bearing on number 3. Maybe I need to go back to Warm & Natural and see?

10. I have loads of beautiful (I mean really, REALLY beautiful) doll quilts and nowhere to put them. I have 2 up in my wee room but the rest are rolled up in a careful pile. I have accordingly stopped swapping mini quilts!

There. I'm not sure I feel any better but I do feel a certain solidarity with other knickers-in-public girls. 

On thoughtful stashing. What stash?!

I read an interesting blog post the other day by Debbie/a Quilter's Table on successful stash building where she led back to an original post by Jeni/In Color Order. Jeni's original post was basically a guide to having a decent sized balanced stash. Debbie added that it is equally important to build a stash full of fabrics that suit YOU and your style.

Me? Well after reading and nodding along I decided that while I agree with what both girls say, it really doesn't apply to me. You see, I don't actually have a stash that I build. After over five years quilting this is ALL my fabric. And the pile on the top right isn't quilting weight cotton.

Actually, that's a wee lie to say I have no more fabric. Here's my scraps. And the overfull box on the bottom is solids.

Meagre, right? But it is deliberately done. While I find it nice to have enough fabrics to be able to whip up little somethings on a whim, when it comes to planning a quilt? I really enjoy the choosing and buying of fabrics, it's a major part of my prep work and it's the only time I browse fabrics. I'm not a fan of fabric shopping unless I have a project in mind (I know, right?) which I think helps the non-aquiring since I'm rarely tempted. Coz I don't see fabric!

So when it comes to stash building? I choose not to. Am I alone? Surely not. Am I?!

Prom!

I'm unsure when exactly it started and I'd like to meet the person who instigated it so I can tell them how stupid I think it is.* But round these parts all the P7's who are about to leave primary school and start the local secondary after the summer get all dressed up, get together and have a last shindig. A prom. For 11 and 12 year olds. Honestly.

My Chook? She insisted on a turquoise dress with NO glitter, jewels or petticoats. Not easy to find, I can tell you! She also wanted a Lady Gaga style hair bow. That is, her hair styled into a bow - not a ribboned addition. And, yes, that's a voo-doo doll pinned into it!

A fair few kids had hired (in my humblest of opinions) ridiculous pink, stretch Hummers and the like for their transport. I suppose it matches the fake tans, platform stilettos and nail extensions floating about. I shit you not - on 11 year olds. *blinks* I'm such an auld fart.  Chook and her pals? One of the other girl's Grandads offered his services as chauffeur in his open top Mini! It was decked out in balloons and suited our girls perfectly. Chook's in the turquoise in the middle of all these pics.

They made a stop at what is about to become their old primary school for a few shots. We got a couple of sedate shots first. Well, relatively speaking. You can just about see Chook's leather cuff, too. It is white and turquoise with skulls on it - coz a corsage was "a bit girly and not very me."

And then the posing started. They do make me laugh!

And when I picked her up a few hours later? She'd had a ball, danced all night and the only casualty was her hair! Heh heh. (note the kilted guys in the background!)

The prom marks the end of three timetabled days at the secondary for all the kids who move up after the summer. I think the transition days are such a brilliant idea, especially if they go magnificently like Chookie's have! She has met teachers, discovered the general layout of the building, made new friends and even sussed the cafeteria! And she LOVES German, Home Economics and Science. So we should have a relatively relaxed summer and (hopefully, please Mister Universe) a nice smooth move onwards and upwards!

*I have absolutely no issue with marking the end of their first phase of schooling. And it's a lovely idea to get ALL the kids together to celebrate it. But why call it Prom?! Why not just the Leaver's Dance? Prom puts a whole different emphasis on things and takes away from the real senior prom when they are 17 and 18 and leaving school. Humbug.

Is it just me?

I've tried, I really have. They have been bought and perused, I've made effort over the years to buy different kinds from different countries, I've even not limited myself to specifically quilting types. The fact remains.

I do not like sewing magazines.

There. I said it out loud. *hyperventilates*

I'm not going to name any specific titles but, yes, I've tried all the new ones, the super-popular ones, the foreign ones and none of them hold my interest or inspire me. It's always *flick, flick* Done. Is that it?! 

I'm a freak, aren't I?

Now, please don't get me wrong. Almost all the mag content I've seen lately has been beautiful and things that I would love to or have already made. But for some reason I am not getting any real pleasure out of sitting down with a cuppa and a new read. Apart from the smell. New mag smell is the best!!

I do wonder if it's because all the best bits have popped up in my feed before I actually see the paper copies. So I'm familiar with the most striking bits of content already. Because I love magazines. I subscribed faithfully for about 4 years to a scrapbooking mag and without fail every month I found a whole bunch of stuff I wanted to try. But back then I wasn't a big blog reader so it was my sole source of inspiration apart from one message board. Nowadays with blogs, Pinterest, Instagram and Flickr (although I can't seem to log into there just now - unless I use the app. Most inconvenient!) I'm fairly bombarded with images and must-makes. I'm confident enough to be able to have a bash at something without needing step-by-steps, too, so those pages are generally redundant.

So without trying to be controversial or hurt any feelings I just genuinely wondered if it's just me that the internet has ruined for craft mags? Or should I just shut up and duck-and-cover?

P.S. Just to complete my freakishness? I don't like the Great British Sewing Bee, either. Which makes no sense coz I'm addicted to the Great British Bake-off. Contrary besom, right?

We will never forget.

This is John Chalmers: known to his friends as Sandy. Known to my Wee Granny as Dad and my Mum as Pop - her Grandfather. He fought in WWI as a member of the Black Watch. We don't know any details of his time at war but we do know his elder brother was killed. Sandy came home, married his sweetheart Maggie and settled down to start a family.

This on the left is David Barbour: known to his friends as Davie, known to my Dad as Dad and to me as Grandpa. He fought in Italy during WW2. He also came home, married his sweetheart Ina and started a family.

Neither of my forefathers were known to talk much about their experiences during consecutive world wars (I do remember my Grandpa complaining about Italian plumbing til the day he died!) but I'm guessing they weren't much in the kicks and giggles department. I have first hand accounts of the army during the First Gulf War from my spouse. And I think it's important to remember those who returned scarred, those who returned relatively unscathed and those who gave up their chance at starting families so that we could and still can start ours with a degree of freedom. And, yes, to never forget.

P.S. Get those old photos copied and spread around the family, peeps! I did massive amounts of hard-and-digital copying 10 years ago from both sides of my family - catch those stories before they are gone forever!

On not wishing it away

I hate people who wish other people's time away. You know the sort who gush "that's so-and-so's holiday almost over" when it's only Wednesday?  That really bugs me. But I'm finding myself more and more often quietly despairing that Chookie's childhood is nearly over - despite her only being newly 11. She just seems to be leaping towards teenage and adulthood at an alarming rate. A case in point? The new school shoes and bag.

Look at these. They could be MY new work shoes and bag. That actually is a ladies handbag. It's cool though,  right?

And then there's the new trainers. Excuse me, hightops. The size and style are just....too grown up. Even though they're not really grown up. But they're - again - what I wear. That's mine at the front for comparison. Bye bye baby.



But maybe I should be enjoying this stage. You know, still getting a blether with her without her thinking I know absolute nothing about anything. Having a giggle together at her Dad's expense. Doing cat impressions. Making Nigel the toy pony "accidentally" swear to make her laugh so hard she cries. 

She did ask me to make her pencil case. I suspect she won't go to the high school next year with a homemade anything.



And when we couldn't find a lanyard anywhere for her house badges to go on? We bought a keyring and fashioned one.



So maybe I do need to stop the mid-week "holiday's over" thinking and enjoy my last few days of vay-cay. Before the Monday morning that is teenagerhood really hits! And after lamenting how fast the time has gone? This 4 year old post with her High School Musical obsessed school stuff feels like a lifetime ago!

SOPA and PIPA

I've seen a few references to this proposed US legislation within the quilting blogasphere today and wanted to add my own tuppence. But I found someone who says it much better.

Take it away, Wil Wheaton.

I'm British so I can't email my senator but I can do my wee bit to raise awareness, right? Right.

a decade on

I know September 11th 2001 was a Tuesday coz I was shopping on my afternoon off when the Spouse phoned me to say that someone had flown a plane into one of the Twin Towers in New York. I remember thinking "why are you telling me this? I'm sorry that some silly pilot with a wee 2 seater plane has been an eejit but, really?" and went back to my important cushion choices. I had just pulled into the carpark of another shop (I think looking for winter bedding plants) when he phoned again.

"Someone's flown another plane into the towers!" he exclaimed. And I mused it was a bit of a coincidence that two pilots were having bad days.

"No," he said"it's passenger jets. Terrorists have hijacked them...."

I may have broken the speed limit on my way home and remember not taking the time to take my coat off while I frantically switched on the telly and tried to find Sky news. Then watching the footage gobsmacked and on my knees, surrounded by shopping bags full of frivolities.

We had friends in New York at the time and knew they both had quite close ties to the towers. One worked in the building next door, the other had business in the ground floors every morning. They had flown home for a holiday the day before.

I can't pretend to know what it feels like to really be a part of something this astronomically heartbreaking but know as a bystander it is pretty perspective inducing. I always felt guilty about those bloody cushions.

My thoughts today are with the whole world. How did it come to this?

narky Nan revealed.

Howdy! Some brief waffling and then I'm off to...do something. Prolly sit in front of the telly and have an early night. I am on the humpty side and feel the need to blog so apologies in advance. So.

I'm going camping. In a tent. Shut it, you lot, I can hear the sniggers. The Scout district camp is a week on Saturday (nice bit of notice, huh?) and our Cubs are going overnight. Under canvas. Therefore and ergo? So does yours truly. Haven't camped ever, haven't a clue what to take for me OR Chook. Info not forthcoming. Hoping I don't have to shop for anything as time is running out. But rather looking forward to the whole thing if getting a bit cheesed off with the Paris Hilton persona I seem to have adopted. At least in other people's eyes. Yes, I like a shower in the morning. No, that doesn't make me high maintenance or someone afraid to get her hands dirty or a complete wimp. I think a lot of people are mistaking a love of sewing, clean hair and pretty things for just that. They are totally missing the sporty tomboy that loves zombie t-shirts and climbing trees. Grr.

Anyway, in anticipation I've been checking out other leaders' badge blankets. As in, camp fireside wear to show off your badges. And I remembered I had these.

 My Brownie badges! There's at least one missing and I wasn't a Guide so I don't have any more but they're thirty years old. Knew I was hanging onto them for something!

It was a Bank Holiday here on Monday. I was working but spouse and Chook were off. They went to see Gnomeo and Juliet (spouse said it was honking bad!), KFC for lunch and some shopping. New ponies were bought and this for me!

 Heh heh. Very me, huh? I'm thinking about taking it camping for my mid-morning elevenses with cucumber sammiches and a cream cake. Not really. Bitter much, Lynz?

And my splurge arrived!!

A full fat quarter bundle (my first of an entire line!) of Denyse Schmidt's Picnic and Fairground range that she's designed for JoAnn's. You obviously cannae buy it here in backwoods Britain - these are an Etsy purchase. I missed out on Katie Jump Rope (as in, wasn't quilting then!) and never did get round to Hope Valley (apart from the odd FQ which I dearly love) so didn't think too hard about nabbing these guys. I'm really chuffed with them and they can happily sit on my shelf until I find the perfect project for them.

And so I bid you adieu and go off to do my......whatever. With my pink diamonds and chihuahua. I promise I'll have buried the Mizz Hilton comparisons by next time and be less......narky. Ciao!

on why I blog

This blog started as a portfolio for an online photography course I did in 2008. I had to have a dedicated blog for it (I already had a separate one that had some bits and pieces from a Flickr scrapbooking venture in it) and the name popped into my head. For those not in the geeky know, it's a play on words of George Lucas' (Mr Star Wars) special effects company Industrial Light and Magic. Anyway, I never did finish the course (I didn't like the format) and the blog languished for a good six months before I spent a very happy afternoon re-reading a lot of UKScrappers forum posts before they were deleted in a cull. I liked how I'd recorded the minutae in conversations as although I was an avid scrapbooker of events AND moments, the teeny tiny snippets of nonsense weren't represented. So I smooshed the little used blog and this proto blog together and started blethering. Not to anyone. Certainly not as a journal since I don't keep one. Hell, I rarely even vocalise my innermost feelings and schtuff; I sure as eggs ain't putting it out on the internet for all to see! This was just a notebook. A life record. For me. And maybe for wee Chookie since my scrapbooking is almost nil these days.

And people started reading it. And commenting. And following so they were interested enough to want to read again, maybe. It's still weird. In a nice way, though! I know there's something like 80 odd followers over there on the sidebar and I get a couple or five comments on most posts. But I discovered the stats setting in the dashboard the other day.

Wow.

And WOW.

There's a LOT of you visiting!!! Something like 1500 pageviews last month!! And it got me wondering if there's any of you who aren't sidebar-following but are Google-readering me on the private setting. Fancy saying hi? Just for nosiness' sake, likes. Like I said up there, this is my notebook, I blog whether there's anyone reading or not. But it's nice to know I'm not a complete bore.

And on to more important things. I inherited some cushions and a throw from my Mum earlier in the week - they are gorgeous but I didn't know if I could use the weird aqua colour. Turns out it's really nice in my purple bedroom!!! I bought a new quilt cover but wanted to pull some purple into the bedding and remembered I had two really nice shaped striped bolster cushions. They are a fab shape but I think they're too dark for the aqua. Something mauve you think? More the colour value of the cushions? I think so. I need to shop (and yes, before anyone says, I'm just planning on new covers for them!)

Go on, let me know what you think. You know you want to! If it sways you any I discombobulated the word verification about 3 weeks ago (after reading this post) so it's easier and quicker!! And you don't need a Google account! Gwan......make my day. *winning smile* Say hi.

Little Miss Grumpy.

Do you know there isn't a Little Miss Grumpy in the Roger Hargreave books? Obviously because only men are crabbit. Not so in our house yesterday!

I had a bad day. Long story short? Busy at work. No leeway given for amount of busy from stupid shops (a 3 day turnaround just ain't happening this week so STOP telling patients that it is okay!!) but I got paid. Woop!! Only I had massive trouble at the bank putting in wages cheque - all sorted 25 minutes later but since I only get half an hour for lunch? Not helpful. Couldn't find what I wanted for Papa's birthday even in Glasgow and then struggled to find a card with Papa on it. Seriously? Is it so weird to not have a Grandad? And then. Oh, the disaster. I've coveted a green waterfall cardigan in a local shop for about 3 weeks now. So, having such a rubbish day? I decided I was having it. I went into shop. And when I finally found it? It was in the plus size bit. I'm a 10/12 - the smallest they had was a 18/20. I'm talking circus tent on me. Grrr.

However, it's a new day today! I have a plan for Freddie's pinwheels (about to start basting!), the fence is all done (thank you Juliet for asking), the sun is out and I got a nice brown waterfall cardi for less than half the price of the green one. And it's my early day so come 12.30? I am outta here!!

on modern art.

I appreciate art of most schools. But I LOVE modern art. Specifically early to mid 20th century stuff. You know the sort: cubism, expressionism, minimalism and op art (without the P!). Some favourite artists in a loooong list would be,

Jackson Pollock (Summertime - 9A)

Piet Mondrian (Composition with yellow, blue and red)

Giacomo Balla (Abstract Speed and Sound)

Bridget Riley (Kiss)

Now, I know not everyone likes modern art. A very dear friend always said she just doesn't "get" it and she likes her painting to look like things.

"But, Lynz, what is it supposed to beeee?!?!"

*snort* It's supposed to be something pretty to look at, dearest! What makes a drift of tulips beautiful? The colour? The shapes? Same thing, innit? So why can't pretty shapes and colours on a canvas or wood be appreciated just for being pretty? Tulips don't mean anything! They just ARE.

I'll be the first to admit that I am an intelligent woman who doesn't enjoy particularly cerebral things. I like trashy books and escapist telly. I don't enjoy debating politics or religion (I have barely an opinion on one and an unshakeable and frankly quite bald opinion of the other) and likewise I'm not overly thoughtful over my art loves. But that's it right there. I love them. It's purely an emotional response, not an intellectual one. I mean, yeah, I see dancers in the Pollock above and the residual movement of whatever has whizzed through the Balla, a sexy curve in the Riley but I don't actively look for things in them. Sometimes things pop out but I'm equally quite happy to just appreciate them for being pretty - the Mondrian I have always loved (I think it's the straight lines - so unusual!). Does that make me a bit shallow? Or a bit of a flake?

Frankly? I don't care. Although I will admit to not "getting" most YBA installations. You know the ones. Unmade beds and the like. I mean, huh? Even the shark in formaldehide has more interest than that!!!!

Ten years ago.

Ten years ago, I was coming up 25 (and felt so old!), drove a powder blue Rover Mini that someone special restored for me, lived in a lovely old flat and spent too much money on skateboard trainers, CD's and books. Oh, and I got married. *grins*

Today is our 10th wedding anniversary and - bizarrely enough - the weather is pretty much the same. And by that I mean it is raining heavily!! We got a 10 minute window running to the registrars and a whole hour to take photos before it started up again. It was a lovely day, though. Very relaxed and informal and by seven thirty we were on our way to the airport to go on honeymoon. And I walked down the aisle to the Verve since I can't stand the traditional wedding march shenanigans. I don't think I would change anything if I got married tomorrow!

I can't truthfully say we've had no fights, disagreements or short periods of tension but, y'know, I think we've done pretty damn well. He's still one of my best friends and still manages to surprise the hell out of me with what he knows and thinks. Plus he makes me laugh like a drain on a regular basis. Oh, yeah, and there's that love thing, too. *g* And he restores brilliant cars.

Happy Anniversary, Spouse. And a big "yah-boo" to all those who thought we were nuts getting engaged after 5 months - I was right and you were wrong, ner-ner-nerner-ner!! Here's to the next 10! *muah*