Spring Fever 2.

Cat fever more like. This image of the Mog during his springtime roll around the garden was so lovely I thought it should have a post all to itself.

And here it is.

Spring Fever and Sashiko.

I don't care when the official start date of Spring is meant to be, as far as I am concerned, Spring sprung this week. Two days in a row I was able to sit on the bench in the garden without the aid of a balaclava. At one point I removed my jumper and there were only two layers between me and the elements. Strange time of year, it was warm with a hint of freezing. I supervised the gardener at his pruning and Magnus supervised the pruned branches as they fell.

Monday saw me in Glasgow at the Collins Gallery for a marvelous Sashiko workshop led by Sara Keith. There were many interesting people there including fellow blogger Hazel/The Art Room Plant. The workshop was a lesson in the beauty and complexity of very simple stitching. I was reminded once again that there are times when it pays to slow down and be precise. Thankfully there was a sunny bench this week where I could sit and practice being meticulous.

And if meticulous lets you down, you can always make the failed project into a stunning cat toy which will be sniffed at once and then left hanging on the side of a chair.

Long Suffering Bear, an apology.

You see, Long Suffering Bear isn't even my bear, it belongs to my other half. I call it Long Suffering Bear on account of the droopy frame and world weary expression. I have to prop the fellow up in order to take half decent pictures.

Poor old bear has been dressed up a lot recently and I fear more indignities ahead. I am knitting tiny things for a not yet arrived child and that makes photographing the finished object a little difficult. Even when the arrival actually arrives, web etiquette suggests that it is not the done thing to post pictures of someone else's child on your public access blog. So the bear it is.

There has been sewing too - but nothing finished as I concentrated on the tiny knitting. And three days in Glasgow with three films a day - which was magical, terrifying and sobering all in one big lump. Magnus has been on the case, helping with my knitting and being a general menace. We went out for dinner last night, to friends in the village and the cat followed us. He gatecrashed the party and ate cream from the pudding bowls before falling asleep in a menacing manner just above our hosts' rat's cage.

The observant amongst you might notice that I am wearing pajamas in the not so flattering picture. It was only just after lunchtime and I had sworn to myself that I would finish the little white smock before doing anything else that day. Including getting dressed.

A good blue day.

I have been making this beast for months and it is finally finished. Made from thrifted and gifted pairs of jeans and mattress ticking from a second hand shop, it cost me practically nothing except blood sweat and toil. Literal blood - my softy knitter's fingers were unprepared for the hardship of sewing without a thimble. At one point I needed to call upon Archie's pliers to help me through three layers of fabric.

The crockery in the picture were the templates for the circles that I embroidered in my own sashiko-ish way. One dinner plate, a side plate, and a bowl that my chum Marianne had brought one day filled with cholcolate brownies and I'd failed to return.


I like it very much. So much that I ran outside and threw it in the snow so that I could take some snazzy pictures. The light was blue with cold and so was I.

Curtains, why bother?

I've never liked curtains. Not for me the the big fully lined blackout that keeps a room in darkness till noon. I want to know that the light is changing and to lift my head, half-awake and catch the dawn as it breaks. Or, as happened in my teenage bedroom, to lie on the mattress* on the floor and watch as the ceiling changed colour, reflecting of the flare from the local Gas Plant.

It all went horribly wrong when I moved to Glasgow and lived in a flat on a busy road. I continued my no-curtain policy till one day I wandered into my room naked from a shower. A movement from across the road caught my eye. In the window opposite, stood a group of young men waving enthusiastically. The curtains went up that same day. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, a few weeks later I told the tale while having a drink in my local pub. A young man at the table leaned over saying: " So that was you ! " He had been one of the window enthusiasts.

I may be softening though, last week saw us back in Glasgow shopping for the things you need after a bathroom and a living room have been decorated. I wasn't convinced that we needed a blind for the bathroom, after all we are one floor up and have frosted glass. Then I found the most beautiful blind ever - a Lucienne Day design in perfect colours. It has been purchased and placed with great care in our loo and I find myself wandering in every now and then just for a look.

In other news Kat was the winner of my pick a picture competition. My mother very kindly drew the winning name from a paper bag yesterday. Let me know what picture you would like.

* Not that I was was forced to sleep on a mattess due to parental cruelty. I was sixteen and thought I was being cool.

Kerchief? Bless You.

I've been exiled to Knitting Headquarters while the live in decorator paints downstairs. The living room is shrouded in dustcovers like some neglected eighteen century ballroom and I'm in the attic with only Magnus and Daphne du Maurier for company. Neither of whom are great conversationalists although Daphne tells the better story. I've been working on some simple crafty things after realising that good concentration and DIY just doesn't work for me. So I've neglected my socks and lace in favour of a log cabin square and when that fails I have been sewing some little fiddly things.

Today I made a scarf out of some second hand fabric and the lining of an old skirt. It is a triumph of my sewing machine skills, none of which include either neatness or accuracy but the end product looks just fine. I had planned to make a kerchief/bandana but on reflection found that a rectangle was much easier to sew than a triangle. Later on in the quiet of the room with only the distant sound of sandpapering for company, I did what anyone would do under the circumstances.

I dressed up the cat.

Pick a favourite picture

First of all, thank you all very much for the catty good wishes. Magnus is extremely well indeed and was last seen in the middle of a tree helping Archie fill the birdfeeders. ( It is still dark here which explains the rather poor quality image. )

Talking of images, I'd like to offer one of mine. I was looking at Craft Hope this morning and all the items that have been donated by the kindness of the craft community to support the people of Haiti. It got me thinking that I'd like to offer something. Then I looked around a house filled with dust, bathroom renovations and badly shaved cats and realised that there was no way I would be able to sort anything out before the deadline for donations.

So I have come up with an alternative plan. A competition. I would like to invite blog readers to donate to MSF or the DEC or any other charity supporting the work in Haiti and to leave a comment letting me know that you have donated. I don't need to know how much and will take it on trust that a donation has been made. If you have already given, then that will still count although if you would like to donate again then feel free.

There are many designers on Ravelry who are donating profits from pattern sales this month and that would be a great way to support independent designers and make a donation at the same time. Here is just one example - Ysolda Teague

I'll leave the comments open until the end of the month and will then randomly pick a winner.
The winner will in turn be asked to pick a favourite image from the blog, or my Flickr pages and I will get a print made and sent off. I hope that all makes sense - bathroom up-doings aren't very good for the concentration.