Flibbertygibbet

Year of Colo[u]r

I'm trying to figure out how to put the button in my sidebar, but I've joined A Year of Color. Some beautiful things to look at - not least Happything's photos of the colour of the week - a different crayon to set us on our colourful ways.  Her 'quilt for Millie' is the sort of thing I want to do for our friends' new baby too.

A is for...

...August.
...Alphabet.

Alphabet August. 

Attempting to Better my Creative Daily Effort.   

So in short, I'm going to try to make twenty-six posts in August, each one brought to you by a different letter.  Quite why I'm diving into this right now, I'm not sure.  Masochism springs to mind.  But at least I'm giving myself the 30 remaining days for the 26 required posts.

A is for August.

August is Admit You're Happy Month. 
According to the Secret Society of Happy People,

In August wear your SILVER shades, donate your SILVER coins—pay someone’s toll, bus or subway fare, buy a soda, or take up a donation for your favorite charity, or pass out SILVER kisses. Why SILVER? Because not-so-secretly happy people have a way of finding the SILVER lining in even the darkest clouds.

And here's why you should get happy. Perhaps by moving to Vanuatu.

The Secret Society of Happy People's aims for the month of August, and no doubt beyond:

Recognize and express happiness

Don’t rain on other people’s parades

Which reminded me of the thought-provoking posts that I read last night about blogging and comments.  This particular response from Theresa C gave me pause:

I've been reading yuor (and other) blogs through bloglines, so i often don't go to the comment box. Is this going as unpleaseant as it sounds? That makes me question the way I read blogs. Maybe I should take some time to tell how much I appreciate the ones I read (and long for) for some time now. As in any other relationship, maybe I should care a little more.

I regularly read quite a few blogs but don't always comment.  Delurk, people, get your virtual selves out there*.  When you read a blog that makes you smile or frown in contemplation, or swoon, tell the author.  Same with Flickr photos etc.  Without being cruel or rude - particularly from behind the cowardly cloak of 'anonymity'.  As my mother says, if you can't say something nice...

Share some happiness, for the month that's in it. 

*I'm being a little presumptuous here, assuming that anyone is reading this.

Rocks

Primal Scream at the Garage - staggeringly good. It's a sweaty little pit of a place and the roof was raised. The band looked slick and polished when they slunk out on stage, didn't last long in that heat. Eventually Mani was asking if there was a hairdresser in the house - sauna atmosphere was getting to him. But it was amazing, amazing. They even played every single song we'd discussed before we went in - starting with 'our' song Movin on Up; Nitty Gritty; Swastika Eyes; 99th Floor, Country Girl, and on it went... I can't hear a thing today but it was totally worth it. Can't believe I actually won the tickets. Someone was smiling down on me.

Hoarding...

I am a bad, bad, hoarder. I'm about to start on an apron for the June Tie One On (my first) and so ordered a metre of blue gingham, as the theme is Musicals (can you see where I'm going with that?)

Then last night when I was looking for some fabric for my effort for the Pincushion Challenge - yes, I'm quite the little joiner at the moment - I found that in fact I had a half a metre of blue gingham, which would have been enough, stashed. I just didn't think to look properly. I need to sort out my storage! Which is why there's an Ikea trip coming up on Friday evening, eek.

I also drove out to look at some new doors for the house. I know that isn't that thrilling - but the fact that I got there, got lost, found my way again and completed the journey without my head exploding, is. It's not the driving per se that gets to me - it's the thought of missing the turns and ending up in Scotland.

Legal Oasis

Spent a very enjoyable day meandering around Legal and Illegal London and these were my two favourite faces of the day, both from Temple Church.

Since the Da Vinci Code, it's thronged with visitors every day. But otherwise these squares are gloriously peaceful and the history of Inns of Court is fascinating. Particularly for someone who isn't that knowledgeable about London history, despite having lived here for nine years - so embarrassing. Also threw up ideas for further adventures, and then we stopped for Pimms and a cream tea, in the glorious sunshine. World Cup lunacy started today - another reason to be delighted that Mr Flib doesn't like football. I've even managed to get him to agree to come and look at curtain material tomorrow - long live feminine wiles...

What goes around...

Ah, I do love Freecycle. I've normally used it before to give things away, which has always worked out well. Inspired by a fellow Refashionista another blog, I thought I might ask for something this time... so I posted for a dressmaker's form. (Bizarrely, I've always wanted one. Bit like the typewriter thing when I was nine... but I digress) I couldn't justify buying one, even though I'm having a ball making my own clothes at the moment - what a shame the shoemaking course at Central St Martin's isn't running any more - yeah right...
I also said I was looking for fabric and wool, as I figure this is the same as thrifting really, which is part of the rules for WR06.

And I'm picking up a dressmaker's form tomorrow! Plus the person who wanted what I was offering said she also has fabric that she doesn't need that I can have - from when she makes clothes for her drag queen friends, so the glamour quotient of my wardrobe may be getting hiked up. This seems like a fair exchange as I'm giving away my heated rollers - which I had hoped would give me 50s style starlet curls. But gave me a headache and made me look like a half-finished puppet. so it's a result all around!

I'm determined to try to finish the projects I'm already working on - so the flippy skirt gets hemmed once the bias is right; the gold (whoo-hoo) skirt gets sequinned; and the bag from 17 years ago finally gets its handles...

That's what I get for skiving

I just lost a long post but I should be working so that's karma for you.

Went to see a new play at the National last night, Market Boy. Interesting, as long as you're familiar with Romford Market, Thatcherite Britain and 80s pop music (there were two baffled older Americans in front of us...) Stayed out far too late, drank too much, all the usual fun.

I hope I'm going to be included in Wardrobe Refashion 06, I belatedly appealed to sign up for 4 months - eek! And I guess that it's ok to use the fabrics I bought yesterday.... got great crepe de chine for 99p a metre - how mad is it that the lining is 7 times that price... I was a good girl and washed all the fabrics in preparation for making two new skirts next week.

Spot the moggy in the garden photo.

Pumpkin party

Yesterday turned out to be a surprising-in-a-good-way day. Firstly, despite me thinking that our local charity shop never, ever has anything interesting, I found a great piece of pumpkin coloured upholstery fabric which will make a fabulous bag. Will be looking in there again, as well as going on a couple of planned thrifting excursions to various high streets that boast a number of charity shops. Just have to get some of that work that actually pays real money out of the way first.

I have a phobia, which emanates from childhood, about having my hair cut. I think it comes from when my dear dad, bless him, used to cut our hair - and this from a man who used to cut his own hair because he had a similar fear, so he should have known better - and so I was offered various incitements when I was a youngster to go under the scissors. I especially enjoyed the horse-riding lessons...
But I decided that a new 'do' was in order before going out last night, a bit of a confidence booster, as long as it didn't all go disastrously wrong, of course... So I picked a local hairdressers at random, as my old salon is on the other side of town, near the job I recently escaped from, and not worth travelling for. The guy who cut my hair was not only funny, he also gave me very good reasons why it would be a very bad idea for me to pursue my 'New Hairstyle' brainwave - a long fringe - as my most determined centre parting would make me look like Ozzy Osbourne if it was behaving, and more likely would be like Alfalfa from the Little Rascals, sticking up all the time. Other good bits of advice too, and not expensive - hurrah!

Went to a book launch last night and saw some of my old work colleagues. Apart from the endless stream of comments about how I'm a lady of leisure now (wouldn't that be nice, I'd have so much more time for finishing Flibbertygibbet projects) it was really pleasant. Very kind compliments about how I'm looking really well since I left (that's what happens when you no longer spend two hours a day on the underground). Lots of bubbly and the world's most dangerous canapes (all on foot-long wooden skewers, on at least three occasions I saw the waitress nearly lose an eye when a punter tried to dip the feta/squash into the salsa) and great fun! Then out for dinner and home at midnight just before my tube train turned into a pumpkin...

Nights at the Circus

Went to see Les Commandos Percu perform last night, the sound was amazing. They literally wear their drums on their bodies and move around the stage - and then in unexplainable feats of pyrotechnic jiggery-pokery, fireworks erupt not only from behind the stage, but from the performers themselves...

All the fun of the fair

A gloriously sunny day - well, between the clouds anyway - so I went back to Paradise Gardens. Carter's Steam Fair reminded me of a childhood obsession - carousel horses.

Does anyone know why they all have different names - is there a tradition to naming them? There wasn't a Dobbins to be seen, all distinctly human monikers. I never realised before that apparently US carousel horses face to the right as you look at them, but the 'romance' side of the UK ones (meaning the more decorative side which faced the public) was always the opposite way, and they face left. Mr Flib thinks this is because we drive on different sides of the road but that seems more like coincidence to me. The other great thing was the potted history lesson hanging from the rafters - reasonably lifelike depictions of all the kings and queens of England. I couldn't quite figure out why they were there?

This kid made me laugh. I think she might be just at that 'My mum and dad are like, soooo uncool' age, as a second later, when the machine started to crank up, she had a look of pure animation on her face. Only for a second, mind you. Then it was back to soor grapes.