shapeshifting

It turned out to be a very lucky dip. Exactly what I needed. Score.

The rain here is a good thing. We miss the hot summer days that visited in May but here we are on a grey day with rain pouring down and it's a good thing. The south-east's farmers are operating under drought conditions and here in the west we've had the driest spring in a long time. Wind and rain are not friends to chickens but my little brood have lots of shelter in their henhouse and hedges, the greenhouse and, most often, in the porch by the front door where they sit and grumble for hours on end. Idgie has been broody for about two months, causing huge problems for the other girls but this morning she got out of bed of her own accord. Maybe she likes the cooler weather. Or it makes her nesting spot less attractive.

 

 

Forward motion

• I got three clear nights of good sleep and it made a huge difference. Years of sleep deprivation, never really recouped, take their toll and turn me into a bear in dire need of a hibernation cave. I need to pay more attention to this.
• We started making big glasses of fresh green juice in the morning and I swear an effect is instant. Obviously the big things change more slowly but my body felt as parched as our garden before this rain and soaked up the goodness with a sigh of relief and pleasure.
• There's an Anusara yoga studio in the town where I work and I went with a friend from the office to the first of five introductory lessons. Loved it. The teacher is wonderful; the studio is new, beautiful and rich in nag champa, chants and chai for all. I came away stretched, challenged and filled with an inner heat I haven't felt since I was attuned to Reiki. Channels were opened, dude.
• Friends did me proud this week and I drew great pleasure from realising just how many amazing women I know who are happy to pull me back up onto my feet when I'm in a crumbled heap even as they face their own struggles. I love you.
• Fabric-shopping for my sewing commission - felt pots - was fascinating and convinced me that in some cases, vintage and repurposing is by far the best option. Ack, the prices. Felt I'll buy new but for the rest I'll go with off-cuts sold in bundles and great material found in secondhand stores.
• Talking of which, as our little cottage home overflows with my finds I've decided to put my eye to good use and start an online vintage store. I could stock it twice over right now and as soon as I have some good photos, I will.
• Finally, in the shallow department, I dug out my old hair straighteners and put them to work. My growing-out hair had reached the stage where the only respectable option was a big woolly hat and it's June so that's a problem in itself. I love how straighteners can add an inch to your hair and make it look..er..better. At least when you have hair that is not straight, not wavy, not curly, just a bit warped in places with a tendency to develop 'mushroom head' (no, that's not me).

So. There. A hard week turned out well after all and I ticked boxes on five out of six of the Project Me boxes. And seeing as I signed at least three petitions I suppose I can half tick that last one too.

Okay next week, bring it on. But if you could be dry on Tuesday morning so I can work outside then that'd be awesome. Kthxbai.

x

 

 

 

 

 

This weekend was brought to us by potato printing and branch weaving. Evie wasn't feeling 100% but she managed to bake some Play-Doh and print with some potatoes. I'd hoped she'd do some making of patterns and be all inspired but she's so tired bless her. I ended up doing the carving while she painted and stamped and had way more fun doing the washing up before retiring to the sofa to crash out. The child needs some sleep.

I took an hour on my own to go exploring with the dogs. Right now we can actually climb through hedges and down into the streams in all sorts of places that you can't see for brambles and nettles later in the year. The sun came out and accompanied us into the water although it was still very cold. Nellie's paws must have been little furry blocks of ice (Jackson wisely stays on land - when your belly is that close to the ground you stay out of even shallow cold water).

On a mission for supplies, I brought home these branches to try my hand at weaving on them. I particularly love the smaller ones with the beautiful lichen but, as I wove happily away last night, watching the increasingly dark Being Human out of one eye, I found that most of that lichen ended up in my lap. This is how we learn.

It felt good to be making something. Once I've had a practice run I want to weave something beautiful for the wall. Just because.

x

I've been re-visiting my Lotta Jansdotter printing and sewing books and remembering why I love her work and style so much. Now I find she just started blogging. This makes me very happy.

Also, as my very short crop begins to grow out and every day is a struggle not to look like Rhys Ifans, I'm loving what she does with her hair. See? All round inspiration.

  

 

 

 

Quick. Not much time. Bath running. Stuff waiting. Here we go...

Unchocolating: it was filmed as a TV show by film and sound production degree students. V amusing and distracting. The closest I'll ever get to being on Oprah. I sat on the sofa in front of a huge table of chocolate goodies while the thoughts of 50 teenagers yelled,"Sad old woman who can't resist fattening food. Poor cow." Whatever.

Tessa, she was the therapist, waved a lot of Galaxy chocolate under my nose, we chatted and then she hypnotised me. It worked. I don't know how long it'll last but I have no desire for chocolate. It's not a strong, nauseous anti-chocolate thing. I just don't want it. The weird thing...the strongest feeling is that I don't want to touch it. She asked me to hold a bar of Galaxy and I couldn't. I was going to buy some for Charlie today but couldn't bring myself to pick any up. I hope it lasts.

I've been experimenting with spray varnish on the stones I painted. It's not really working. I think I'll have to brush clear varnish on to them but I'm scared it'll smudge. I've used acrylic paint on the pebbles. What can you experienced arts and crafts types advise?

I also played with carving stamps to brand the little bags I have for the stone sets. Don't like it. So I'm going with Plan A on that.

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'Sony Maroney Stick of Macaroni'

for Love Thursday

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Glove puppies. Oh yeah, they're back. I'm warming up my puppy muscles on a birthday present for Evie's best friend. She (the friend) is very fond of Jonesy, who goes to nursery with Evie three times a week, so hopefully it'll be a hit.

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The Threadgoodes are proving to be prolific layers.

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Casey Cat is 18 years old today. He celebrated by going in and out of the back door a lot, eating a lot and sleeping a lot. He rocks. He is immortal. I've lived with him longer than I've lived with any other being; human, feline, canine or otherwise. Happy birthday, Handsome. The guys just voted you in.

Paypal is not my friend.

Lisa is. Please support her if she can. She's wonderful, she's talented and she's doing this for all the right reasons.

Laters, taters.

The temperature has dropped again but I'm warming up for a fine weekend.

• Idgie and Ninny are coming home tomorrow. They may agree to a brief press conference.
• Today I bought many, many more pebbles. And varnish.
• We have Golden Rod to plant.
• I'll be thinking about this: "What isn't working in your life?" from a post at Pink Coyote and this: "Who would you be without your Story?" from a post at Your Courageous Life because I'm ready to do some more thinking and feeling around those things.
• I'm going to give a very sweet horse some reiki. If he feels like it.
• Charlie is going to continue to completely awesomise ((c) Susannah) his life and therefore, ours.
• I'm going to attempt to write myself a little manifesto.
• I'm volunteering, online, to do some exciting work with the wonderful Dogstar Foundation.
• I'll be watching the first episode of True Blood, Season 2.

Just add nachos and we're good.

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Fear, self-doubt, imposter syndrome, inadequacy…you know the sort of thing I’m talking about. The feelings that stop you – me – from following our intuition and our ideas. These feelings, I’ve decided, with some advice and prompting from literary wise women, are the life blood of our inner critic and in order to fight back I have to give him a face and name. <o:p></o:p>

<o:p></o:p>Knowledge is power and now that I know him I can whip out my wild woman superpowers and kick his arse.<o:p></o:p>

<o:p></o:p>He looks like this only more weasley.

His name is <st1:city w:st="on">Norman</st1:city> (apologies to any cool <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Normans</st1:place></st1:city> out there but me and your name have some history and it really works for me).<o:p></o:p>

<o:p></o:p>Frankly Norman, you’re a joke.<o:p></o:p>

<o:p></o:p>While I wasn’t changing the locks on old Normy this weekend I was busy thinking about how I could help myself, and maybe others, remember their wildness. These are what I came up with.<o:p></o:p>

<o:p> </o:p>They’re prototypes, unvarnished and unpackaged as yet, but they will be available before long. They’re <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Norman</st1:place></st1:city>’s kryptonite (although I don’t recall him ever looking good in a leotard and tights).

Happy Monday

x
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I just bought this:

And then I bought this:

And one of these,

and a roller and some lino blocks and some fabric paints. Guess what I'm going to be doing?

Oh and just for fun, I bought one of these each for me and Alisa:

There goes my disposable income until next month. But who knows, maybe I'll make some more. Hmmm.