What makes a bunny happy?

This is Ned.

He truly is a happy bunny. Not only is he living beyond all reasonable expectations (he is at least eight and his lop eared hutch mate - Fudge - popped her paws several years ago) , but he is living it with such gay abandon. He spends his days frolicking around the garden feasting on such seasonal treats as the newly emerging buds of my beloved wild primroses - and basically anything else he can spot.

Those plants that I have tried to protect by planting them in pots have proved particularly delightful.  With these he can fashion a method to scale the pot, make a lovely little nest, sunbathe for a bit -  and then eat said plant.

He loves to snuggle up alongside Jessie Dog when the sun is shining and often shares some seed with our resident robin. What's not to be happy about?

I, on the other hand, am not a happy bunny.

Some time ago I decided that it would be a lovely idea to create a crochet blanket masterpiece such as those that I'd been seeing all over Ravelry, made up of lovely starburst granny squares.

 After my first two squares realism kicked in and I downsized my thinking. If I managed sixteen I could make a perfectly respectable cushion like this one.

 It was a portable project and travelled around with me for many months. I searched through my stash and found complementary colours, diligently mixing them so that they would be used in equal amount.

I proudly gazed at each one as I stitched in the loose ends and spent a long time planning which order they would go in - different colour backgrounds in each row both across and down.

 At this point my happiness rating was on a par with Ned.

Then I stitched them together. Hmm.

Then I pinned the cover out to block. Double hmm.

My happiness rating was on the dip down.
What on earth was going on with the corners?

Why are those ugly gaps there?

What should I do?
Do I forget the whole thing and frog it?
Do I painstakingly take it all apart stitch by stitch and start again ( please noooooooo!)
Or do I go ahead and make up the cushion but put it somewhere low key?
Has this happened to anyone else and is there an obvious way to stop it happening again?
Should I retire to the garden and eat the primroses?
Is there any way to restore this bunny's happiness?
Helllllllppppp!

x

One wall, many faces

Think of a wall. 
Practical - yes. 
Necessary - usually. 
Inspiring - hmm. 

Each day Jessie Dog and I stroll along the tow path. Life along the canal changes with the seasons - the flurry of wildlife activity in Spring, the colourful hustle of holiday boats in Summer, lengthening shadows and golden reflections in the Autumn and the dramatic monochromatic images we witness each Winter. All attention is focussed on the water. But if I look to my right I am faced with another set of images. Before the tow path opens out in to hedgerows and open fields there is a high wall. Made mostly of engineering bricks and old Victorian red it performs a variety of functions.

Bordering the edges of gardens.

Propping up the railway.

Providing a turning point for the horses that used to tow the boats.

And entrances - now defunct.

Looking closer you recognise the variety of colours and textures.

The variety of plant life.

And plants provide habitats for creatures.

Where the man made starts to decay nature starts to thrive.

(Although the legacy of Tez still holds strong after thirty years!)

Life on the wall is perhaps not as overtly picturesque as the canal but on close inspection it is an incredible structure. It doesn't just fulfil it's practical obligations - it does so much more. I'm sure the original architect did not expect it to diversify in such a way  - who could predict that something as hard and uninspiring as a brick could age and adapt to it's environment. But the wall has done just that. It is now host to an abundance of living organisms and the unexpected beauty which that brings. 

Inspiring - definitely.

x

A tiny bit of love

Just a teeny tiny post to share a teeny tiny bit of love ... 

Happy Valentines Day xxx

The amber glass beads

Do you like amber?
Do you like amber glass?
Do you like amber glass beads - with a little bit of history thrown in?
Here's a little morsel to tempt you with.

For as long as I can remember these beads have been around. When I was a child they were kept in a box with mum's 'best' jewellery. I knew that they were special but never really knew their exact history. Many years ago I borrowed them, for whatever reason, and have (accidentally) never managed to hand them back! Since then they have adorned my various dressing table mirrors where there translucent richness has reflected back on itself tenfold. 

This is Harriet.

She was my great grandmother. I always knew her as Nanny, and to mum she was 'Nan'.

My actual grandmother was Irene.

Sadly Irene succumbed to a bout of tuberculosis, age 22, following the birth of her third child. Mum was thirteen months old at the time. Nanny had ten other children yet, at the same time as grieving for her daughter, took mum in and raised her as her own. Great Grandad earned a modest wage as a printer but with so many mouths to feed there was never a lot of money to go around. But Harriet was generous to a  fault. Whatever little they had there was always enough to share. The house was always full and there was always food on the table. The step got scrubbed and the stove was 'blacked'. She was a proud, down to earth woman who would stand no nonsense!

Here she is on the left with Auntie Blod (yes, really) and an adorable pup!

Mum was evacuated to the nearby Cheshire countryside when she was three years old. Her life then became one of collecting eggs and acres of grass and fresh air - a vast difference to the inner city Liverpool she had left behind. By the end of the war she was to return to Nanny who, by then, seemed like a stranger. Nanny knew that mum might struggle to adapt back to city life but was determined to be the best mother she could.

 Mum at the bottom right with a proud Nan behind - V.E. Day 1945

Mum remembers Nanny as having two outfits for 'best'. According to the occasion it would either 1) a brown woollen pin stripe skirt suit or 2) a black taffeta dress ( top photo). There was never any dallying over what to wear - it was one or the other! Similarly she had her jewellery - short glass beads or long amber beads.  Sadly I can find no photo of her wearing the amber beads but here they are

As a child I remember going to visit Nanny on a Saturday. The house was large and packed with dark furniture. We never went in the parlour at the front unless it was a special occasion. Instead we would follow the smell of 'scouse' (Liverpudlian hotpot) toward the scullery and find Nanny in her favourite chair next to the blazing fire. I would sit at the table by the window overlooking the small back yard and draw, or read my comics, while mum and Nanny would put the world to rights (I always knew there was a scandal when voices would suddenly turn hushed!) As Nanny got older she retreated more and more into that wonderfully warm and cosy room. Instead of dragging herself up two flights of stairs in an old draughty house she decided to stay by the fire. She sat in front of an old sideboard and it seemed to me that it contained everything you might ever need. She would open one drawer and it would contain neatly folded parcel paper and some string. Another would contain old ribbons and trimmings, dutifully saved from past clothing, presents or flowers. A third contained old letters and cards.There was one drawer that I never got to mooch around in. This was were she kept her essentials - brush, 'lippy' and beads. I remember glimpsing the amber beads from time to time and thinking that they must be real gold.

 Looking at them later I could see how well they had been cared for. As something she treasured you can see how Nanny had adopted her 'make do and mend' philosophy. A couple of bits of knotted string and some 'irregular bead formation' makes me wonder how often they must have been rethreaded - and what event had led up to them breaking in the first place?

For now though they hang ceremoniously on my mirror. A reminder of a real lady - strong, resourceful and kind. She lived until the ripe old age of eighty nine years old and swore her longevity was due to her daily bottle of stout and twenty Benson and Hedges ciggies. We'll leave her in the snug of her favourite pub and raise a glass.

Cheers Nanny xxx

Snippets

This week started with a rare visit from my big brother. He works over in New York and only gets over here a couple of times a year so it's always an excuse for a get together. Mr K cooked a fantastic three course Sunday lunch and it was lovely to regress into brother and sister roles with mum, dad and Little Sis joining in the banter. The noticeable difference from our usual gathering was the absence of Big Sis. Her nineteenth birthday was on Monday and this year was the first time she hasn't been at home - I wasn't going to let this be the first year she didn't have a home made cake. Big bro had business appointments in London on Monday so he was charged with cake delivery duties. You can imagine how thrilled he was to carry a 'Keep Calm and Eat Cake' tin from Staffordshire to Euston, meeting to meeting, but it was all worth it for us to see her and her lovely friends tucking in via the magic of Skype.

Happy birthday my gorgeous girl x

Midweek I had to give a presentation about a project I have been working on in school for the last three months. Now - I can talk. In my mum's words 'I can talk the hind legs off a donkey' ( if anyone can tell me what that means I'd be truly grateful!) But when it comes to talking in front of a group of peers, however prepared  I am, I get the dry mouth syndrome. 'Try just concentrating on one person' - uncomfortable, 'pretend you are practising in a mirror' - nope, 'imagine they are all naked' - what, hold on, no that's definitely weird. I got through it, I actually quite enjoyed it, but boy was I relieved when it was over. I came home that evening and immediately poured myself into some crochet therapy by making a cute little camera case!

(I am now pilfering wool from my long suffering unfinished ripple blanket to make quick and easy stuff - must stop doing that and actually finish big project first)

Then came Friday. I love Fridays. I finish at lunchtime, meet up with mum, have a good old natter and follow up with some serious 'seccy' shopping. We are lucky in that our respective towns have a supply of around six or seven charity shops and we have both developed a keen eye for what we like. With mum it's usually 1) a skirt (apparently you can never have too many), or 2) a book (ditto). With me it's whichever way the wind is blowing. Today it was the turn of this

My thought process went like this.

Q:What's that? A: a double boiler. 

Q:What on earth do you do with it? A: heat things slowly 

Q: I wonder if any one uses these any more A: doubt it very much

Q: How much is it? (screeeeech - this is the part where any logic goes out the window) 

A: £2.50

It's fate was sealed. It had to be mine. What else can you even buy for £2.50 these days? And after all Mr K loves his porridge - I would be doing him a great disservice by not buying it. 

I bought it.

(If anyone has any top tips for what you can actually do with these they would be gratefully received!)

 Alongside my purchase was something I can always justify. A selection of Ladybird books.

I particularly love the 'What to look for ...' series and would like to compare the Ladybird version with real life when Spring and Summer finally get here. I wonder if I'll see anything like this?

Wouldn't that be fantastic?

I'll leave you with the February page of my calendar.

It's a detail from 'The Hare and the Hedgehog' by German artist Gustav Sus. I'm not familiar with the story but there's definitely a class issue there!

Have a wonderful warm weekend. 

Jane x

Browns, buds and berries

I know it's not technically January any more but when I saw the idea of making a monthly mood board over at The Linen Cloud (thanks Bee!) I thought it would be a great excuse to practice bettering my photography skills (or lack of). It also gave me an excuse to look even closer at what's going on in my much loved garden. I reckon I can get away with the date as these were things that were actually around in January (however tempted I was to put in the newly emerging buds of Pussy Willow I managed to resist).

This is possibly the worst photo of all but it shows the variety of material available

There are the evergreens which come into their own when all around is sleeping - ivy, blackberry, spotted bay, holly

Browns - tansy, aster, hydrangea

With the most exquisite seed heads

Berries - a stark contrast to the more muted tones 

 And then buds - a sign of regeneration and hope

I'm going to wait a good four weeks until I do the next board and I expect there will be a huge contrast in material.

I hope you are seeing signs of regeneration wherever you are x