Oh, the glamour...

Randomiser at Ketchup

2009-05-14T12:18:00.004Z

Last night we went to Ketchup, a gourmet burger place on Ashton lane with Cat and Squizz. A feature of their menu I particularly like is the 'Randomiser' where your waitress chooses for you, or as the menu says:

Put your future in the hands of our helpful and friendly staff. Choose the randomiser and receive the burger your server thinks would suit you best.

We were a bit scared of this option but Squizz decided to test our waitress to see if she would choose something he would like. She obviously knew her stuff because, after looking him up and down, she chose a burger with chicken and haggis, to which he immediately agreed. Nick looked envious for a second and then announced he wanted that too. Apparently it was delicious.

At this juncture, if I were Christian I would write this:

I had the ostrich burger (extra rare) and Nick had the scallop burger with caviar salad and the bill came to £637 including wine* which we all agreed was very reasonable and we would definitely frequent this restaurant in future.

*None of this is true. Actually I don't know how much the bill was because Squizz put it on his expense account. He's not an MP though, and he's the boss of his own company, so it's ok.

kitten improvement?

2009-05-12T16:24:00.002Z

I thought the kittens had grown out of pooing behind the sofas. Clearly not.

I decided to do a bit of quilting the other day and went into the front room to get my roll of wadding which I keep, yup, behind the sofa. I hasten to point out that the cats are not usually allowed in the 'good' room. The sofa they used to frequent was in the TV room, and the front room has generally remained a poo free zone.

Unfortunately when I grabbed the wadding I realised that it had been unrolled and scrumpled up. Inside the wadding was a nice poo, smeared over most of the wadding rendering it unusable.

I don't know how long it had been there. I feel violated. And annoyed - that was about £15 quids worth of fabric. I shall be taking it out of their pocket money.

hard day at the office

2009-05-11T13:25:00.004Z

Nick is 'working from home' today and has discovered what happens in our house when we are at work.

Not alot by the looks of things.

Boiling an Egg and making lemon curd

2009-05-07T17:24:00.007Z

Chris posed a question in his comment on the last post. To save you going to find it, here it is:

Out of interest, how do you boil your eggs? For some reason this is seen as the most basic thing you can do in the kitchen, but I have to say producing a perfect boiled egg every time is a tricky affair* and there's many different opinions on the subject. You shouldn't boil them, I know that much. My current method is to put them in a pan of cold water, heat it until the water reaches 85 degrees Celsius and then maintain it at that temperature for 6-7 minutes depending on the size of the egg. Getting the exact formula right is a tricky bugger, as is keeping the water at exactly 85 degrees. I'm going to try a formula whereby you heat the water to 90 and then completely take it off the heat, as I think that will be more reliable.

*By perfect I mean a firm, but not rubbery white, and a runny yolk.

Now, you should know that Chris is a bit of a foodie and knows his stuff when it comes to fannying around creating works of art in the kitchen. (check out his blog for some of his bizarre recipes.) However I'm surprised at the lengths that even Chris will go to to get the perfect boiled egg. Maintaining the water at exactly 85 degrees? surely that's just one step too far in the search for perfection.

I have to admit that my method is this: Boil water, lower egg in on spoon, time using egg timer, remove from water. My eggs are usually really delicious.

I'm wondering if the rubberiness could be something to do with the quality or the age of the raw egg? Not having purchased any eggs for over 3 years it would be interesting to compare our eggs with shop bought ones in a scientific taste test. The eggs I eat are never usually more than a week old, and if I was going to boil one then I'd use one laid that day. I use the older ones for cooking with. However eggs do keep really well, up to 4 weeks I'm told, and supermarket eggs can sometimes be knocking on a bit in age. We have developed a rotational system at home so we always know which order to eat the eggs in.

Having said all this I would doubt that Chris's problem is down to quality as he always buys the best he can.

If I am being honest I would always prefer a poached egg over a boiled egg anyway. And, like Chris, I am constantly searching for the perfect way to poach an egg. We have bought a number of 'poaching' devices, none of which seem to do the job any better than:

swirling the boiling water round in a vortex,
chucking in the egg,
putting on the toast,
taking the egg off the heat
leaving in the water until the toast is done (which is my preferred method of timing the whole process.)

With this method the eggs are not always perfect in appearance, even though they taste divine. The various poaching devices ensure an aesthetically pleasing egg, but increase the chance of rubberiness.

For my current favourite egg-busting recipe look no further than my delicious lemon curd. It is truly fabulous, and a lovely thing to make on a rainy weekend when you can stand and stir and stir and listen to a radio play.

put in a heavy based saucepan:

8 eggs
700gms sugar
200gms butter
juice and zest of 8 lemons

heat very gently stirring all the time for about half an hour, or until it has thickened into curd consistency. Do this very carefully and slowly. If you have the heat too high you will end up with sweet lemon scrambled eggs which might not be that tasty. Pour the finished lemon curd through a sieve and into jars which you have washed and have dried in a very hot oven to kill all beasties. I sterilise the lids by pouring boiling water on them. I don't know if this is the right way to do it but it seems to work for me and my curds and chutneys don't seem to go mouldy.

This recipe will make about 4 or 5 jars, and is amazing on toast, particularly toast made from tesco's walnut bread. Mmmmmmm.

written off

2009-05-06T12:46:00.002Z

Well, unfortunately my car has been deemed a total loss by the insurance company.

I expect the next step is for them to value it and tell me it was only worth £4.32 before I crashed it and quite frankly I should be grateful they are giving me any money at all.

The other irritating thing that I have learned (and let this be a warning to you) is that I would only be given a courtesy car if they were going to fix my car - not if it's written off. Apparently, their courtesy does not extend to people who have really buggered up, only to people who have mildly buggered up. If you want to ensure you have transport during the 3 or 4 weeks it takes for your money to come through you have to get an extra policy.

Luckily enough my boss has a spare car he is lending me in the interim. I know - who has a spare car lying about? Still, I am very grateful. I suspect he offered in a rash moment, then regretted it when remembering the reason I needed it in the first place, but by then I had accepted his offer!

Animal News

On the chicken front things are going very well. I had not collected the eggs for the past few days and when I went out this morning there were 19 eggs in the nest. So many in fact I had to fetch a bucket to put them all in.

Last weekend we were also having a bit of an egg glut. I managed to make inroads into our egg mountain by making a quiche, 2 pints of ice cream and 2 batches of lemon curd, but now I'm back to square one with more eggs than I know what to do with.

I'm not quite sure whats going on, especially with Omelet, our oldest hen, who is coming up to 4 years old this summer. She still lays about 5 eggs a week, which is very unusual. Custard, who is 3 this year also lays 4 or 5 a week. I can only attribute this continuing productivity to the happy life they have rootling around in the shrubs at the bottom of the garden.

Lucy, our escapee hen, is now confined back to the run after we clipped her wings last week. She had been going for a daily wander for the past month, taking a visit to our next door neighbour and the occasional sojourn onto the pristine bowling green. Since the start of the bowling season we thought it might we wise to stop these little trips of hers for the sake of neighbourly harmony.

The kittens (Macy and Morag) are now all grown up and thankfully have stopped pooing behind the sofa and weeing on the hall carpet. Instead they have taken to digging up worms and bringing them into the house to play with until the worms dry up and go all crispy. On the plus side they are a bit less terrified of us, and occasionally they let us stroke them. It's a long process but we will tame them in the end.

That's all for now folks x

Car Crash Miracle

2009-05-01T11:29:00.010Z

I'm very happy to be writing this. I have escaped death and walked away from rolling my car without a scratch on me. My car is totalled, but it saved my life and I'm very grateful to Renault. here's what happened:

I was driving along a bendy country road.

I lost it on the corner, and over steered, hitting the bank.

The car started spinning round and flipped over onto it's side. I remember the windows smashing and seeing the grassy bank flashing right by my head.

Next thing I remember is ending up back on my wheels in the middle of the road, in shock, with the man in the blue car phoning the ambulance and the police.

I'm very lucky and can't believe that I walked away from this with only a bruise on my neck and shoulder from where the seatbelt held me in my seat when I was upside down. It's very odd that I can't remember most of what happened, but I do have a very clear vision of the cubes of glass flying in front of me and the blurry grass bank whizzing past less than a foot away from my head, and thinking to myself: This is it. I wasn't scared at the thought of being dead, but it was enough to make be blank whatever happened next.

In some respects this is very comforting. I am not a religious person at all, and this experience has affirmed my belief that when you die, you just stop being, and there is nothing to be scared of. I am comforted that, with the very real prospect of being squashed to death, I didn't feel terrified, or regretful, or anything bad at all. I just thought 'this is it' and then my mind went blank.

Oh, and I will be buying another Modus, with it's 5 start Ncap safety rating, that's for sure.

Note to self

2009-04-27T12:23:00.002Z

Note to self:

Remember not to wear balconette bra and low cut top if planning on dancing exuberantly to 'The Only Way Is Up' at a disco, unless intentionally trying to display my assets to all on the dance floor.

Oh well, at least they'll remember me at that party.

It's like being at playschool

2009-04-24T12:24:00.003Z

Maybe I've had too much sun, or perhaps I'm still delirious at the prospect of being back at work, but we've decided that the design for our current Art Gallery project should be based on a tornado.

It was one of those off the cuff suggestions made in jest during a brainstorm that grew arms and legs. This morning I have spent 2 hours farting around with florists wire to create my marvellous swirling vortex. This afternoon I will photograph it in the garden then glue bits of corrugated cardboard, balsa wood and photos of smiling people from magazines onto the image.

I get paid for this too.

It's the Egyptian system

2009-04-22T12:49:00.004Z

I loved being in Egypt but I could never live there. The more time you spend there the more idiotically frustrating things happen to make you wish you were at home in Blightly where at least they don't spray human sewage on the lawns every morning.

Take this classic example of the 'Egyptian Factor' which occured on our last day.

Nick went to get ice creams. He was gone for over 10 mins. First he went to the ice cream display counter. There weren't any labels on the ice creams, and all the tubs had the lids on, so he had to call the barman over from the other side of the hotel lobby to tell him what flavours they had.

After Nick selected a chocolate cone for me and a strawberry cone for himself the barman had to walk back over to the bar to fetch the cones, which for some reason where not kept by the ice cream but by the cocktail-making equipment. Then he walked back to the ice cream counter to remove the tubs. Tubs in one hand and cones in the other he disappeared off into the kitchens in search of a scoop.

Time passed slowly, presumably as the kitchen staff searched for a suitable implement to dispense the ice cream. The bar man returned with the ice cream cones, and the tubs under one arm.

Nick gave the man a 50LE note for the 20LE cones. The barman didn't have any change. In fact he didn't actually seem to have a till. Nick refused to put the ice creams on the hotel bill, and so the barman had to hunt through his own pockets to find some change. When he didn't find enough he nipped along to the reception desk to ask the man there.

Nick by this point was feeling like he'd stepped into a sitcom and asked the barman why shop-keepers in Egypt never had any change, or even tills? Surely a till was a crucial piece of kit for an establishment that owed it's survival to the exchange of money in return for goods.

'I don't know,' shrugged the barman. 'It's the Egyptian System.'

I'm back, and I'm a Divemaster!

2009-04-21T20:00:00.024Z

I'm too pooped to tell you everything that's been going on, so here are some snaps to keep you entertained while I unpack and do 5 weeks worth of laundry:

Thistlegorm, 16th April 2009

puking but brown

2009-04-01T18:43:00.006Z

I brought a little bacterial visitor back from Cairo, in my guts, clamouring to get out. I didn't resist and settled into my hotel bathroom to get intimately aquainted with the toilet bowl.

2 days later I'm back and diving again. We have been with our first ever, real live students today, doing a 'discover scuba diving' course. This is a sort of try-dive thing where you spend an hour or two learning the basics and then we take you in the sea for a swim around to see if you like diving.

Luckily the guy I had to look after was not too bad. He shot to the surface a couple of times but generally got the hang of it pretty quickly. After a while he got a bit tetchy when I kept grabbing him to pull him down, but I'd rather that than see my first ever ward get the bends or ruptured lungs. That wouldn't bode well for my future in diving!

Maybe he was tetchy because, while helping him assemble his scuba kit, I said: 'Here - let me turn you on. no, actually it's better if you turn yourself on. erm...well, you know what I mean. Either way you've got to be able to breathe.'

Tan update. On the plus side I am now officially browner than I've ever been. On the minus side I have an unfortunate wet-suit tan line that makes it appear that I've spent a week lying on my front wearing cycling shorts and ankle socks like a german tourist. In reality I've spent a week wearing neoprene cyling shorts and ankle boots and swimming on my front, so maybe I deserve it.

Oh, the wisdom of the young

2009-04-01T18:24:00.002Z

Teenage girl: (looking out of the window of our minibus) Oh my god, look at that woman carrying a box on her head. She must think she is in africa or something.
Me: We are in africa.
Teenage Girl: Are we?

later that day...

Teenage girl: (in a sulk) I don't want to go to the mummy museum. I only came to Cairo to see the triangles.

Giza's famous triangles

2nd week in Egypt...

2009-03-29T14:57:00.011Z

The start of this week saw Nick and I hauling ourselves up and down the swimming pool at the Dive School, attempting to pass the divemaster timed swim tests. As it happens we did quite well, and our score was higher than we'd hoped. I suspect that John our instructor was surprised at my times. Lets just say I don't look like a finely honed althete at the best of times. This is the pool at the dive school:

We also had another exam this week on Supervising Student Divers. We both got 100% again. Either we are geniuses or the exams are a bit easy!

Along side all the training drills and dive theory lectures we had to deal with hotel problems, which has resulted in us moving to a different place. A bad combination of an internet hotel seller selling rooms they didn't have, coupled with a hotel that was overbooked anyway means we are now in a nicer hotel at a not such nice price.

On thursday we took a holiday from our holiday and went to Luxor, then Cairo, then Alexandria. Now I am totally exhausted but Wow, what an amzing 3 days. We did a whistlestop tour of the Valley of the kings, Karnak Temple (utterly staggering and my favourite place of the trip) Queen Hatshautsut's temple, The Pyramids and Sphinx, The Cairo museum (lots of Mummies and everything from Tutenkhamun's tomb)The Alexandria library and roman catacombs.

I could write for hours about what we saw but I'm in an internet cafe so time is limited. Here are a few snaps:

Valley of the kings. (no cameras allowed insdie the tombs)

Karnak temple (a tiny bit of it - it is MASSIVE, and 4000 years old.)

Nick at Karnak

The sphinx. After dark we went to the Pyramid Sound and Light show. James Bonds fans will know it from The spy who loved me. It was hilariously tacky but still cool.

Thats all for now folks. We have got 2 days of diving for fun coming up, and then we start back on the course on wednesday.

Note for Ed and Jon:

In the name of research for our new library in Edinburgh, I visited the amazing library in Alexandria for some ideas. What do you think? Should we include palm trees? It's on a slightly different scale admittedly. The ancient library was nearly totally destroyed, only 7 million scrolls and books remain from antiquity. This was just 10% of what was there originally!

Photos from our technical diving course

2009-03-21T17:38:00.006Z

Nick with his twin-set and wing on the dive boat.

This is Nick and John Kean, our instructor. John is a brilliant diver, an absolute perfectionist and is not giving us an easy ride. He has a slate which he writes on during dives if we cock up. We call it the slate of Dooooom. It's a bit like being on a permanent driving test and seeing the examiner draw a big cross on your sheet.

Here I am ready to jump in. When tec diving you have to have 2 of everything in case of an emergency. So I've got 3 regulators connected to 3 seperate air sources, 2 computers, 2 masks, etc. I wish I has 2 brains to remember where everything is!

First update from my Scubatical

2009-03-21T16:19:00.003Z

5 days in Sharm and the days are already flying. We have been so busy! We are here for 5 weeks to do our Divemsater course, which is the first step to becoming a professional diver.

We kicked off on the first morning with some technical diving tuition. We have learnt some pretty advanced dive theory which scrambled our brains and got us doing maths the likes of which I haven't done since I was 18. Then it was into the Red Sea with twin-set tanks and another tank slung at the side. This is not your normal recreational diving! The kit I'm wearing weighs over 50kg and I struggle to stand up.

Because we are on a course we had to carry out some pretty tough skills to test our reactions to kit failure and stress. The most difficult skills were the ones without wearing a mask. Your visibility is vitually nil and taking off all this equipment and putting it back, underwater, hovering at a constant depth and blind is no easy task. We both managed though, and it was a good confidence boost. Our instructor said to me afterwards: 'you have very good problem solving skills. Unfortunately you also have good problem creation skills'. I don't know what he could mean!

Tomorrow is the last day of our decommpression diving course and we will be going down to 45m for 22mins - the deepest dive we have ever done. The penalty for going so deep for so long is that we have to decompress for an hour afterwards, breathing 60% oxygen. (yum, I could get addicted!)

Just to dispell the myth that we are here on a jolly holiday I would like to confirm that we have been meeting John (our instructor) at 7.45 every morning and finishing up with theory sessions after 7.00pm. By then we are so knackered it's straight off for food and then sleep. I've been here for 5 days and not drunk a single G&T, so there's no way this is classed as a holiday!

Sharm is it's usual self, full of horn-tooting mad taxi drivers, persistant shop keepers and mosquitos. You should see the state of my legs after a night without repellant spray. Thankfully egyptian pharmacuticals seem much stronger than British equivalents (600mg ibruprofen!?!) and the antihistamines are sorting out the infernal itching.

Our hotel is great for a place that only costs £110 a week. This is lucky because the exchange rate is terrible for us brits at the moment. Last year Egypt was a cheap place to visit with 10LE to £1. Now it is just 7LE to £1 so our budget is much tighter than we hoped. Still, if things get tight our back up plan is to covertly make cheese sarnies at breakfast and smuggle them out to eat for tea. Pikey? most certainly.

Monday we start the divemaster properly with some skill circuits in the pool, and the dreaded swim tests. I'll let you know how we get on.

bye for now x

PS photos to come - just need to sort out my memory stick issues

Bad Taste Day

2009-03-13T13:36:00.013Z

I've been ill. Oh have I been ill. Properly shivering, aching, shitting, moaning and groaning ill.

Luckily I recovered enough just in time for Bad Taste day at work, in aid of Comic Relief. Due to my midweek bedridden status I didn't have much time to prepare. Instead I threw myself at the mercy of the ladies in the Cancer Research charity shop, telling them to find me the most horric outfit they could. Here are the snaps:

Ian, looking fabulous in shell suit bottoms, a ladies blouse and tanks top, disney tie and leopard skin hat. He's been wolf whistled on the street today. 3 times.

Martin, in full 80's ski gear. He is currently sitting at his computer, working in sallopettes and goggles. He's taken off the skis though because they were getting tangled in the cables.

Ed as 1970's cop. Can't really tell but that tie is a shocker. The main problem with Ed's outfit is that there are quite a few people who still dress like this. Not Ed though, no. Snappy dresser is Ed. Normally.

Fiona in bad jewellry and gas polo top. Her excuse for not wearing anything worse was that she has to go to the bank this afternoon for business purposes. Hmm. what a cop-out!

Jon is available for childrens parties on most Saturdays. He's not that good at balloon animals though, and tends to make small children cry.

Martin heading for the pistes of Linlithgow

Tracey, demure as ever and hoping for a big break in catalogue modelling if architecture deosn't work out.

we raised exactly £99 for Comic relief.

Dayroom yellow

2009-03-09T10:51:00.004Z

Last month there was a fierce debate in the office about whether or not I had blonde hair. I said yes. Jon was non-committal. Tracey said definitely yes. Ian said no, it was light brown, and used the Farrow and Ball paint chart to prove that my hair was the colour of ‘mouse's back'. What an outrage.

I was bearing this in mind on Saturday when discussing my imminent highlights with the hairdresser. ‘I want to be blonder for my holiday’ I said ‘How blonde? She asked. ‘Very’ I said. ‘And make sure it’s not yellowy – I want it more ashy.’

Oh how I wish I’d had the Farrow and Ball paint chart. ‘Pale Hound no71’ I could have replied with accuracy.

This morning I flounced into the office tossing my newly bleached to buggery hair like a wag on a catwalk. ‘You’ve gone blonde!’ said Jon. ‘No she hasn’t’ said Ian holding up his paint chart. ‘I’d say it was more Dayroom yellow’.

The very cheek of it. I had to retire to the bog to check.

Goddammit. I am dayroom yellow.

beware of eavesdropping

2009-03-05T14:13:00.001Z

I’ve got the builders in. (still) They have been doing my new bathroom, utility and bedroom for yonks. My colleague also used the same company to do some plastering yesterday. The plasterer didn’t realise we knew each other and had this conversation with Ian

Plasterer: I’ve been doing a job for a bird in Kirkintilloch
Ian: (realising it’s me he’s talking about) Oh yeah?
Plasterer: yeah – god man she lives in a fucking massive hoose. It’s fucking bonkers man.
Ian: Really?
Plasterer: She must be fucking minted man.
Ian: Oh right?
Plasterer: Fucking massive. And it’s full of diving shit everywhere man!

Contemplating my inevitable demise

2009-03-05T13:35:00.003Z

I came across a CD in my car this morning. It was of all the music I sang with my choir Sine Nomine at the Prestiegne Festival last August. I bunged it on and found myself inexplicably crying my eyes out – Not a good idea while driving at 50 miles an hour on country roads in the snow.

The culprit was the song Sleep by Eric Whitacre. We sang it alot last year and it always brought tears to my eyes then too. It is, in my humble opinion, one of the most perfect pieces of choral music ever written. It has everything: beautiful words, fabulous stomach crunching harmonies and a line that builds to the most heart wrenching climax. I am always amazed at the power of that song to give me physical pain in the guts.

Do yourself a favour: buy it and spend 6 minutes contemplating your own mortality. Oh, and if I die prematurely then I want Sine Nomine to sing this at my funeral. And you all have to cry.

It’s what I would have wanted.

PS I haven't actually listened to this youtube clip because I don't have speakers on my work computer - I hope it's actually the right piece of music!

Rules of CAD

2009-03-02T14:19:00.002Z

The no.1 Rule if you are working in my CAD drawings:

DO NOT EXPLODE MY HATCH PATTERNS

Rule No.2

DO NOT EXPLODE MY BLOCKS

Rule no.3

DO NOT BIND MY X-REFS

I seem to remember doing a post about this over 4 years ago. Sigh. Some things in architectural practice are universal and will never change.

I'm ringing to tell you I'm going to ring you later

2009-02-25T14:22:00.000Z

9.10 am – email from Client saying he will call at 10.00am to discuss the project.

10.00am – phone call from Client to say he will call back at 11.30 to discuss the project

11.30am – Client rings back to discuss project but Boss is held up in meeting.

12.00pm - Boss rings Client to discuss project but client doesn’t answer.

1.20pm – Client rings Boss to say he is a bit busy to discuss the project but will ring back at 2.30pm.

2.30pm – Client rings to say he needs to discuss project with wife before discussing it with boss.

4.40pm - Client rings Boss. They discuss the project.

5.00pm – Boss considers not taking on the project.

Knitting accident

2009-02-24T14:46:00.001Z

And I worry that I get unhealthily obsessed with crafts...

Divemaster Course

2009-02-23T12:31:00.004Z

So, after Christian’s comment last week, it struck me that maybe lots of you don’t know of our exciting plans for the spring! Oh you’re going to be so jealous!

Nick and I have wangled 5 weeks off work using a combination of annual holidays, working extra days, unpaid time, and begging. We are going to Eygpt to take our Divemaster course.

This is a 5 week internship and is the first step to being a professional scuba diver. We will be with an instructor for the month and will learn to assist on diving courses, guide groups of divers in the water, take groups out on boats, map dive sites, and loads more stuff. We are also doing some technical diving courses including decompression diving and advanced Nitrox, which will enable us to go deeper for longer.

It will be a busy time – pretty much 7 days a week working at the dive school or on the boats, but it’s a fantastic opportunity to dive every day. We should rack up another 40 or 50 dives while we are out there.

I’m also looking forward to helping on the beginners courses. I remember very clearly the Divemaster on my first course. I was quite nervous and kept freaking out and shooting to the surface every time I got a drop of water in my mask. The Divemaster was so kind and reassuring and always next to me. It’s sometimes hard to remember how scary diving was at first. I really hope I can make a difference to someone else when they are diving for the first time.

The next stage after the divemaster course is Instructor training, which we might do next year.

Yesterday we were diving in Loch Fyne again, just outside Invarary to see the annual dogfish spawning season. Dogfish are related to sharks – they look quite similar in shape but have dark spots and are oooh, yay long (that’s just under 2 feet) The brilliant thing about them is they don’t swim off when you get near them so you can get a really good look.

I am still getting used to Scottish diving, which is markedly more difficult than jumping into the warm waters of the red sea in a thin wetsuit. Kitting up in the rain in a car park in the highlands is hardly comparable to kitting up with a helpful crew on a dive boat floating on azure waters in 35 degree sunshine.

My new dry-suit is still getting the better of me on occasion, but I am impressed with it’s ability to keep me warm. So far I have done 4 dives wearing it and I’m just about in control. I thought it was snobbery, but I now know what divers mean when they say ‘you’re not a proper diver unless you dive in the UK’ Everything is harder: Lugging 16 kilos of lead down the beach, putting on neoprene gloves when your fingers are blue, and trying to swim while wearing a clothes over an inch thick, amongst other things.

It will seem like heaven when we get to Egypt. (which is 3 weeks today, just to rub it in a bit more)

Only 3 weeks to go

2009-02-20T12:24:00.001Z

Cupboard Love

2009-02-18T13:21:00.004Z

Me: hello my beautiful kittys!
Macy: Oh Christ.
Me: ooooh hello...how about a little cuddle for Mummy. (picks up kitten)
Macy: Look. I'll tolerate this 'cuddling' thing for a finite period because I know it's part of the food deal, but overstep the mark and the claws are out.
Me: There. That's not so bad is it?
Macy: Yeah, whatever. Anything doing on the food front?
Me: (puts kitten down) Good girls. tea time for good little kittens.
Macy: About time. By the way, I've done a shit in your slipper. I expect you'll find it later.

Piechart

2009-02-17T09:39:00.000Z

Cool idea

2009-02-13T16:09:00.000Z

Compliment or insult?

2009-02-13T13:44:00.001Z

Colleague: When you sing it reminds me of Gremlins.

is anywhere sacred these days?

2009-02-12T15:35:00.005Z

Nick needs contant stimulation. He can't abide being left to the mercy of his own thoughts for more than a few moments. If he is standing in a queue for 30 seconds he'll be playing backgammon on his i-phone. He likes to go to sleep with the radio on, and he absolutely has to have the newspaper everyday, even if he only has 10 minutes to read it.

Perhaps he needs one of these to ensure that his brain demons don't strike while sitting on the loo.

Jenny's first Quilt

2009-02-12T13:07:00.003Z

Last year I wrote complete instructions for how to make an easy and virtually free patchwork quilt on my other blog. I'm really pleased to report that Jenny has now finished her first quilt using the instructions. Here's the photo she has sent me:

The idea behind the quilt was to scrounge fabric sample books from curtain shops, which they often give away for free, and recycle the pieces to make a simple lap quilt.

I'm really impressed by Jenny's results - the quilting lines are nice and straight, and there aren't any wrinkles. The binding looks great too. I would give Jenny an A+

She says in her email that she is starting a new quilt soon. Can't wait to see the results!

Congratulations Chris and Liv!

2009-02-09T13:32:00.003Z

Some things in life fill me with a wonderful feeling of joy. One of those is hearing that 2 people who I have great affection for are getting married. Chris and Liv, I am so happy for you. You are made for each other.

On another note: Liv - emergency!!!! Got to get your dress sorted out pronto. It's THE most important thing about getting married. Sod the life long promise parlava - get the dress!!!!

PS. will Jimmy be the page boy?

Rescue Diver

2009-02-09T12:52:00.000Z

I had the first session of my Rescue Diver course on Saturday. I had got all confused about the dates, and it was only during a walk down to the take away on Friday night Nick reminded me that it was actually the next day and I had better read the manual because I would be having the exam.

Well, I got all panicked and stayed up late trying to revise. My slightly swotty tendencies from my schooldays resurfaced and I became all competitive. My main aim was to ensure I got a higher score than Nick.

Luckily (well, lets be frank, probably down to my sheer brilliance) I only got one question wrong in the whole exam which was the highest score in the class. God I even irritate myself.

Tonight is the first practical session in the pool. Because Nick is already qualified as a rescue diver he will be assisting on the course by pretending to be a drowning diver. I have made the stipulation that I don’t want to have to rescue my own husband, just in case the temptation to actually let him drown is too great.

The last taboo?

2009-02-06T15:38:00.004Z

A friend of mine is going for a colonoscopy next week. (That’s a camera up your bum in case you didn’t know)

We were wondering if the doctor would give him a picture of the inside of his colon, you know, like they do when you are pregnant and you get a little print-out of your baby in the womb. This raised another very interesting question:

Why is it not embarrassing to show people a picture of the insideof your colon, whereas I would never dream of showing my arse cheeks in public. Xrays of yourself between the neck and thighs are fine to display, but the skin is not. How very odd.

The biblical ideal is that we should cover ourselves with fig leaves to preserve modesty. Perhaps the 21st century adaptation of this would be lead underclothes? Rachel! for the last time of asking – put your bones away girl! Where is your modesty? And what will the neighbours think of you cavorting without your lead bodysuit on? You know they’ve just had new xray windows installed.

The following image should be censored.

The door to happiness: take delight in small things

2009-02-03T11:55:00.002Z

I am feeling particularly happy today because, for the first time since we moved into our house 18 months ago, we now have a door between the kitchen and the hall.

And oh! What a difference a door makes! My kitchen is warm. No icy drafts whistling through the house. And best of all - no kittens escaping into the hall and leaving pooey presents on the carpet.. We now have them contained in the utility room and kitchen where the floor is easily cleanable.

They are beautiful, but there are only so many times that big innocent green eyes can compensate for the inclination to poo behind the sofa.

This is Macy. Morag is virtually identical, but Macy has one ginger leg, which she is proudly showing off for you here.

Extreme Weather Event?

2009-02-02T12:09:00.004Z

News report on Radio 4 this morning:

John Humphreys: So, just how bad is it out there this morning?
Correspondent: Well John, I’m standing on the A38 and there is at least 2 inches of snow here this morning. The Met Office is calling this an ‘Extreme Weather Event’. I have to say that traffic is moving normally here at the moment, but I suspect this is due to surrounding roads being closed due to the heavy snow….

Radio 4 is normally such a sensible radio station.

The A38 this morning? Me thinks not.

Dentists.

2009-01-30T12:17:00.001Z

We currently have 5 dental surgery projects on the go, and for marketing purposes we have been contacting other local dentists to offer our services.

Ian: Is this a wind up?
Boss: What?
Ian: This - Dr Tooth. That can’t be his real name.
Boss: It is. He’s a real dentist. I guess his career choices were pretty limited with a name like that.
Ian: ...and what about this one: Phil MacCavity
Boss: Who put that on the list? Stop messing around and get on with your work.

Sunday Morning

2009-01-29T15:16:00.002Z

Sunday Morning, 9.30 am
'Darling, pop another log on the fire while I make the coffee and bring you some croissants. Oh and save me the colour supplement.' Ha Ha.

(yes, that really is snow on the mountains, and yes, we really did get up at 6.00am to go diving in Loch Fyne.)

Socks

2009-01-29T11:57:00.000Z

Me: Do you want to see the socks I am knitting? (proudly show my half finished sock.)
Colleague: Knitting? Socks aren’t knitted.
Me: Eh? Of course they are. How did you think socks are made? Admittedly most are knitted by machine with very fine yarn, but they are practically all, without exception, knitted.
Colleague: (shrugs) I just buy mine from a shop.
Me: where’s the fun in that?
Colleague: You’re mental.

Time Flies

2009-01-28T14:13:00.003Z

I thought I'd have a little blogging break and then Wham - it's nearly February.

So what has been happening in my glamorous life? Here's a run down.

Number of diets undertaken: 1
Pounds lost: 6
Pounds subsequently gained: 5

Number of scuba diving trips: 4
Water temperature in Belgium: 33 degrees
Water temp in Egypt: 28 degrees
Water temp in Scotland: 7 degrees and snow on the ground.
Money spent on new Scuba Kit: classified.
Diving courses booked: Rescue Diver and Divemaster.
Weeks in Egypt to become Divemaster: 5 (lucky meeeee)

New kittens adopted from Cats protection league: 2
Cat poos scraped off the cream carpet: in excess of 30
Days wishing we had not adopted the little shitty darlings: too many
Chickens attacked by a Fox: 2
Chickens escaped from the jaws of afore mentioned fox: 1

Knitting projects started: 9
Knitting projects completed: 6
Pairs of Knitting needles purchased:12

Apologies from Husband: 2 Big ones, 20 small ones
Apologies to Husband: 1 Big one, 6 small ones

Ultrasound scans: 2
General Anesthetics: 1
Local Anesthetics: 1
Tumours removed from face: 1 (benign)
chromosome tests: 2 (both normal)

Birthdays I forgot: 5
People I love dearly who's birthday I forgot: 5

attempts at riding on a tandem: 2
Wet my knickers: 1
Posts-it notes found on car saying 'Dickhead': 1
People laughing at something I was wearing: 3
number of wonderful sisters: 2
number of wonderful girlfriends with large phone bills: 3

And that's about it. Didn't miss much did you!

Gravity is postponed.

2008-06-06T10:06:00.002Z

Anyway, so I spent a happy 2 hours last night digging up weeds and spreading my hard earned manure over the flower beds. It’s remarkable who comes to chat to you when you spend time in the front garden, even when it’s pouring with rain.

First I chatted to a well-to-do elderly lady from over the road who, after introducing herself as Mrs Neighbour, ranted for ages about the lack of respect from youngsters these days and how she didn’t like being refered to by her Christian name by people she hardly new. I got the message loud and clear, and from now on will refer to her only as MRS neighbour in a deferential manner.

Then another lady who lives opposite came out in her mac especially to tell me about her dry rot.

Neighbour: Hello! You’re an Architect so I thought you might be interested in seeing the work I’m having done on my house.
Me: (thinking: no, not really, I’m trying to dig my garden) Oh yes! Have the dry rot men started? I’ve seen the vans.
Neighbour: well, he’s taken off all the plaster and has discovered it’s spread to another whole wall, as well as the floor and kitchen walls.
Me: Oh no!
N : He has knocked down the dining room wall.
Me: You should keep it like that – have it open plan.
N: oh no, he says that it a load bearing wall,
Me: So have you got it all propped up then?
N: no no, he said it would be ok
Me: But it’s load bearing? What’s holding up the house then?
N: Dunno. The man said it would only be for 2 weeks.
Me: Hmmm. I’m not sure that gravity will hold off for two weeks.
N: He said it will be ok. Anyway, it’s half down already. Do you want to come and have a look?
Me: Erm, I’m a bit muddy and wet at the moment
N: och it’s fine, come and see.

N: (to dry rot man wielding sledge hammer) Hello, this is my friend Rachel. She’s an Architect.
Dry Rot man: (looks alarmed) are you here to do an inspection?
Me: (Standing as far back as possible and looking though the doorway) oh no no no, I’m not here on a professional basis, just to have a quick nosey. I’m not coming inside.
Dry Rot man: (looking relieved) Oh right. (swings sledge hammer and more bricks come crashing down.)
Me: (backing away)

Horse Poo

2008-06-05T10:25:00.004Z

It's a constant battle to make sure the front of our house looks as nice as the rest on our leafy street. Our next door neighbour has a gardener. We have me. And sometimes Nick if I can persuade him that gardening really can be fun if you try.

To perk up the lack lustre borders in the front garden I decided to buy some bags of manure from B&Q to mulch around the plants. I was amazed at the price! £4 for a small 50l bag of old cow pats. I bought a bag and it barely mulched around 4 rose bushes.

Being the skin-flint I am I took matters in my own hands and called up a local riding stables to try and blag some manure at a slightly better price. ‘Of course!’ said the nice stable lady. ‘If you dig it out yourself you can have as much as you want’.

I admit, there was a moment when I nearly lost a welly through suction from the enormous dung heap that I wondered if perhaps £4 for a nice sterile bag from B&Q was the more sensible option. The foot hills of the heap (which was about the size of 2 tennis courts, and at least a high as a house) was like a bog, in both senses of the word. I gingerly stepped onto what looked like firm crusty ground and found myself sinking Indiana Jones style. I left that side of the heap in favour for the dryer yet nettle covered older section, where upon I got stung to death, but didn't run the risk of meeting an unpleasant end drowning in dung. What could be nicer than spending an hour digging on the world’s largest pile of horse poo on a sunny evening in June?

Despite the rather unpleasant nature of the task I am now the proud owner of 12 sacks of lovely crumbly rotted manure for the princely sum of £0. I was only going to get a few sacks, but once I was there, and had found the ideal digging spot I kept filling sacks thinking oh well, I've started so I may as well finish.

The son of the stable lady drove me over the fields to the dung heap, and helped me stack the sacks in my car boot so I gave him a fiver for his troubles. A small price to pay for what would have cost me the best part of £100 at B&Q.

Megaphones

2008-06-04T09:39:00.001Z

Me: oooh goodie, my megaphones have arrived!
Colleagues: Yes, they arrived yesterday.

I unpack my 2 new megaphones excitedly.

Me: **TESTING, TESTING** yup, those will do!
Colleagues: (nonchalantly continuing to work)
Me: It’s quite telling that 2 megaphones arrive in the post for me, and neither of you bat an eyelid.
Colleagues: Well, we are used to all manner of odd things arriving for you. Last month it was a felt hat shaper. The month before it was a box of assorted French coffee pots, and before that it was a vintage chandelier from Belgium.
Me: But aren’t you even slightly curious about why I need a pair of megaphones? One megaphone maybe, but 2?
Colleagues: Where your crackpot projects are concerned we’ve learned it’s generally safer not to enquire.

Good things come to those who blog.

2008-06-03T12:15:00.003Z

I never imagined when I started this blog how it could influence my life.

2 weeks ago I was asked to represent the UK along with 4 other British artists in an international textile festival in Antwerp. The exhibition is to demonstrate the best of contemporary quilt art across various European countries.

This was an amazing surprise and honour for me. In fact I still can’t quite believe that I was chosen! The lady who is organising the work to be exhibited had seen my Self Portrait quilt in the Scottish Quilt Championships last year. After I won an award for that quilt she called me to discuss my work. She was kind enough to say that she though it one of the most original pieces she'd seen that year in all of the shows she had visited, including the huge international show in the NEC in Birmingham.

It appears she has since been following my progress on my blog (Hi Fiona!) and asked if she could take this quilt to Antwerp.

Not bad for a girl who is making it up as she goes along!

Also on the exhibiting front I will be showing a number of my pieces in a local exhibition as part of the G66 festival later this month. The exhibition is called ’Our Creative Community’ and will be show all sorts of artwork from people who live around Kirkintilloch. It runs from 17th to 26th June in the College, Southbank Rd Campus, Kirkintilloch. I have no idea what the exhibition will be like because we have only lived in Kirky since last September, but in for a penny, in for a pound as they say!

Another bloggy initiated relationship has been with Lisa at Primrose Hill Interiors. She has worked incredibly hard recently to build her new studio and open her shop. I went along on Saturday to help out during her opening day. As far as I could tell it was an unqualified success, with scores of people turning up to browse around her shop, and have tea and cake in the marquee. At many points in the day we had a queue of 4 deep at the desk waiting to buy her gorgeous products. I had such a fun day playing at shop keepers, rearranging the shelves as the stock depleted, and hopefully helping out a fairly frazzled Lisa as much as possible.

If you live too far away from her studio to visit in person you can always buy online.

Lisa will be running all sorts of courses from her studio in the future. I will be teaching a weekend beginners patchwork class. Contact Lisa to put your name down and we will be in touch to organise the dates.

I will also be teaching an art quilting workshop at Purely Patchwork in Linlithgow based around designing your own quilts using freehand cutting and piecing techniques. Should be an interesting challenge for both me and the workshop students!

Chelsea Flower show.

2008-06-03T12:10:00.005Z

I was enjoying the Chelsea Flower show SO much that I kept forgetting to take photos! Here are a few anyway.

Now my expectations have been raised I just to work in my own garden a bit more...

Visit to the Queen's Corsetiers

2008-05-23T12:42:00.003Z

What a nice week I've had.

On Tuesday I flew down to London to meet up with Jane. We had planned to go to an exhibition on Fashion and Architecture but ended up sitting gossiping over lunch for hours instead. We did manage to fit in a visit to Rigby and Peller, Bra shop par excellence, and corsetiere to the Queen, no less. (She wasn't there buying bras on Tuesday dissapointingly. Now that would have been a good story)

Normally my bra shopping expeditions are not of any particular note, it has to be said, but a visit to Rigby and Peller is an experience every woman should treat themsemves to. The shop assistant measures you by eye. Esentially you stand in front of the mirror while the assistant looks at your boobs. Then she scurries off to a vast array of wooden drawers and pulls out a selection of bras in your size.

They say that 80% of women wear the wrong size and I was no exception. Apparently my back size was too big, (so it was riding up at the back) and my cup size was too small. The amazing thing was she took a quick look, and the bras she brought back for me fitted perfectly. Now that's a skill worth having!

Our conversation went something like this:

Lady: So, what are you looking for today?
Me: Erm. I need a new Bra... I suppose and normal everyday bra? nothing too fancy.
Lady: OK. Now what shape do you like?
Me: (Slightly embarrassed) Well... I like them to be like this (grab my boobs and push them together and upwards) I don't like it when they are wider than my body, you know, like Ann Widdicome.
Lady: (Smiling) Right, we call that Forward.
Me: Forward, yes, sounds good.

Lady brings back a selction of bras. Holds one out for me to put my arms through the straps. I grab the wires to hoik myself in.

Lady: No no, just lean forwards and let your breast fall into the cups gently.
Me: (Smirking)
Lady: I'm just going to adjust you now... (Sticks her hand inside the bra, hoists up my boobs and repositions the wires. My boobs are now defying gravity.)

I then try on a series of ever more fantastically supportive garments, each time being gently admonished by the assistant for not letting my breasts 'fall gently into the cups.'

In the end I bought a fiendishly expensive 'primadona' bra. I am wearing it today and feel totally at the mercy of it's sturdy straps and all encomapssing embrace. It's a nice feeling. And not one bit of boob is escaping Ann Widdicome style out to the side. Oh no - It's all forward and out there, like a pair of headlights on full beam.

Jane overheard the conversation in the next changing room, and it went like this:

Assistant: (in a gentle tone)You really should try wearing you breasts higher.
Customer: (after trying on the bra) My word! I've never seen my breats so high!

On Wednesday I went to the Chelsea Flower Show with my Mum (the actual purpose for my trip to London) But more about that another day, I have to get back to work.

Children's drawings recreated in photographs

2008-05-19T13:00:00.001Z

I love these. So surreal and wonderful.

Nick and Johnny Ball

2008-05-15T09:32:00.003Z

Nick has been working with Johnny Ball recently, and hired him to do some stuff up in Glasgow yesterday. Here is a nice snap of the pair of them at BBC Scotland. Childhood memories flooding back?

My life through scissors?

2008-04-24T10:04:00.004Z

This is my most recent piece. It followed directly from the green study below, which pleased me because I like the idea of making a series.

It’s about 1m x 1.2m. It was originally supposed to be orientated the other way but I decided it looked better like this, kind of like a sunset over the sea.

My disappointment is that it is very obvious to see the natural way my arm moves as I cut the fabric slices. You can definitely see the curve caused by my right-handedness, even though I was attempting to keep the cuts more or less parallel to the edges. During the cutting process I realised what was happening and rotated the fabric through180 degrees to try and counteract the curve effect, (see the right side below) but it just made it more obvious. The curving is the main reason that I turned the quilt round so the lines were horizontal – somehow it doesn’t look as bad.

After fretting about the right-handed bending I realised that I should try and embrace this human defect. After all, if I wanted everything straight then I could use a ruler! Surely the point about making art is that it is product of me, and only me. No-one else could replicate what I have made because no-one else will move their arm in exactly the same way I do. The quilt had become a permanent record of the way my body reacts to the fabric and scissors. The cut lines will be affected by my moods, my tensions, even my temperature!

I am working quite hard to try and find my artistic voice. I will be happy when people can look at my work and say ‘ oh yes I can tell Rachel made that.’ Slowly a voice is emerging I think, especially in the stuff I’ve made recently. What is especially weird is that I painted a huge painting about 5 years ago using palette knives, and I’ve realised that it looks very like this quilt in composition, so maybe my voice has always been there, just waiting to pop out!

Anyway, enough waffle. I am at work and should be designing a bowling alley, not writing rubbish about my arm reacting to fabric to create the sublime – what nonsense!

Small quilt studies

2008-04-23T12:01:00.002Z

One of the things we did a lot at the Nancy Crow workshop last year was create lots of small ‘sketches’ in fabric, to test out compositions and ideas. I had never done this before but it is definitely something that suits me.

Since then I have made quite a lot of smaller studies to try out new things. Many of these are frankly pants, but the odd one or two have turned out really well and I’ve gone onto finish them into completed pieces in their own right.

This one is about 60 cm x 40cm. I have been mainly designing using line since the workshop. This was a quilt where I tried to restrict myself colour-wise in order to concentrate on the composition of the lines and the actual construction.

Unfortunately it hasn’t photographed well at all. There are tons of slivers of fabric that make up what appears to be a slab of plain green, and then really dense quilting lines in lots of shades of green thread. I guess any quiltmaker will know that photographing such a tactile, 3 dimensional media is difficult, and trying to do so in artificial light with a shaky little camera is not the best way to go about it!

Thankfully the making of small studies has paid off, and this quilt has spawned 2 other much larger ones. I will show you one of these tomorrow. Anyway, I am quite attached to this little number. It is small and unassuming, and panders to my ongoing love affair with the colour green.

Floating block quilts

2008-04-22T08:57:00.007Z

Ok, so here is a piece I made about a year ago, but only finished quilting it over the Christmas holidays. I was having issues with the time it was taking, and put out a plea for help, which was answered in this post. Well, I finally completed it!

You can probably tell it’s similar to the other floating block designs I was doing last year, like this one:

And this one.

I also made an enormous king sized bed quilt along this theme, but I sold it before taking a photo which was a bit silly. It was lovely, with purples, dusky pinks and muted oranges, and a tiny window of japanese cherry blosson fabric in the centre of each block. Reading that combination it sounds gross, but it wasn't. It was to be a wedding present for someone - I hope there is lots of action going on under it!

All these quilts use the same principle – a square with border down 2 sides which is then rotated to form interesting relationships with the neighbouring block. Of the 3 quilts I’ve made using this idea I like the Japanese one best because the fabrics are so beautiful, and the lines are all wonky. The blue and orange one has really nice dense quilting lines all over it which is the way I’ve quilted all my pieces in the last year.

New quilts to show and tell

2008-04-21T21:02:00.009Z

Hi y'all! I thought I'd return from my little holiday absence with news of my latest artistic exploits for your delectation. It's been ages since I posted any new quilts, but that's not to say I haven't been making them. No Sir-ee, I just haven't been photographing them!

This quilt is based on a doodle I made during a long work phone call. By the end of the conversation I had covered a whole sheet in these little patterns with black stops-ends top and bottom. Sometimes I think there is an obvious architectural influence in the pattern, and other times it looks very organic to me, like fish bones, or leaf skeletons.

I really love geometrical patterns (which is probably why I was drawn to quilt making in the first place) but I also love to cut my fabric freehand - never using a ruler - in order to make a break from the rigidity that would spoil this very simple design. Cutting and sewing fabric pieces with curves takes much much longer than straight edged pieces, but it's worth it.

I am pleased with this quilt. It's quiet and restful and simple. (and possibly a little more green than the picture shows.)

2008-04-03T10:53:00.001Z

2008-04-02T12:00:00.000Z

I hate Bikini Shopping

2008-04-01T09:54:00.002Z

But it's all done by computers nowadays, isn't it?

2008-03-31T10:34:00.001Z

Just so you know, I don't work harder because you complain

2008-03-27T12:09:00.003Z

Dawning Realisation

2008-03-26T11:13:00.001Z

2 weeks to lose some weight before going on holiday

2008-03-25T13:12:00.004Z

There's a moose loose aboot this hoose

2008-03-16T09:17:00.002Z

Nick: Oh my god!!! there's a mouse!
Me: where? oh god!
Nick: quick - get the cat!

Nick runs to get the cat who is sleeping on the boiler. Puts confused cat down in front of terrified mouse

Nick: There, maggie - get the mouse - go on!
Cat: huh? what? (spots mouse) AARRRGH!!! (runs away in opposite direction, fur bristling)
Nick: Maggie! get the mouse.
Cat: ok ok, hang on, I'm a bit rusty atthis mousing business. (creeps nervously towards mouse) You see I've got the hunter's body stance, but I'm just lacking the killer instinct.... AARRRGH! I've seen it! It's a huge mouse!

(mouse runs along edge of wall and disappears through a hole between the skirting board and new fire place.)

Cat: Right you, furry vermin. I've got the measure of you now. Just you wait. Your mousy days are numbered pal. Check out these teeth. Yeah thats right - hide in your little hidey hole.... Hmm hang on, did you go down the hole? maybe you are under this armchair. (crawls under the chair) nope. Maybe round here? nope. Under this rug? Where are you? Oh arsecheeks. Lost you. I'll just lie down in front of the fire here in case you come out later........zzzzzzzzzz

Nick: Free board and lodging and this is what we get in return? (Turns to me) Mouse trap?

Me: Yeah.

Swimming Poo

2008-03-11T11:07:00.001Z

We ventured out the house this weekend to try the new local swimming pool. We should have known it would be a bad idea to go at 3.00pm on a rainy Sunday afternoon, but we braved the hoards of kids anyway and set about swimming up and down.

At the end of the second length Nick had turned around to talk to me and I suddenly spotted a poo – bobbing cheekily in the water between us. After a quick shriek and some synchronised-swimming-type backwards skulling we swan over to the attendant to inform him of the offending article.

He raised his eyes to heaven and wandered up to the deep end wielding a net on a stick. He scooped out the poo. Then he stood looking into the water frowning. By this point all swimmers were studiously avoiding that quadrant of the pool. Then he went off and came back with a huge colander on a stick and fished about again. More frowning. Next he came back armed with the big guns, a 4 foot long implement a bit like a brush that both removes small particles of floating debris from the surface and scrubs down the grills and filters at the edge of the pool. A suited supervisor was brought in to inspect the water.

We swam up and down a few more times at the other side of the pool with our mouths clamped firmly shut, then got out. It might be a while until we go back for another swim.

excuse not to wash my hair

2008-03-06T13:14:00.002Z

I read in the New Scientist that if you have greasy hair the levels of ozone around your head are higher which is beneficial. At last an excuse to stay in bed an extra 10 minutes!

sometimes I want to squeeze her sooooo hard...

2008-03-04T13:53:00.003Z

Timber!

2008-03-04T13:44:00.008Z

Milo re-named Cedric the Centipede

2008-02-28T12:17:00.008Z

I unequivocally defer to your superior knowledge of the natural world, Jane and Jane, and thank you for correcting me with regards to the Milo/Cedric millipede/centipede muddle.

For those of you as uneducated as me when it comes to these many-legged beasts, here are some facts.

Millipedes:

Millipedes have two pairs of legs per segment (except for the first segment behind the head which does not have any appendages at all, and the next few which only have one pair of legs). Each segment that has two pairs of legs is a result of two single segments fused together as one.

Millipedes are slow moving because they have so many little stumpy legs.

Most millipedes eat decaying leaves and other dead plant matter, moisturising the food with secretions and then scraping it in with the jaws.

There are around 10,000 species!

The giant African millipede is the largest species of millipede and can grow to 28cm. Urgh. Would definitely not want THAT crawling round my bathtub

Centipedes

Centipedes have one pair of legs per body segment.

They have a pair of poison claws formed from a modified first appendage. This also means that centipedes are exclusively predatory which is uncommon.

Centipedes require a moist micro-habitat due to their rapid rates of water loss. This is why Milo liked it in my bath.

The bite of a typical centipede can be very painful for humans, similar to that of a wasp sting and can usually be treated with an antihistamine if no infection develops. Some tropical centipedes can be more dangerous, however.

Centipedes have a fossil record dating back 420 million years to the late Silurian

Centipede mating does not involve copulation. Males deposit a spermatophore for the female to take up. Some males undertake a courtship dance to encourage the female to engulf his sperm. In other cases, the males just leave them for the females to find. I’m hoping Milo didn’t leave any in my bath for me to find.

The Amazonian giant centipede, is the largest existing species of centipede in the world, reaching over 30 cm in length. It is known to eat bats, catching them in midflight, as well as rodents and spiders.

The prehistoric Euphoberia was the largest known centipede, growing up to one metre in length.

Thank you Jane and wikipedia for these amazing facts.

Nosey neighbour or neighbourhood watch?

2008-02-26T16:28:00.001Z

Neighbour: (round for a cup of tea) Have you been away Nick?
Nick: erm, when?
Neighbour: Last Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night.
Nick: Yes, I was!
Neighbour: Thought so.
Nick: how did you know?
Neighbour: I noticed your car was gone. Normally both your cars are gone by 8.00am and back by 7.00pm, except for Fridays when Rachel’s car is normally in the drive. I saw that your car was gone for 3 week nights in a row and wondered where you had gone.
Nick: (a bit freaked out) errr yes. I was away for work
Me: Did you think we’d had a row and Nick has left me?
Neighbour: (laughs) I’m not nosey or anything, I just like to check that everything is in order and I notice when the routine is disrupted.
Cat: (bites neighbour really hard on the wrist.)
Me: (smirks) Maggie! Don’t bite the neighbours!

Milo the Millipede

2008-02-26T11:26:00.002Z

Sorry for the lack of posts. I’ve been busy, mainly making curtains and trying to make our sitting room habitable again.

I’ve decided I don’t like making curtains. They are just too big and my weedy arms hurt after lugging 10 meters of heavy fabric around. I chose to make them rather than buy ready made curtains because a) I wanted thermally lined super heavy warm things, b) I wanted them extra long (3.2m) draping on the floor, c) I wanted a particular fabric in a particular colour and d) I am tight.

Ready made curtains are great if the shop happens to have the exact fabric you want, and you have nice modern standard sized windows and a warm house so don’t need them interlined.

Anyway, tonight I will have attached the hooks and can hang them up. I hope and pray after all the effort they look ok and hang nicely. At the moment they are draped down the stairwell and look a bit shit.

On a totally different note, we have had a little visitor in our bath for over a week. This is Milo the Millipede in his prime.

He came up the plug hole and despite being washed down again on numerous occasions he would reappear the next day, prancing around and around the bath like he was on parade.

I named him and would check every evening to see if he was still there. Nick said this was disgusting and swore to kill him. His chosen method of insecticide was bleach, which he claimed was the nearest deadly weapon he spotted. He doused poor Milo with pine fresh Demestos and swilled him down the plug hole.

The next day Milo was back as usual, marching around the bath on his daily rounds. This time Nick covered Milo in bleach and left him there, trapped in a viscous chemical torture chamber of surface tension to suffer an appalling death. I was horrified to see Milo’s little legs contorted and millipede juice leaking out of him.

I have now got over this scene of murderous carnage and am looking forward to a nice hot bath in a millipede free bathroom.

Scary Swans

2008-02-19T13:19:00.002Z

Arriving at my car after work the other day I felt like I was in a horror movie. 4 huge swans were loitering with intent next to the driver’s door. I climbed in the car from the passenger side and revved the engine to try and get them to move out of the way.

Far from being scared they were actually encouraged by my presence and began to harass me, staring at me from close quarters with beady eyes, pecking at the window and generally freaking me out.

My rational brain was telling me they only behave like this because people feed them from their car windows, but my overactive imagination was bestowing evil motives upon these enormous birds. I was expecting more to waddle up from the loch side until I was totally surrounded by these massive and eerily silent beasts. Not content with meagre breadcrumbs they would beat me to the ground by flapping their vast wings, and peck the flesh off my bones.

Eventually I decided I couldn’t sit in the car park all night so reversed slowly out, attempting to avoid yellow webbed feet, and drove home with all flesh in tact.

Quick Quilting

2008-02-18T13:29:00.006Z

A couple of weekends ago I spent a really nice day with Lisa in Glasgow, fabric and trimmings shopping.

After spending an hour and a half in VV Rouleux it became clear that Lisa’s current love affair with all things red and white, and her love of the country cottage aesthetic was starting to rub off on me too. I went home and had the burning desire to make a red and white patchwork quilt for Lisa, using one of the most traditional patchwork patterns, the log cabin.

Generally I go to great lengths to design my own quilts, and I’ve never actually made a traditional log cabin quilt before, but Lisa’s description of her country cottage inspired me to rootle through my growing fabric stash and plan this quilt. (click picture for closer look.)

I wanted to use a red and white gingham as the main fabric but as I added more fabrics the gingham didn’t look right anymore, so it got put back in the cupboard for another day. I loved the combination of fabrics here, most of which I got from this company.

The main achievement for me was the speed at which I made it. The combination of using a design I didn’t need to agonise over, nice straight seams, (normally I hand cut wavy lines which is very time consuming to piece together) and repetitive chain piecing meant that I finished the top in about 7 hours and had it quilted and bound in another 5 hours. I think that’s my record!

Immodium-schmodium

2008-02-14T12:32:00.000Z

I’m increasingly bemused by the rash of laxative adverts that are appearing on the telly. The new breed of ad usually features a group of concerned looking attractive women, sitting around, apparently chatting about their ‘uncomfortable stools’.

Why would you take a pill to make your stools more comfortable? Who are these weedy delicate women who can’t cope with the odd scratchy poo? What’s wrong with eating some good ol’ bran flakes for brekkie? That’ll get things moving!

Flick to another channel and you’re immediately faced with another pair of attractive women flouncing happily down the street, tossing their shiny hair because they’ve taken a different pill to stop their newly liquid yet comfortable stools from escaping unannounced. Maybe the idea is that, if you get the timing right, you can avoid the necessity of ever having to use a toilet other than your own at home. It would be a delicate balancing act between the laxative and the bunger-upper drug, but it could be done.

Romance is dead

2008-02-12T12:45:00.001Z

Nick: Darling, do you want to do anything special on valentines day?
Me: (giving Nick a hug) No, not really, it’s fine.
Nick: Oh good, do you mind if I go to the pub with the lads then?

Equality

2008-02-11T13:59:00.000Z

I am all for equality, I really am, but sometimes common sense surely must take precedence?

We have a client who is being forced to install 2 disabled toilets into their building. 'Quite right too' I hear you say. Normally I would agree, but in this instance it is pure lunacy.

Our clients run a training facility for employees of a certain dangerous industry that requires their personnel to climb up really very high structures attached only by ropes, and to carry out physically demanding strenuous engineering tasks dangling in mid air 200ft above the ocean. Surprisingly they don’t train many wheelchair bound people.

The whole issue of discrimination has been in the news a lot recently, mainly in relation to women in the workplace earning less than men, and debates over whether businesses should employ women in the first place when everyone knows that all we want to do is rush to pop out sprogs and costs everyone else time and money.

That dreadful woman Katie Hopkins from the Apprentice was on the radio going on about how women in general were a terrible proposition, unless they were like her, childless, ruthless, ambitious and prepared to put work before anything else.

Listening to her espousing her theories that put back women's equality 20 years, I got annoyed but then I felt sorry for her. Yeah yeah, she earns a big fat 6 figure salary, but what a hard, joyless and exploited person she sounded.

I agree that there should be equal pay for equal work, without a doubt, and that suitably qualified people of either sex, with a disability or not should have an equal opportunity to get the same work. However, I will not claim discrimination because my clients aren’t training wheelchair bound people to abseil in gale force winds. It’s political correctness gone mad.

Accidentally escaping flatulence

2008-02-07T10:32:00.000Z

The dreaded horror! It happened to me yesterday. I was in a meeting with a client and a Contractor and for some reason we were sitting on the floor. The big drawings were spread all about and we were on our hands and knees discussing them.

As I rearranged my limbs and manoeuvred myself into a sitting position a fart accidentally escaped with a small neat ‘parp’

At the precise moment of the renegade trump my client was mid sentence, so hopefully she didn’t hear. Also at the critial point the builders outside turned on the digger so I’m hoping my traitorous fart was mistaken for the rumble of the machinery.

After the intial shock of hoping no-one heard there is then the 10 second delay during which you wrack your brains to remember what you ate for tea last night, and the probability of the fart turning poisonous. What an interminable 10 seconds it was too.

Thankfully (and unusually, as my family and spouse will vouch) it was totally odourless.

I think I got away with it.

Moral of the story.
Do not conduct business meetings on your hands and knees. That is the position the medical profession recommend for the easiest passage of trapped wind, and the NHS have saved £millions by using this method instead of drugs to treat the problem in elderly patients.

Glasgow Gallery of Modern Art

2008-02-06T14:48:00.000Z

We braved the snow and took Eleanor and Alex for a day trip to Glasgow for shopping and a look round the Gallery of Modern Art. Activities like this must be done in short bursts because Nick get 'Museum Fatigue' very quickly. His time limit is usually around 35-40 mins, potentially stretching to 45-50 if bribed with the promise of a coffee in the cafe at the end.

Despite the countdown element we had a nice time. There was loads of fabulous lino prints in the current exhibition. Unfortunately I can't remember the artists name. The knitted cacti are part of the permanent collection.

Launch of Greenlaces

2008-02-06T13:31:00.000Z

My sister and I are very similar yet amazingly different too. Our similarities lie in our eccentricities, our ability to find joy in small things, our passion for the things that interest us, and our need to eat regulary or risk going vacant.

Eleanor is a fantastic cook, and also amazing at living well on a tight budget. She never bats an eylid if 15 people turn up unannounced, feeding them magnificently as if she had been preparing it all morning.

I like to think that I have similar talents when it comes to making stuff, and a similar passion for turning something ordinary into something better, and having fun along the way.

I thought that Eleanor and I should write a book based on our passions, a book based around a shared goal of living cheaply and living sustainably. Many of the concepts we both employ are green and cheap, such as recyling stuff in new ways, or making the effort to go out to find free food like elderberries or wild garlic.

Our book would be full of ideas for 21st century home life, including recipes, food tips and ideas, crafts and decorating ideas, all falling under the umbrella of living green and living cheap.

We discussed this idea and in the end decided to tackle the project in installments. And what better way than to make our installments available as we go along. Hmm... sounds a bit like a blog!

And so our new blog Greenlaces was born. It is less than a week old, but check it out here. We are just warming up, so check back in a while!

warm at last!

2008-01-30T09:54:00.000Z

This is our lovely new log burning stove, which was installed in the back sitting room on Monday. We are delighted with how it looks, but can’t light it until Thursday because the new plastering has to dry properly first.

The new stove has prompted another bout of feverish decorating. I wish I’d taken a photo of the spectacularly horrible 70's slatted ceiling that adorned the sitting room. The original ceiling and cornice was painted black and then timber slats were hanging about 2 feet below it. What were they thinking? When we pulled it down yesterday there was a layer of dust on the top about a centimetre thick. Urgh.

Anyway, we set about chopping it all up to make firewood and have created 3 huge crates of the stuff. If you ever find yourself making firewood, here is a little tongue twister you can practice to pass the time:

How much wood
can a wood chuck cut
If a wood chuck
could cut wood

We have also stripped all the hideous wallpaper off. Tonight I intend to polyfiller holes and Nick is going to attempt some carpentry and make a thing for the TV and accompanying hardware. (All of which seems to be reproducing at an alarming rate. You can’t just have a DVD player now, you need a digital TV box, a Wii, and Xbox, a PVR etc etc) After that we can say good bye to black ceilings!

Bunker and scuttle

2008-01-28T13:34:00.001Z

I suspect that I will only ever need to buy a coal bunker and scuttle once in my life.

Today is the day.

This is what I've bought. There is something wonderful about the word 'scuttle'. I'm glad I will now be able to include it into my daily vocabulary on a more regular basis; 'Darling, I would really like a scuttle for my birthday' and so on.

Speaking of birthdays, I was 31 the other day. I woke up with a bad back, which says it all really.

wierd double standards?

2008-01-25T15:02:00.000Z

'Plans for Europe's biggest on-shore wind farm in the Western Isles may be turned down after the Scottish Government express concerns at the potential damage to the environment'

??????

Oh well, instead of using renewable energy we'll just have to burn more oil, and make more radio active waste, won't we. What makes more damage to the environment? A belching power station or a load of wind turbines? I'm confused.

artistic collaboration

2008-01-25T13:42:00.001Z

I am quite friendly with Esther, who owns the quilting shop in Linlithgow, Purely Patchwork. It's a lovely shop and I'd recommend a visit - it's like a huge paint box of colours with fabric from the floor to ceiling.

Esther also designs and puts together quilt kits for the shop. The kits include all the fabric you would need for a particular quilt, plus the instructions. Esther makes up a sample quilt of each kit so customers can see what they will end up with.

Last night we had a fun evening of chatting and quilting up her sample quilts ready for display. She had worked really hard and finished 4 quilt tops in preparation. Very magnanimously Esther said I could work on which ever one I fancied, and that I could quilt it in whatever pattern I liked. I thought this was cool because I would never let anyone else quilt one of my pieces without micro-managing every line they sewed!

It was great to work on a quilt which was made by someone else. It focused my mind really well, and curbed my sloppy habits. It was a bit like doing the washing up at someone else's house - much more interesting than doing it at your own sink.

It got me to thinking about collaborating on projects more. Esther said that she would never have quilted it in the way I did, and I imagine if I gave her one of mine to do it would end up so totally different and potentially more exiting.

Anyway, I managed to speed my way through it (New sewing machine performing magnificently) and let's hope the finished sample encourages lots of sales of the kit!

close encounter with quilt-based industrial accident

2008-01-24T17:09:00.000Z

Last night I finished another quilt. I was in such a frenzy that I didn’t notice I was about to be trapped in the quiltmakers equivalent of getting your tie trapped in the office shedder. I was merrily sewing and noticed my head mysteriously being pulled nearer and nearer to the machine. It took a moment to realise that I had trapped the tassles of my scarf (which I have to wear in the house because it’s ****ing freezing) under the quilt and was sewing them in by accident.

Luckily, unlike a shredder, the sewing machine is easily stopped and scarf removed from round my neck, thus avoiding a nasty quilt-based industrial accident.

Such an incident would certainly make an interesting entry into the health and safety accident log book:

Nature of accident / injury:
Puncture wounds to face due to dangerously close scarf tassels getting caught in fast moving sewing machinery.

Action taken/treatment given:
Took foot off footpedal / removed quilt that was sewn to nostrils

intellectual post about literature

2008-01-23T13:34:00.000Z

Has anyone read 'Everything is Illuminated' by Jonathan Safran Foer?

I finished it last week and it has been playing on my mind ever since. I loved it, but it also worried me. I have a nagging suspicion that I missed the point, and was hoping someone would be able to tell me exactly what the point was.

I was totally sucked into the bizzare dreamlike village and it's almost cartoon-like inhabitants but was constantly concerned about where the line between reality and imagination of the main characters lay. I was also fretting about the seemingly semi autobiographical nature of the story, with the author placing himself as one of the main characters - a writer who was telling the story of searching in his family history.

But mainly I was worried that I missed the entire connection between Jonathan and his Ukranian translater and their families. Was there a connection? Did I drop off at the crucial revelation stage?

I think I will have to read it again in a month or so. If you haven't read it I would recommend it, it's a highly unusual piece of fiction.

lar-di-dar - get me! I could be on BBC Radio 4. (Apart from the bit where I might have missed the crux of the whole book.)

New Chickens!

2008-01-21T11:05:00.000Z

Thanks to Jane over at Snapdragons garden we now have 3 lovely new hens!

A friend of Jane's was selling some of their one year old hens so we bought 2 black rocks and a buff araucana. They are called Gerry, Gerry and Custard. This is because we can't tell the twins apart, and Custard is sort of custard coloured.

We were delighted that our old hen Omelet didn't try and murder the new hens. There was much flapping and squawking as they squared up to one another, but not really any vicious pecking as can sometimes occur. Omelet is definitely head of the new pecking order at the moment.

We were even more delighted that within 18 hours of arriving 2 of the new hens had laid us an egg! Custard laid the most amazing green egg, and one of the Gerrys laid a quite pointy tinted egg. Both were poached and eaten on toast for tea last night. Yummy!

(By the way, we couldn't get the Leghorn hens we had planned because they are dead. The chicken man called me to say that he had an infection in his flock and the pullets had died. It's a hard and precarious life being a chicken.)

Slippers cause postal foot trauma

2008-01-20T09:14:00.000Z

Call me heartless, but I did laugh a little when I heard that our neighbour broke his toe last month when he was posting a Christmas card through our letterbox. He had undertaken the task wearing his slippers and stubbed his toe on the step.

2008-01-17T13:41:00.001Z

Low pain threshold

2008-01-16T13:32:00.001Z

I seem to have an extremely low pain threshold. The slightest hint of an ache or pain sends me scampering for my bed clutching a hot water bottle and demanding tea and sympathy.

There is, apparently, a scientific test to measure pain thresholds. They put your thumb in thumb-screw device and measure the pressure they can apply before you can’t bear any more. They are allowed to do this because the men are wearing white coats and are in a laboratory. If they are wearing balaclavas and are in a dungeon it would be called torture, and this is NOT generally acceptable – don’t be fooled.

Nick and I have attempted to recreate this experiment at home because he really can’t believe how much little things hurt me, like being whipped across the arse with a tea towel during washing-up disagreements.

The thumb squeezing experiment, far from being conclusive proof of pain thresholds only serves to highlight our inequalities in strength. He presses down on my thumb until I shriek, and then pronounces that he was barely squeezing at all. I press down on his as hard as I can, using both hands, and he doesn’t flinch. This does NOT mean that I am a wimp. It merely concludes that he is stronger than me, doesn’t get period pains, and is more adept with a tea towel whip.

Mystery Christmas Card

2008-01-14T15:11:00.000Z

Today we received a very late and very mysterious Christmas card. It was from Mike and Deb. We have no idea who this is.

The message inside says ‘Hope you are well. Let’s just say we hope that 2008 keeps us out of NHS hospitals rather more than in the past few months.’

What a cheery Christmas sentiment!

Interesting Phenomenon no.11

2008-01-12T11:14:00.000Z

Largely inaccurate, unsubstantiated yet long held childhood beliefs - we all have them I'm sure. I was musing on this as, standing at a safe distance, I brewed my porridge in the microwave.

I do this because, as a child, I was told by my mother that if I peered into the window at the rotating food, my brain would be cooked by escaping microwaves. As an adult I still feel a stab of guilt when I press my face to the glass to check if my hot chocolate is overflowing like a miniature volcano. I look, then pull back, just in case my Mother was right after all.

Do you have any childhood beliefs you know are silly but can't quite shake off?

To contemplate my other interesting phenomena, click here.

Battery hens

2008-01-10T16:55:00.000Z

Do you buy cheap eggs? Shame on you.

A while ago I wrote to Hellman's Mayonnaise asking if they were planning to change the eggs in their mayo to free range, instead of using factory farmed eggs. They replied promptly, but excused themselves by saying that they require so many thousands of eggs that there are not enough free range farmers to supply them. This is an absolutely appalling excuse. If Hellman's said to their suppliers 'This time next year we don't want battery eggs, we want free range' the farmers would fall over themselves to change their methods.

It's very worrying to think of all the 'hidden' battery eggs we consume with out realising, and every egg hidden inside a ready-made cake means a days work for one poor hen in her A4 sized cage.

I have been harping on about this for ages, so it's nice to see Jamie Oliver is following my lead ;-)

Hurrah!! New Chickens!!!!!

2008-01-10T14:10:00.000Z

It's all arranged! We are going over to Fife to get three new hens a week on Saturday!

I phoned the guy who hathced our last lot and he's going to give us 3 more Brown Leghorns. This is great. Of the 3 breeds we had previously the Leghorn laid by far the most eggs. She was also Nick's favourite hen, so I've no doubt he will be delighted that we'll have 3 new Scrambles in our little flock. Scramble 3, Scramble 4 and Scramble 5!

What happened to Scramble 1? Read about it Here and about her miraculous recovery here

What Happened to Scramble 2? Read Here

Help me to find new chickens

2008-01-10T10:16:00.001Z

Do any of you chicken keepers know someone in the Glasgow/central belt area who could supply us with some new birds? Poor Omelet, our last remaining cream legbar hen, is all on her own and seems a bit lonely. She is shy to run to us without her sisters for support, even when we are shaking the corn tin, and the bad weather has made her spend the last week sitting inside her house looking utterly dejected.

Now we have moved house the guy we got our last 3 from is along drive away. It's do-able, but I would prefer the chickens not to have a 2 hours car journey if possible.

We are not too fussy about the breeds we get but would really like to get more brown leghorns if possible, and perhaps a hyrid for egg production duties. We have also considered getting some rescues battery hens but I have no idea where to get them from in Scotland. All the battery hen resuce places on the internet are way down south.

Any ideas?

(my email is info@rachelsimons.co.uk)

Jane's belated Birthday Quilt

2008-01-09T11:15:00.000Z

Thank god for that. I have finished Jane’s birthday quilt. Only 9 months late. This is it:

I’m quite shy about showing this to you. I have had mixed feelings towards this one throughout it’s creation, which accounts for the huge amount of time it’s taken for me to complete it.

Now it’s done I like it. I chose the colours to go with Jane’s living room, which has white walls with a deep red chimney breast, sandy coloured sofas and wooden floors.

I think that maybe there are too many colours, and it would have been better (and quieter) if I had restricted the palette somewhat. Still, I have told Jane she can fold it inside out and sit on it if she has a hangover and the stripes get a bit much. She assures me she likes it, but I really hope that she isn’t just saying that because I made it rather than bought it. Always a dilemma when faced with a hand made gift! She can always keep it under the stairs and drag it out whenever I visit.

I have just to sew on the binding and post it and my obligation will be complete!

Maggie is on a diet.

2008-01-08T10:05:00.000Z

Poor Maggie. The vet told me she is too fat. Friends have been telling me this for ages, but I have always preferred to think of her as super fluffy instead of super lardy. Besides, Maggie is me in feline form: loves her food, loves sleeping and would avoid going out if at all possible.

In an attempt to give her the correct amount of food I have weighed out the biscuits and put each day’s meagre ration (60 grams) in a little bag. She gets half the bag in the morning, and half in the evening.

Since doing this I have realised just how much I was over feeding her. Her breakfast looks so pitiful. Maggie is not impressed. She wolfs down the food, and then follows me around complaining as I’m trying to get ready for work. If I ignore her she runs down to find Nick and complains to him. The noise is horrendous.

I’m hoping she soon gets used to her reduced portions sizes. In a way I’m quite envious. How easy it would be to lose weight if someone forcibly removed half of your food intake per day, and you had no choice in the matter!

Office discussions

2008-01-07T13:11:00.000Z

Ahh, how nice to be back at work. I forgot how much I enjoy our interesting office discussions. This morning’s topics have included:

Morbidly obese women who’s boobs are so heavy that they crush their lungs when they lie down, and have to be supported by a crane. (Apparently on a documentary last night.)

Committing suicide using oven cleaner and it’s long term effects if you fail. (not good)

What is the point of Christmas cake?

A serious debate on whether or not shutting the toilet seat before flushing stops a cloud of noxious germs billowing into the air, and even if you do shut the lid, can the spray come out the gaps at the sides? Should toilets be airtight?

Did Ian actually suffer from the Winter Vomiting Virus currently spreading throughout the UK, and if so, should we be breathing in the same room as him?

When does etiquette dictate that you stop saying ‘happy new year’ to people when you first see them after 1st January?

The knock on effects of pruning roses, merging seamlessly with…

The pros and cons of nosey neighbours.

It’s nice to be gently eased back into work after a 2 week break!

Party Stress

2008-01-07T13:06:00.000Z

Christmas and New Year were great this year. We had lots of family staying. We also had a Christmas party to warm our new house, literally as well as figuratively. Having 30 people round is an interesting way to raise the temperature of a cold house to normal room temperature, but not one I intend to repeat on a regular basis.

Nick and I have had quite a few parties in the past but for some reason this one really stressed me out. We had invited quite a few of our new neighbours, and all afternoon people were phoning saying sorry but they couldn’t make it for one reason or another. By 7 pm I was certain that no-one was going to turn up at all. So convinced was I that I put away most of the wine glasses I had set out, in case the few people that did come realised how unpopular I am.

In the event I needn’t have worried. The natural curiosity of people prevailed and loads turned up to have a good poke around the house. The huge vat of mulled wine I made was soon all gone, and so were the 4 huge lasagnes I made. I think it was success, but I didn’t really enjoy myself much.

Luckily for new year's eve we could relax and let Chris and Liv have the party stresses. They threw a really great party with the customary firework and sparklers at midnight. This year’s firework was called ‘The tower of Piza’ and was definitely far superior than others that were set off from the top of Crookes in Sheffield this year.

Quilting-wise I’ve had a sudden burst of the finishing bug. The holidays have given me the time to finally complete the quilting on Jane’s Birthday Quilt. I know, I know, it’s 9 months late, but you can’t rush works of art. Jane said she didn’t mind as long as it was finished before she was 31. Just the binding to do and I can post it off with a clear conscience!

I’ve also completed another quilt I’ve had on the go for months and made good inroads into the quilting on my huge bulls-eye quilt I pieced in America. Clearing out those Unfinished Objects (UFOs) from my UFO box is really cathartic and definitely a nice feeling for the new year.

Happy Christmas

2007-12-25T08:44:00.000Z

Just writing this while waiting for my smoked salmon. Have a lovely restful day x

Clever and Ugly, or Stupid and Beautiful?

2007-12-20T15:06:00.000Z

Would you rather be clever and ugly, or thick and beautiful?

Personally I would much rather be thick and beautiful. I know what it’s like to be clever and ugly, and frankly it’s not all it’s cracked up to. I’m clever enough to realise the wider implications of my ugliness, clever enough to have an understanding of the messed up world around me, and clever enough to philosophise internally until I’m depressed.

If I was thick then I would be able to live my life in happy ignorance. I’d be too stupid to understand why it would be advantageous to be clever. I’d be so beautiful that I’d look in the mirror and like what I saw, and so go through life happy with my image. As a result I’d be super confident and so probably achieve lots in life.

What would you rather be?

You remind me of a dog

2007-12-19T16:47:00.000Z

My colleague Ian is having a tough time with one of the builders on his site. Today they had the following conversation.

Builder: You remind me of a dog I used to have.
Ian: oh yeah? Why?
Builder: Always on at me, never leaving me alone, worry worry worry worry
Ian: I see. And what happened to the dog? Have you still got it?
Builder: I shot it.
Ian: Oh.

Thought for the day

2007-12-19T09:42:00.000Z

Would you trust a hairdresser who habitually wears a floppy crocheted woolly hat?

When I made the appointment she was wearing the hat. I assumed she was having a bad hair day or it was a fashion statement. But since then, as I walk past the salon, I have come to realise she wears this hat every single day.

What is under the hat? A hairdressing faux pas? A disastrous dye job? A cutting catastrophe? Should I be concerned?

Missing carrot

2007-12-18T10:59:00.000Z

As discussed yesterday, I embarked apon my Christmas pudding preparations last night. I made a special trip to Sainsbury's and bought the ingredients, and went home ready to roll up my sleeves and get stuck in.

Half way through the mixing and grating process I realised I had forgotten the carrot so I had to go out again to buy one. I felt a bit of a nincompoop at the checkout, handing over 13p for my single root vegetable. The checkout girl must have wondered what strange detox diet I was attempting.

The rest of the pudding making process went without a hitch except I could only fit in 4 hours of steaming. I will put them on again tonight for another 3 or 4 hours.

Nick admitted that he once went to safeways to buy a nubbin of root ginger. He didn't want a whole root so he snapped off a knobette, weighed it, and it came to 1p. That's all he bought.

Recipe for Christmas Pudding

2007-12-17T10:58:00.000Z

My granny was an excellent cook of the old fashioned English kind. She made dishes like Lancashire lamb chops with peas, amazing Yorkshire puddings, perfect shepherd pies (her recipe for this is here) and all manner of traditional English puddings, many involving large amounts of suet.

I don’t have many regrets in life but one of my biggest is that I never wrote down all my granny’s recipes before she died. I used to spend hours in her kitchen as a child, helping to shell fresh peas, or whisking up pudding batter. I know a few of her recipes, but most of the food she prepared seemed to materialise magically, and I never learned exactly how.

She died suddenly when I was 21 on my graduation day. I think if I had been older I would have appreciated what she knew much more, and made an effort to record her recipes.

Luckily I do have the recipe for one of her most famous family puddings: ‘Granny’s Christmas pudding, there’s no flour in it you know.’

Every Christmas dinner, as we were all tucking into this most delicious of British Puddings, my Granny would wave her knife at us and pronounce ‘Mmmmm. Do you know what makes this pudding so light? There’s no flour in it you know. Just breadcrumbs.’ And every year we would humour her and pretend that she didn’t tell us this nugget of information every year, without fail.

Having said this I can confirm that her Christmas pudding was the best I’ve ever tasted. It was actually really light, and shop bought puddings I’ve had since have been so heavy and disgusting in comparison, and full of hard lumpy bits of peel.

The Christmas after Gran had died we found a pudding in the cupboard that she had made the previous year, and I swear it was the best ever. We all savoured the delicious light texture, waved our knives and asked each other ‘Did we know why it was so light? No? tell me why! Because there’s no flour in it you know!’

I made my first pudding last year. It wasn’t quite right because I didn’t make it early enough, and I didn’t have a steamer big enough to fit my pudding basin in, but it was a pretty near approximation. This year I have left it far too late, and will be making my pudding tonight. This is a slight disaster – the concoction has to steam for 7 hours, so I will be setting my alarm for 2 in the morning to go and turn it off. It is also supposed to mature in the larder for a couple of months. A week will have to suffice.

Last year I made 3 puddings, and saved one for this year. Unfortunately I threw it out in September when we moved house in a fit of de-cluttering. How silly of me. A Christmas pudding matured for a year would be a pudding fit for the Queen.

So lucky you, I’ve decided to share this secret family recipe. Only because I know you’ll never make it. And that’s your loss, because it truly is the best pudding you’ll ever taste.

½ ld Breadcrumbs
½ lb currants
½ lb rasins
½ lb sugar
½ lb suet ( I use vegetarian suet)
Large grated carrot
Large grated apple
5 eggs

(NO FLOUR you know, that’s why it’s so light)

Mix all the ingredients together and divide into 3 pudding basins. Cover with muslin or foil and tie around the rim of the basin. Gather up the skirt of the muslin and tie on the top. Steam for 7 hours. Leave to mature. Steam for an hour before serving. Tip out of the pudding basin. Douse liberally in brandy or rum, turn out lights in dining room and set on fire to huge whoops of joy. Apply brandy sauce or butter and tuck in. Don’t forget to wave your knife!

A good day in my new studio

2007-12-15T23:05:00.000Z

My studio is finally finished and fully functioning. Yesterday we put up the final bit of furniture: a fabric storage unit with cutting table on top. (that's the Royal 'We'. Nick built it. I stood and watched helplessly, handing him wooden dowels periodically and offering snippets of advice.)

Getting this lovely big surface to cut on has meant that at last I could work on my huge piece that was started in Ohio. It is 7 ft square. I've worked all day and managed to get the whole quilt top pieced together ready for assembling and quilting.

On the whole I am happy with it. There are a few sections that aren't quite right. It could have done with further work by cutting into it more and adding more circle fragments, but frankly I am just pleased to have got this far. It is by far the most complicated piece I have ever made, both in compositional terms and in the construction. Sewing curves and keeping it all flat ain't as easy as it looks!

When I had finished the bulls eye quilt top I decided to have an experiment to see what I could come up with. After 2 hours of happy play with acrylic paint, string and a roller I ended up with this:

It's very different to what I usually make and I'm quite intrigued by the possibilities. I like the idea of painting a regular(ish) grid and then cutting it up and restructuring it to make everything slip.