‘If elephants didn’t exist, you couldn’t invent one.’*

You may recall, if you’ve been paying attention and haven’t completely tuned out during my current and ongoing blogging ‘dry spell’, that I’ve been turning my attention to tapestry of late – easy tapestry, just right for relaxing on the sofa and forgetting everything else. Hoorah for such pastimes! You may even have been wondering how it’s been coming along. Well, I’ll show you:

I know, I'm a tease. Not a single whole elephant in sight. But aren't the colours lovely?

I know, I’m a tease. Not a single whole elephant in sight. But aren’t the colours lovely?

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‘Too much of anything is bad…’

‘… but too much Champagne is just right.’ If you know who said that without using a search engine or any other kind of reference material such as, dare I suggest it, a book – and without jumping to the end of this post, excitedly alert as you will undoubtedly be to the possibility of the solution indicated by the strategically-positioned asterisk – then you get a million squillion points.

Speaking of clues, here’s one about a recent creation of mine:

If you've been reading my posts in the last few months, few and far between as they've been, you should be able to guess this one.

If you’ve been reading my posts in the last few months, few and far between as they’ve been, you should be able to guess this one.

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Bloomsbury, elephants and ice cream


Choice is a good thing, they say, and I agree. But then, they also say it’s possible to have too much of a good thing, and I think there are times when there might be something in this. Unless we’re talking about love, compassion, understanding… little things like that. Or ice cream. You can NEVER have too much ice cream, even in January, outside, when it’s raining. And who the heck are ‘they’, anyway? Continue reading

Bottoms up… hic!

So, 1 December was our 8th anniversary – 8 years since we went on our first date to what was then a charmingly weird Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park (and which has since become, as we discovered on our 5th anniversary to our distinct dismay, a ghoulish game of Santa-related sardines), got lost in the rain and ended up in a romantic clinch at a bus stop.

We are very good about anniversaries in this house but we are very good without overdoing it, which I like. OK, so we did treat ourselves to an afternoon tea at Bertram’s Brown’s, later rolling back home stuffed to the brim with deliciousness. And we exchanged cards. Oh yes, and I made this for Mark:

If you can guess what this is from this picture, you get a squillion points (unless you already know because I've told you all about it before!).

If you can guess what this is from this picture, you get a squillion points (unless you already know because I’ve told you all about it before!).

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Hats for cats!

Bet you wondered where I’d disappeared to, didn’t you? Well, I’m not surprised. I was starting to wonder exactly that myself… Unbelievably, it’s been more or less two whole months since my last confession post. In the circumstances, the fact that I actually remembered my password to get in and write this is a minor miracle. So I guess I now need to make it worthwhile. How’s this for a start?

Don't try this at home. These hats are heavy!

Don’t try this at home. These hats are heavy!

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Charity chapeaux

Just as I was embarking on my little crafting haitus – having found myself, though I hate to admit it, a teeny bit crafted out and, more to the point, in grave need of a holiday generally – I was asked if there was anything I could do to help prepare for a local charity’s Christmas Fair. I really am very tired indeed at the moment, and so I confess that my heart did sink slightly at this point. But then, this wasn’t just any local charity, this was North London’s Animal Aid & Advice – the charity through which we found the Feline Detectives. Plus McCready and Gilmour – the aforementioned sneaky sleuths – were about to celebrate their second birthday. Plus I’m really, really bad at saying no. So I went online and ordered myself some yarn:

Four of the seven colours I went for: Dusty Turquoise, Beet, Italian Plum and Charcoal. Looking rather lighter and brighter here than they do in real life.

Four of the seven colours I went for: Dusty Turquoise, Beet, Italian Plum and Charcoal. Looking rather lighter and brighter here than they do in real life.

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Goal!

Long time, no blog! But you know what? The crafting hiatus has actually done me good. It’s not that I haven’t done anything crafty at all while I’ve been offline, but it’s been good to sit back, breathe, consider my creations made and in the making, and smile a little. Not least because… YES, you guessed it… I’ve finished my Homeric fussball table makeover project at long, long last. E voilà:

The first goal of the season has finally been well and truly scored!

The first goal of the season has finally been well and truly scored!

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Up with the mindfulness, down with the anxiety

I’m going through a period of (quite a lot of) earnest reflection at the moment – and the extent to which I really need to change some of my thinking patterns is becoming increasingly and abundantly clear. I’ve been aware of this for a long time, actually, but in recent months it’s come into some fairly sharp relief. Which is a little bit scary and unsettling. On the other hand, awareness, understanding and willingness to give change a go are good things and important first steps, so hoorah for those!

Randomly inserted photo, just for the hell of it.

Randomly inserted photo, just for the hell of it.

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The Venerable Bead

It’s starting to dawn on me that I can’t do everything at once. Or is it? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. But there are so many things I want to do, dammit, and where on earth is all the time going anyway? OK, so procrastination is the thief of time and I have been very tired of late, it’s true – so perhaps not quite as gung ho as I’d like to be – but I haven’t really been procrastinating that badly. Which more or less rules procrastination out as a suspect. And, even if it didn’t, surely procrastination was locked up long ago for previous offences. So where is all the time disappearing off to?*

Yes, I know, what am I going on about (you see, the currently-in-limbo fussball table has addled my poor brain)? Well, this, if you must know:

Beady temptation.

Beady temptation.

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