I went to London and all I took was 1 photo!

EEEK! it never ceases to amaze me how quickly time passes between blogs...
The past week has been very busy - working (bleurch...) knitting, sewing, watching BBC's Master crafts and desperately wanting to become a weaver now!

On Wednesday Baby Fig and I drove down to London as she had her first University interview at Westminster Uni - at the Harrow Campus for Art - and even if she doesn't get a place I am incredibly proud of her.

We stopped with my Aunt and Uncle in Balham, and met up with another Aunt at Harrow who took us through Harrow on the Hill to lunch - I had never been there before - it is like a lovely village in the middle of the city, and obviously a 'money' area.


So, after dashing here and there, the only photo I ended up taking was of Baby Fig herself back at Balham station while we waited for the crowds to disperse before maneuvering her art portfolio back to the flat.

Guess who's been on match of the day?

As I no longer work Mondays (a stress busting move) I have taken to pottering about our nearest market town on that day. There are plenty of shops in our village, but they are all a bit posh, and way out of my budget! (well, except Spar...)
Clitheroe is a gorgeous little town, a bit behind the times usually (certainly in respect to opening times, still honoring half day closing, lunch time closures and shutting up completely on a Sunday) and it now has the obligatory Boots store and a WH Smiths, it still retains a whole load of independent retailers that are unique to the town and one of the largest concentration of charity shops in the country!

Above is a really bad photo of the Chocolate Box - it has been there forever! A tiny shop with gorgeous original dark wood cabinets and shelves full of sweets and chockies - ahhhh, heaven.
Mr Fig and I went all out extravagant and invested in a quarter each of cola cubes, pineapple chunks and sour apple cubes...how old are we????

Yesterday was my first day off with sunshine this week - and having only seen snowdrops from the car window for a while, and after seeing the lady farming them on last Sundays country file, I went to get some shots and have a closer look at these brief jewels!

The ones above were in the English Martyrs Church Yard, a sea of white!
And yes, I picked the one bellow from someones garden, it was behind a bush next to the fence, and I couldn't get close enough with the camera....well, that's my excuse! but isn't it lovely!!!!

And the ones bellow reminded us of lop eared Easter bunnies!

And then....Last night at The Grand in Clitheroe we went to see Frank Sidebottom and Charlie Chuck - what a night! Mr Fig and Baby fig had never seen them before, and Baby fig is the same age I was last time I saw him in 1989!

I honestly couldn't tell you what was funnier - Frank Sidebottom, the bloke behind who laughed like a drain all the way through or the two women in front who were utterly bemused by the whole evening and nearly fell of their chairs when Frank asked "Guess who's been on match of the day?" and the audience replied "you have, in your big shorts!"

Ahhh, the simplicity of northern humour....

A Cherry on The Top....or not!

After a morning in the pub knitting and nattering with Friends and neighbours what could be nicer than visiting the farmers market outside and coming home with Pigeon and Pea Pie and a Lemony cup cake from the gorgeous A Cherry on The Top stall?

well, a coffee, a knitting magazine, a WIP and a comfy armchair to finish it off- Ahhhh, Sundays!

What Manner of Men...

After visiting my 95 year old Grandmother at the weekend I have been trying to find a poem for her - She is a huge poetry lover, and has been all her life - she can quote poems learned at primary school better than she remembers the families names!

About 30 years or more ago, she heard a poem read out on the radio, and in that one reading memorised about 4 lines from it, but never knew the author or the name of the poem - and has no concept of the Internet.

It has taken some finding - and in the end I found only 1 link to it, and can still not find any information out about the poet - if I have the correct name!

so in the spirit of sharing, not only on my blog, but in case anyone else should ever look up the poem here is it...

WHAT MANNER OF MEN

The Devil at the table prepared to dine,
Said, where is Death,he is past his time,
He knows our rule that we dine at Ten,
As he merely went to make Cowards of men

Then a stir was heard outside the gate,
Soon Death limped in to his Hall of State,
With broken scythe, his beard awry,
And terror that had shone from fear limned eye,

And the Devil roared with all his might,
What happened thou art in such a plight?
Hard felt the weight of some heavy hand,
That thou in such mortal terror stand.

Thy orders, said Death, were but show my face,
And they'd blanch, these men of inferior race,
But they hurled me forth, with my neck nigh out,
To the Devil with Death, I heard them shout.

So what manner of Mortal can these be,
Said the Devil to make such sport of thee,
As the old man tenderly smoothed his hide,
They're the men of 'Arnhem' sire he cried.

But you'll make them fear us, the Devil roared,
Ere again you sit and sup at board,
Then I sup no more, old Death replied,
For as I left them, they laughed and died.

Harvey Haywood

The second Poem here was recited during an after dinner speech given by Critstiaan Barnard (who performed the first heart transplant) when he was touring New Zealand in the 60's. My Mum who lived there back then, cut the poem out of the news paper the day after the speech, and posted it back to my Grandma in Warrington - they had believed it was anonymous, but a far quicker search turned up the poem and the author...

A Bag of Tools

Isn't it strange how princes and kings,

and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,

and common people,

like you and me,are builders for eternity?
Each is given a list of rules;

a shapeless mass; a bag of tools.

And each must fashion, ere life is flown,

A stumbling block, or a Stepping-Stone.

J L Sharpe

fascinating phalanges...

Sometimes my brain makes connections I had never thought about before, and then I can't remember why the connection was made!

Recently it put a connection together that perplexes me -namely my inability to do certain tasks WITHOUT looking at my fingers.

I know it probably down to practice in some cases - Piano and guitar have never been mastered because I have to stop every time I change a chord to make sure my fingers are in the right place. Hand sewing and knitting - I have to watch every stitch or I do make mistakes, and therefore find it hard to sit and watch TV while doing either of these - I need to listen to the radio more - I even have to watch my fingers while typing, something I spend hours doing everyday at work and at home, there is nothing more annoying than typing away for 5 minutes only to look at the screen and there is nothing there!

I recently went to the local 'Bowland Guild of spinners, weavers and Dyers' meeting and was talking to a lovely lady, we were both knitting, me - only when I could look at my hands, but this lady never looked at her knitting once - in fact, I watched her knitting more than she did with a kind of slack jawed amazement!
It's a good job I don't have to look at them while changing gear in the car!

So - to finish the first of my Easter bunnies, I sat in bed until lunch time on Sunday and watched as my hands did the work, with no distractions!

Mr Fig (or Mr Juicy as he prefers) keeps mocking me for making 'cosies', a hat is a head cosy, a scarf is a neck cosy, I have made cup cosies and phone cosies - well, you get the idea - so I had to grab a photo of natures very own wall cosy while we were in the Trough of Bowland last weekend!

The sun has been shining today, here are some of Mr Figs Chili crop from last autumn that have been drying in the window all winter, and below some gorgeous candy coloured roses Mr Fig treated me to as a 'not valentines flowers' gift
He's the real sweetie!

Sweet Spring Sunday Sunshine

Today has been a gloriously sunny, quiet spring Sunday.

Knitting and nattering with friends and family, the farmers market, a table top sale in the village hall and tonight we are all out to the local Indian Restaurant to celebrate Mum and Dad Ruby wedding.

Here are some sunny images of my WIP - eventually it will be a blanket - only another 95 squares to knit!

and all in the finest alpaca wool, so it should be super luxurious when it is finally completed

And below is my other current WIP - from Noro sock wool, a pair of long arm mits for Fig Jr.

It isn't the nicest of textures, a little rough for socks, but the colour changes are so juicy!

Now, if only I could just get to the end of a project!

knit and natter time again

It seams like forever since our first Whalley knit and natter meeting - well, it was last November - and that is a different year!

So, tomorrow is our second meeting, the first of 2010 and hopefully there will be some new faces with the 'old' ones.

My darling niece Maisy comes along, she is learning to knit, is really keen, and our youngest knitter so far - I hope we get loads of younger members eventually - there is something quite special about sharing traditional craft skills with future generations who will hopefully keep these things alive and pass them on in time.

Marrakech

Mr Fig and myself have just returned from a 4 day Holiday in Marrakesh, Morocco - Our first 'get away from England' since our honeymoon almost 7 years ago.

I had booked this trip about 6 months ago on a whim while passing a travel agents as it was very cheap - and it was some where I had always really wanted to go.

Above is the Jemaa El Fna as the sun sets and the Souk hot's up for the evening's revelry

and below is Mr Fig trying not to look like a tourist in the Artisan area of the city. Thankfully he didn't purchase this outfit!

below is a shot in the Jardin Majorelle, a wonderful oasis of calm in the middle of a manic city - but only in winter - in summer it is as mad as the rest of the city, apparently.

I just love the colours used in an 'Ochre' country, and ended up spending most of my spending money on natural pigments like Indigo, Ochre, Saffron, Turquoise to dye fabrics, wools and paints back home.

The whole trip was to help us unwind and relax - this is not the city to do that in! the four days have been a whirl wind of persistent sellers and shop keepers trying to extract every last Dirham from us, crazy traffic, lovely people, hot days and cold nights, Hashish sellers, sickly scabby donkeys and cats, Arabic and French, steep kerbs, mosques, money money money...
I managed to find some peace and quiet in the form of a sunbed by the pool at the Hotel, and Elizabeth Gaskels 'Cranford' while Mr Fig went off on little adventures alone, looking for a nice restaurant for supper, or walking up hills for a view of the city.

The contrast of the ancient city on the silk route with a book about the gentility of a group of English ladies in the 1850's was perfect, the kept me sane, made me smile and even made me cry with happiness.

We have been back 2 days now - and my head is still spinning - I fell asleep last night dreaming about the lightly battered, melt in the mouth Squid we ate at the night market, with the smell of spices and wood smoke in the air.

we came back poorer (I am incapable of bartering) but wiser, and it an experience I will never forget.

So, here is the view from our hotel window as I lay having my afternoon repose!

Back to blighty, back to earth, back to work, thank god the snow had gone!

2010 - the year of living thriftily

The very last day of 2009 - and Mr Fig's 41st Birthday!

(He has just informed me he would rather be known as Mr Juicy...)

It has been another strange old year, but it has all ended quite well and left me feeling quite positive about the next 12 months.

One thing I am very possitive about is how much more thrifty I am going to have to be - money has never been so tight as it is now, and with the Figlett hopefully setting of for University in September, I am going to have to do some serious figure crunching!

My intention is to blog my thriftyness as well as my craftiness (hand in hand really!) but as with all resolutions we will just have to see how long it lasts.

Today I am going to be visiting Martin Lewis's web site and doing what I have put off for too long now - the financial breakdown, and I can tell you now the outgoings will be higher than the incomings.

Anyway - to anyone reading have a HAPPY NEW YEAR - and for Mr Juicy - HAPPY BIRTHDAY xxx

The goose is getting fat!

well, perhaps the goose is getting fat, but I don't think I will be getting the goose! As much as I would love to try Goose and feel it is a much more traditional dish to England than Turkey 1. I can't get my mother to get one for Christmas - she is terrified it will ruin the day! and 2. I can't afford to get one to try myself!

I have failed to photograph life for a while now - even for my photography class!

this is the time of year to make cosy fires though, wrap up warm in blankets and knitted socks, and keep busy with knitting and hand sewing.

here is a Poem I first read in Country Living magazine about 15 years ago, and immediately copied it down for reference ever since - although most fires we light seam to fill the house with smoke and require all the windows and doors open, and a liberal application of optrex to ones eyes!

Wisdom of the ages
Author: Cilia Congrave 1930

Beechwood fires are bright and clear If the logs are kept a year,

Chestnut's only good they say,If for logs 'tis laid away.

Make a fire of Elder tree,Death within your house will be;

But ash new or ash old,Is fit for a queen with crown of gold.

Birch and fir logs burn too fast Blaze up bright and do not last,

it is by the Irish said Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread.

Elm wood burns like churchyard mould,E'en the very flames are cold

But Ash green or Ash brown Is fit for a queen with golden crown.

Poplar gives a bitter smoke,Fills your eyes and makes you choke,

Apple wood will scent your room Pear wood smells like flowers in bloom

Oaken logs, if dry and old keep away the winter's cold

But Ash wet or Ash dry a king shall warm his slippers by.

Merry Christmas!