Confusion abounds.

The house is proving to be a source of confusion for Magnus and the local birds. Magnus can't belive that the living room window sill should be used for purposes other than his own ( the radiator underneath is pleasingly warm) and he was most put out this week when I needed it for :

A - Hat blocking. This is the Cabled Beret by Ashley Hasse. A lovely fast knit and the first time I've used a plate for blocking, not that Magnus cares.


B - Sourdough. Inspired by the yeasts of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall I've been wandering around the house gathering my own for a sourdough starter. It needed a warm place to get going and once again the Mog was not best pleased.

The poor old birds are also very confused, they think that the kitchen window is fresh air and have been bashing into it at regular intervals. This time I found a dazed goldfinch lying on its side looking like the end was nigh. A few minutes held in the warmth of my hand and then a quiet cat-free spot for recovering was all that was needed but in order to prevent another dull thud, I made a bird sillhouette and stuck it onto the window. You can see by the picture why I never pursued a career in fine art. The birds seem to be fooled though and that is the main thing.

 

We were all surprised by the view from the kitchen window the next morning. The first snowfall of 2010.

Pink in the middle.

                                 
The clocks went back last Saturday which means the official end of British Summertime.  The light begins to dim around three in the afternoon and the curtains are closed against the chill by tea time. Which may go some way to explaining the peculiar outbreak in the Mog household. There is a lack of colour in the day that needs to be addressed.

                                          

Now I'm not really a pink sort of a gal - I wanted football boots for Christmas when I was little and was more inclined to arrange my dolls into various tableau than to dress them up in snazzy frocks.  I remember creating wonderful fairy lands on the spare bed and in the bottom of the wardobe.  I remember greens and blues and the brown of my rug with the horses on it. It has taken until this gloomy autumn for the pink to appear.

I've had plans to make a quilt for ages and have collected many different old shirts from Angus' finest charity shops.  The quilt remains unmade but I have sacrificed some of the fabric and cut them into strips for a scarf. The backing is an old man's flannelly dressing gown that I bought second hand and subsequently boil washed against lingering germs. The end result is vibrant and shiny and bold and far too much for me. The next step is to slowly hand stitch across the lurid side in a simple Kantha style. I have a long train journey in front of me next week and this looks like the perfect project to take with me.