year ending

I used to hate this time of year - November blues would descend and it just seemed like a time of year when everything turned grey and brown and lifeless and soggy. But here in the SW of England it's a pretty magical time, actually... full of bonfire smoke and cosy nights in (has to be when it gets dark at 4:30 in the afternoon now) and pub dinners.

Partner and I went away for the weekend for our anniversary.

Here. And it was a full moon on Saturday night, so we took a little walk out onto the sand as the tide had ebbed away, and it was pretty amazing. There are times when I have to pinch myself.

And I'm knitting - like a fiend. It's just the time of year, and the fact that my PhD chapters aren't rolling forth with the ferocity I wish. So a few knit-and-purl stitches of sanity make me feel productive. Coping mechanism.

This was a 2nd birthday gift for Penelope, lovely lemon hoodie jumper. The buttons are my favourite bit.

And now it's socks. I'm on my fifth pair in two months. (Of course, when you knit them with chunky wool, it goes a lot faster. You can call it cheating, I'll agree.)

Bonfire season

It's been a long time, and that's okay.

The leaves are all scruffy and scritchy underfoot, and I walked by a sign today that said 'wellbeloved', which might be the best word in the world.

Bonfire smudging in the air, tonight I got all the phone calls to tick off my to-do list, finally, and I've had smoked salmon with cream cheese on garlic toast with asparagus & toasted almonds in butter sauce and tortellini in spicy tomato chili sauce for a luxurious tea - all alone - as the bebe fell asleep in her chair at 6:30 and the partner is out at the cinema. Gorgeous lovely alone time - just me and the West Wing and good food and some good knitting.

Am finishing a lemony yellowy jumper for a friend's daughter's 2nd birthday next week, and it's just the right time of year to be knitting and it's all gone well so far.

So that's me.

To the autumn.

in which we bake

Regaining my life -

Today we went to Brixham, and walked the Breakwater mile, in support of the RNLI. Which my partner loves, because as he cynically reminds me regularly,

They could save his life one day.

So we walked. It was windy, and the sea was turquoise blue, and Fi fell asleep in the car, but woke up in the wind and kept shouting 'wheeeee!' the whole way back.

And the RNLI, bless them, gave us a free box of tea. So we came out on top... feeling good about ourselves AND up a box a tea. Wicked.

But then we had a (yetanother) fight about who changes the nappy, which was followed by [spare the awkward details] debate and now he's asleep, and we're baking because that's sometimes all you can do when the world needs putting to rights.

Rhubarb crumble.

and homemade enchiladas.

Turning 30.

This Saturday, I am 30. I am beyond excited. Very ready.

We will be at the beach, if it doesn't rain. Then bbq here, into the evening.

Here's what I know.

I like myself with smile lines around my mouth.

I'm looking forward to my first grey hair.

I'm a fuller, wholer and more complete person now than I have ever been.

Welcome 30, bring on the wisdom. I'm ready.

Errant Blogging

I am sporadic (that's a kind word for it) with this blog lately.

I'm not sure if its to do with real life being so busy, or if its just a break. (No guilt, tho. As my 11-year old step-daughter is always telling me, 'Women don't feel guilt.' Duly noted, and I agree with the principle.)

So in the interests of throwing some goods out there into the universe, here are some photos, capturing a bit of our life at the moment.

in the interests of honesty

The sunny beach photos are true of course, but so is this:

life is a bit strained at present.

Have been Solo Parent for 3+ weeks now, due to partner's crazy April work schedule, which means that even when he's here, he's not Here, you know?

While I don't mind that, the tension in the house has been palpable for a while now, and it's just not fun. I'm ready for life to swing the other way - towards easier. To match all that sunshine, please.

And the laughter from little one, who is suddenly signing like a fiend and singing and dancing, generally being the light of the universe through any and all darkness.

(Just as I wrote that, she growled like a tiger and then laughed. Proof of hope.)

sunny days

In spite of the apparently looming cloud of ash from Iceland's erupting volcano, our weekend has been sunny and glorious... so we celebrated at our favourite spot with some new friends, and in spite of any looming clouds, had a lovely time.

Sandy toes

First beach day.

It feels like summer.

We had lunch down on the beach with friends, and then played in the sand.

My favourite season commences.

What makes a good week

Partner's been away, doing outdoory-youth-workery things like camping and kayaking and that's left me doing the solo parenting thing with little one. And actually, as someone who loves her Alone Time and has an (overly?) high solitude quota to meet, this is a good thing.

The week's been lovely. Lots of this:

And this is her about to sign 'more' - which means that after nine months of work with no outcome, she's finally decided to do little British Sign Language. (Which, might add, is still a newish idea over here, and smells a bit like yoghurt-weaving hippiedom to the Brits, so I've received quite a lot of 'What the hell are you doing' looks as a result. Thank god she caved, or I'd look a real ass about now.)

The downside is that 'more' is the only sign she's decided to do. And it means all of the following things:

'I want' - as in, anything that she is reaching for.

'Do it' - as in, make the phone vibrate, read me this book, etc.

'Hungry' - as in, feed me these crips (old empty wrapper from the trash) instead of the banana you gave me for breakfast. Honestly, it took her 3 tries to get me to figure out what she was saying.

And we've had a lovely week of mum-daughter time, romping about and going to lots of places to play. She's got new wellies, so we can go do the vegetable garden up the road in the summer and go visit the new baby calves there.

All that said, even on a good week, everybody gets cranky. She woke up this morning whining like a professional, and hasn't really stopped since. It's at moments like this that I'm glad I've got a two-parent house, and that the second parent is due home tonight. Phew! Respect to those single parents who stay sane out there... they're superheroes.

ludite farewell

I used to be really anti-technology, party because of an ethic that thinks we just roll too fast for our own good these days, and partly out of Good Old Fear, just because I didn't understand it. I'm of that in-between generation, born in 1980, who was raised without email and with the most basic of computer games... think Oregon Trail, where the biggest excitement was shooting poorly animated deer, which for this vegetarian is saying something!

So when I went off to Uni, I had to learn it All. And did so with a great deal of whining, resentment and very little grace, I might add.

Since then, tho,

it's been a slipperly downhill slide.

So much so that I admit to being 'in love' with the new computer. (Romance still going strong) and have just bought a (whisper) blackberry phone. Nerd, I know. But for someone who loves to type fast, texting on a regular phone feels like walking through syrup. Oh, sigh.

Better go knit something or bake some bread to make up for it.

Acts of creation and Big Huge Messes require a bit of glitz to sparkle up the process, don't they?

luck

I'm superstitious to a fault, attributing good energy to the strangest of things - whether the leaf in our table is in or out, the perfume I'm wearing, which handbag is in use, shoes, whilst I know that its silly, I can't avoid it.

That said, all fingers are crossed, spit's in the wind, and salt over the shoulder. All those praying people pray, all hope to the gods and goddesses and little fishes of the earth. May luck be with us.

New raincoat, from Jojo Maman Bebe, the sweet little boutique on Gandy Street in Exeter, which is usually too expensive for my frugal bones, but I couldn't resist the children's storybook look of this one.

Reminds me of reading British stories - The Saturday Children? - and all those strange glimmers from my own childhood that looking back are part of what has brought me here today.

Also loving this... Keri Smith's 'Rebel's Manifesto'.

And this...

Our new toy cupboard, which used to be the bookshelf. Love love love having the toys tucked away, so that the lounge can be reclaimed for us when it needs to be.

upgrading

Well, it finally happened. The laptop bit it. On Thursday night it did it's last formal act - watching an episode of Grand Designs, as it happens, which is pretty all right as last acts go - and then Friday morning it wouldn't wake up. This laptop's been clearly terminal for quite a while now, but it was still sad... and a bit of a financial shock to realise that actually we needed to replace it right away, or our family system was going to combust. Madness.

So we went out a-questing on Saturday and came home victorious -with a Proper Computer nonetheless, and I set it up in under 30 minutes nonetheless, only to realise that it needed a wireless adaptor, duh, so we got up the next morning and a-questing found a usb adaptor, got home, plugged it in, and realised that it needed speakers, duh....

you get the picture.

Laptops do spoil you for the all-in-one-package deal, and it's a slow learning curve realising that pc's aren't quite so simple...

but Damn, it's fast.

I think I'm in love. Even in its current speakerless state, it's still a beautiful thing.

Grown-up Furniture

On Saturday, as part of our Mother's Day festivities, we bought a bookshelf.

A real one.

Partner and I tend towards buying furniture that's been previously loved, which is just about how I like it, but the downside of this trend is that we own a lot of stuff that's one degree away from falling apart. That, or it's all things which have been given to us by friends/family who look around our somewhat sparse possessions and then say 'Here, have this table.' with a slightly pitying expression. Maybe it's because we've both moved so much over the last decade, but we seem to have an aversion to buying Grown-Up Furniture, like matching sofa sets, etc.

That said, on Saturday, we both gladly and immediately agreed we needed this reclaimed pine bookshelf that we found in a hole-in-the-wall furniture place in Totnes...

it called to us.

And now, it's holding all the PhD books and kayaking binders which have been lying around the house for several months, as we lacked the shelving space for it all. And it makes me happy, especially in the sunshine.

Also,

I made a dress.

Out of an old top of mine. Refashioning. As ever, no before picture, because I always forget in my whim-spontaneous-let's-just-do-it surge which leads to any crafty output.

But doesn't she look sweet in it? I love the double layer skirt. I want one.

snug sleeves

I'm knitting, still.

I've had a moment of crisis, where I've started the sleeves twice over, each time deciding that they're too tight to possibly fit my 15-month old, and even now on the 3rd go, they're still too tight. I think the instructions in the book for an adult jumper don't translate exactly to baby proportions. Oh well. I'm sure there'll be someone with a 3-month old I can gift this to, and start a bit wiser next time. It's still exciting to knit without a pattern, I'm enjoying the spontanaeity and freedom of it.

It's glorious, sparkly, sunny here. Mothering Sunday weekend. I got a big bouquet of flowers and some chocolates and a lovely lazy Saturday at home with my partner, which was just what I would have asked for... now I'm going to try to convince said party that we should go shopping for the bookshelf we desperately need to hold all his kayaking binders and my PhD papers. Recycling centre, here we come! I love buying furniture second hand - touching worn wood from well-built pieces is such a great joy, and knowing that you're giving something a second life feels so much more right. (I swear this isn't the same woman who was on the Ikea website this morning, contemplating flat pack. Back to my old sane self, begone lazy thoughts!)

The photos are from coffeecake I baked last week - from my old 'Joy of Cooking' cookbook which is filled with notes in the margins. Everytime I cook something from it, I write the date, the location and what I'm doing that day. Little snippets of life. Then, when I go back to bake something again, I can check in with myself. It's quite worn now, and some of the notes have smudged or faded or had to scrawl onto the next page. But one of the things I love is how I've started making different things over the years. (And certain things: chocolate chip cookies, plain white bread, beer and cheese bread, tortilla soup - over and over and over. Old friends.) But now my cookbook has little notes by Yorkshire Puddings and Beef Stew and carrot fritters. All part of how life changes you and versa vice. Progress, or so it feels.

Anyway, the coffeecake was made in two variations: blueberry with streusal topping and cinnamon/sugar/almond. Both tasty. Both long gone now. Lovely spongy texture. Not too sweet.

Kinda like today. Just right.

elizabeth zimmerman & no naps

am knitting my first jumper without a pattern - following the old 1970's copy of Elizabeth Zimmerman's 'Knitting Without Tears' that I found in my mother's knitting basket and stole away the last time I was in the states. I'm addicted to it now - her prosaic, matter-of-fact, comforting tone, but especially the fact that she gives instructions in percentages, which helps my math-phobic brain understand, and allows for spontaneous expression and changing my mind, which I love. Yes yes yes.

I'm also watching two babies today...

and it's 1 PM...

and neither of them have napped.

Mine fell asleep at lunch, but woke up again about 2 minutes later, afraid she'd missed something. This could be a long afternoon.

At least I've got some knitting to keep me company.

temper tantrums, correspondance and warm feet

I've been busy.

Baby has learned how to throw full on temper tantrums. Is this a natural growth phase for 14 month olds? Seems likely. Anyhoo, she's calculated exactly how hysterical she needs to get in order to 'activate' Mum, and consequently will cry herself into a frenzy or coughing fit so that I leap to her aid. Not suffering for smarts, this kid. She's got it figured out. As soon as I pick her up, instant mood fix. I think I might blame it on the ginger hair - and would be more frustrated about it, except I have a sniggling suspicion that this energy, when channelled, could run the world. I can't wait to see.

Knitting like a fiend, except I always give things away spontaneously and in fits of extravagence and forget to photo them first, so there is little evidence of the efforts... save these...

woolly socks...
and button leg warmers...

both of which I kept for myself.

I used to only keep the rubbish projects that didn't turn out, but have realised lately that this is silly. What's the point of knowing how to knit if you don't reap the benefits? Baby also has a new hat and new socks, but no photos of those, as ever.

In other news, partner is away in Wales for the weekend - leaving just the girlz to have a rowdy girlz time - lots of green vegetables for dinner, and some nice period dramas on the telly, methinks! Ah, livin it up.

Today I got home from Bustling About to find a letter. A real letter. Sitting with the post. For me. From a dear old friend, who's decided to 'catch up with old friends' There is just something magical about holding the weight of a good long letter in your had - rubbing your finger over the stamps on the front. Thinking of where it's been, and what a journey it's had. So I sat right down - in one of those moments of serendipity (baby asleep, groceries away, research ignorable) and in a little pool of sunlight, I wrote a letter back. On old brown wrapping paper, and reused an envelope. So there, technoworld. (And thusly, by blogging about it, have equalized my energies.)

Oh well, at least my toes are warm. Vegetarian dinner, period costumes, here we come!

play date

I'm watching a friend's baby today - so there are two 13-month olds rolling all over the living room floor as I write. They keep squealing with joy whenever they see each other... it's an infectious kind of enthusiasm. (Makes me wish we still did that when we met up with friends).

But what strikes me is how different they are - my daughter and her friend. Even at 13 months. Their little mannerisms, quirks, personalities are already of their own flavour. (Now they're pulling all the books off the bookshelf).

Better go.

on not feeling guilty and other pleasures

i drove home today with the sun setting rosy-pink over the rolling devon hills and thot

yes

this is my life,

and it hasn't gotten any less amazing.

baby (all 13 months of her) singing in the back seat

and bags of groceries, blessed be supermarkets and privilege and our access to it, such plenty.

and came home to a laughing sweet family with a view of the sea

and have nothing but thankfulness in my heart for this sweet little lilting life

all of it spread at my feet