Thank you around the world

Fiddlesticks Hill

This was going to be a shameless plug post to punt a couple of my needle felt creations, but rather wonderfully they were snapped up almost as soon as they were listed in my Etsy shop, and since then I've been cracking on with breaking deadlines; non-stop studio work all day every day. This little landscape I named 'Fiddlesticks Hill' as it was so fiddly to make. The tree trunks were smaller than your wee finger nail and needle felting them was a *bit* of a challenge. However, I do like making alternative worlds and am very pleased that someone else is now enjoying it.

Instead, I will attempt to be more polite and say thank yous to kind bloggers who have tagged me or given me awards over the last few months. I simply don't have the time to respond to these as they come and I am taking the lazy way out, hoping they will forgive me. So in no particular order, thank yous and virtual cake to my blog friends from around the globe -

Dedicated Anglophile Elizabeth in California of Elizabeth Rhiannon is Visiting, (crumbs, that was back in July 2009, sorry Elizabeth!)

♥

Claire in the UK of Created and Felted (lovely felted pod bags)

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Coinsguylady, of the Hogscald Holler (rug hooking and banjo picking in the Ozark mountains, USA, a wonderful blog)

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Twiglet of Twiglet who makes all kinds of sweet craft treasures

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Rossichka from Bulgaria, of Out of the Shell, who is a professional puppeteer and has a wonderful imagination

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Kari in America who weaves exceptional art basketry, of Karibaskets

♥

And finally to Yarrow in the UK of Retreat (which was back in November, so more apologies)

If I have left anyone out, then you may have two slices of virtual cake and blame my faulty memory.

So while I am catching up with my P's and Q's, many chocolately thanks to my witty and funny friend Soozcat in the USA of Laundry Fairy, who (not for the first time) sent us a box rammed with Dove chocolates which Andy has become partial to - there were many and now there are few - and only because they have been hidden.

They have been moved to my nice new purse (emergency supplies) which, as you can see, was much needed; such kindness from Mlle Miracle of 'A Perfect Day', thank you for such a soft, lovely gift in my favourite red and not only that...

...but a new needle holder, which is already in use, I can never have enough needles (or holders).

Lastly but absolutely not leastly, big warm fluffy thank yous to my dear friend Janet in Virgina USA,,of The Empty Nest. Not content with making me a warm pumpkin scarf last year, she made me some mittens for my ever cold hands, in some of my favourite colours; not modelled by me as my fingernails are not fit to be seen. I really can't express how touched I am -

- especially as she has also adopted Oscar, who, alas, had to be sold. Groceries can't be bought with felt animals, unfortunately. I was so sad to put him up for sale, and so happy when I found he would be going to live with Janet. He spent Christmas with us, and has been mauled by a cat, so he's already had some adventures.

Farewell and safe journey Oscar - don't forget everything you've learned.

Haberdashery

Sometimes you spend an entire day trying to find a way to make a certain thing. You start with wire. Your first attempts end up on the floor and half a morning has gone by. You have an idea of how it might work, if only you could find that thing you've had for years, but don't know which box it is in.

Thank goodness you never throw anything useful away! Nylon lace is a nono, but interesting bits and bobs are uncovered; you find the rules to your game of Nine Men's Morris you thought you'd lost. A whole box of antique handmade lace is explored - but is sacred. Not for cutting.

Nothing useful in here today...

Not even in the glorious treasure chest that is the bottom layer of my workbasket.

Ah, here is a dusty basket with long abandoned temari balls...maybe there is something lurking in here...

Possibly a solution -

But no; after another experiment gone wrong, it's hard to feel that the day has not been wasted, except to find out what doesn't work!

The big clear up

Well, we survived that and the snow is gone. I've been out of the village for the first time since Dec 13th - a quick scenic spin on the motorbike. Time to survey the damage to my pots and round up the causalities. I seem to have lost most of my herbs, including some old friends like my twisted rosemary bush, which had such a pungent aroma. Andy's been clearing the ground for our new big poly tunnel, his Christmas present from his parents (thank you very much Mr and Mrs M) which will take up most of the left hand side of the plot.

My poor little studio has not been tidied for weeks and I could barely see the floor. I didn't really want to either, as the rug was almost grey with - stuff - in places. In my defence, I had confirmation of my other illustration job this month, and am now juggling it with the design work. Both of these have spring/early summer deadlines and both are full time jobs in themselves, so things have slipped somewhat. Look away now, if you have delicate nerves.

There were roughly forty jars of chutneys and jams shouldering each other for space - why have I got them in the studio? Because at some point last autumn I was dead set on labelling up each and every one, a thankless task which had to be abandoned for more important work-related things. Some had almost become part of the furniture...

Look, there's a herd of them sheltering beneath the wastepaper basket -

Eventually they were herded up and returned to their rightful home - the stores cupboard - labelled or not labelled. Which might be interesting at some future date.

Now, observe the difference;

What are the picture books? OK, here's a larger close up for the book lovers - click on for detail

There is even room for my legs under the table at last.

Snowed in

So, not being owners of even a car (let alone a four-wheel drive) we are snowed in. No gritter comes our way and the Co-op, our only shop, has been stripped. Quite often this is referred to a needless panic buying, but when the only shop for miles is almost empty and the roads to any town are impassable then things take on a different complexion. However, my habit of keeping an overstocked supplies cupboard (often laughingly referred to as my *nuclear supplies*) means that we can keep going comfortably for several days. Though we are being careful with logs and milk. And kibble.

The cats have taken personal umbrage at the disordering of their world and shuffle awkwardly through the garden like small, outraged snowploughs. Yesterday, just as the white heavens opened, I went for a solitary walk across the fields. Today Andy went a-wandering and came back with some splendid photos, such as this robin keeping within close shelter of a Dexter cow. Whether for warmth, or to take advantage of the earth being cleared (and grubs therein) - it was shadowing its large guardian, who seemed a little bemused by the attention.

Far beyond the village, the landscape lies buried and hushed.

And I might be biased, but I think nothing is as lovely as Cotswold stone in the snow.

We'll be fine - I have baked a loaf the size of a small planet.

Scene of Crime

Look what I found at lunchtime, fallen from the Christmas tree like a ripe fruit. A sad little ribbon remained tied to the branch from which he fell. We weren't supposed to eat them until New Year's Day, when we undress the tree and put him outside for another year. There were a couple of crumbs, which I *tidied* away.

Later, there were a few more crumbs, but no sign of a body.

EDIT - I wish I could claim to have made our gingerbread people, but they are out of my league - all thanks to my talented baking friends generosity.

Turning pennies into cheese

Despite needing an initial defrosting, our little pot tree looked very pretty when he was dressed. He comes in every Christmas Eve and goes back outside on January the 1st. We like to keep our quiet celebrations short and special.

I bought him fourteen years ago, when he was a scruffy 10 inch urchin, and against the odds, he's thrived. Now he has finally burst his pot in a bid for freedom.

Here he is on Christmas morning, being looked after by Oscar, my latest needle felt piece.

This year he is proudly displaying some beautiful gingerbread people, made by an old friend with whom we have recently re-made contact. Each one is delightfully hand painted and the room smells sweetly of spicy goodness.

The three of us trained together to be illustrators way back in the early 1990's. Now she makes wonderfully decorated cakes and cookies, I make felt toys and Andy wears his fingers to the bone as a supermarket manager supporting us. Which just goes to show how life takes unexpected turns.

Every week before Christmas, I count the pennies in my penny pot. Usually it is spent on nice cheese and this year it was spent on very select cheese indeed. One piece, to be precise. Although we only have two shops in the village, one of them is an excellent deli, which specialises in local cheeses. There were only two of these 'Cerney Pyramids' left - unpasteurised goat's cheeses covered with ash and seasalt, from the village of North Cerney, just over the border in Gloucestershire. Being a premium product, they are not cheap. But the kind shopowner generously gave me a little discount as he knows that I am a hardcore gourmet cheese lover with very shallow pockets. Now it waits, like the rest of the world, for New Year's Eve, when it will be eaten with reverence.

Unholy mackerel

A couple of months ago, Andy came back from work with eight large reduced-in-price fresh mackerel 'because I know you like your mackerel'. So kind. 'It needs eating now though, it won't last much longer'. There is only so much not-entirely-fresh mackerel a girl can eat, so I decided to try cold pickling it, as I believe they do in Scandanavia. (I might be wrong on this).

Bit of a faff, but I had that holy glow one gets from preserving. No waste in this house! A month later, I tried some. I love rollmop herrings, but my fishy pickles were in a class of their own - quite sour and mushy, though I bravely ate the whole dish. The jar went to the back of the fridge, where I found it a few days ago. There was something about it I didn't quite trust - I may even have started a new eco-system. It smelled - very fishy, but I don't think it was off - just funny coloured in parts. Nonetheless, it has been disposed of.