Flibbertygibbet

One of our dinosaurs is missing

Because I bit his chocolately little head off, and yummy it was too. I tell you, the torture of having large bowls of melted chocolate in the house when you're trying to eat sensibly...

No, they are all still living in the fridge.  Extinction looms tomorrow.

Here's the birthday girl's actual present:  Meet Bronty.

I'm not sure about the button eyes - I might take them off and repurpose his nostrils as eyes.  With a black dot or something.  Plus I'm thinking that I may have mixed him up slightly with a stegasaurus.  Should he have (what is the word? spikes? spines? ridges?  I am losing my capacity for language. Probably after the world's longest post yesterday) bumpy bits?  Mind you, it's not like the brontosaurus ever existed, really, so I figure I'll be ok.  But if any three year old is going to know the difference, it will be his new owner.

Remember the film?

I have learned my lesson(s)

Life Lesson 1:

Do not ask a three year old what she would like for her birthday

Certainly not in a casual manner.  For she may have an answer ready.  She may also be a particularly dear little girl, who deserves to have to her birthday wish honoured, even if she's not actually technically your god-daughter, she's XH's god-daughter and you're - well, you're just in there, part of the package.  You may also have told him that you're taking care of her gift and he's paying for it because you know what, that's just the easiest thing. 

Do not ask a three year old what she would like for her birthday, because she may, without skipping a beat, reply:

"A chocolate dinosaur".

Ah hah.

And you may just be soft enough in the head to follow through.

They're monsters.  Not in the scary sense, because they actually possess dopey grins - and what could be either one tombstone tooth or a tongue poking out - but because they take a staggering 100g of chocolate each.  That's a family sized bar in each one (the smaller moulds I wanted were sold out).  I started off using Green and Blacks, as I usually do, and then realised that not only madness but penury that way lay, so I switched to good old Cadburys. 

Life Lesson 2:

Dad knows best

Certainly when it comes to chocolate.  Well he would do as he was a baker and confectioner.  I had an impromptu lesson in tempering chocolate, so it will be interesting to see if the next two dinos are shinier than these.  And whether the first two set.  Yes there will be more - there are six children coming to the party with us (at the Natural History Museum, where else?) and you can't get away without enough for one each.  Despite the fact that each one has their annual chocolate requirement contained in one brontosaurus-shaped package.  Perhaps their parents will be able to convince them to split them.  Yeah, that's an idea...

* * * * *
Lots of work coming up so will pop back to the blog as often as I can.  In trying to get everything done, I'm very conscious that not only is it St Patrick's Day on Saturday, it is also the Eurovision Song Contest.  It's a bit like a lunar eclipse on Halloween, snow on Christmas Day, winning the lottery on your birthday, or maybe in this case extra white sauce on the bacon and cabbage. (especially if it's the gammon and colcannon at the Empress - had lunch there last week and the food rocked).   The icing on the barmbrack cake, as it were.
I fondly remember the Eurovision from college.  I mean, the music is rubbish, obviously, but for a couple of years back in the early 90s, when Ireland didn't seem to have much to shout about, we were certainly able to win the Eurovision. Again, and again.  It also spawned the clickety-legged spectacle that is Riverdance, it was the interval entertainment in 1994 (I'd dispute that the contest didn't create a financial burden for RTE - as a media student back then, we were continually told how the budgets had been slashed in order to pay for the Eurovision) and watching it always turned in to a fairly mental night.   It's up there with the Late Late Toy Show which is - or certainly was in the Gaybo days - seminal Irish television and such a strong feature of my childhood.  It was basically a seasonal show where they featured toys that would be 'big' for Christmas - sending Santa into a frenzy if he had already allocated Johnny's and Mary's pressies based on that letter they sent him in November... I always wanted my parents to go the Toy Show because the main catchphrase, which the audience was just dying for, was '...and there's one for everyone in the audience!', it was the mother of all freebie giveaways.  Ah yeah, brings a smile, and I'd bet that anyone Irish who's about my age would agree. 

So the question is, where could we go on Saturday night to celebrate the auld national holiday, and also be able to see the Eurovision?   What a perfect night!  Roll it there Colette...

BTW there's an interview with myself and Rebecca in the Irish Echo this week, if it's available in your area and you'd like to check it out.  She also has a wonderful new blog that you must visit...

**Edit:  As Caroline's comment so rightly says - it's a qualifying thing for the Eurovision only today.  Sure who'd want to watch that kind of rubbish?

Result

When I met up with Helen and Ting at The Big Chill House Hootenanny, Helen asked me what I'd been up to for the weekend.  And my mind went blank. 

Seriously, what had I spent my Saturday doing?  Raise eyes from navel, young lady!

Oh yeah.  Working on freelance stuff.  Making the prize for the little competition that will be appearing shortly - because I like the irony of announcing a game of chance on an 'unlucky' date - even though it won't be a Friday this month.  I've been reminded how superstitious I am recently by the growing collection of lucky pennies that I've been accumulating, which are rattling around in my coat pocket.  What can I say, the old rhyme has stayed with me:

Find a penny,
Pick it up,
All day long
You'll have a penny good luck

I sort of rewrote the last line when I was a child, because by then a penny had literally lost much of its value, and was exchangeable only for the smallest of sweeties and I remember when my favourites, Fizzle Sticks, went from a penny to 2p to 3p and the harsh realities of inflation hit me, as my 10p sweetie money went from buying ten fizzle sticks to five to... you get the picture.  My teeth probably thanked me though.

We Irish are a pretty superstitious lot generally, it's fairly well ingrained in our culture, which may be why I do feel compelled to pick up those pennies.  It's also something I've been thinking about for the theme of some of the small quilts I'm working on, and well as reading a book of relatively disturbing Irish fairy tales (they have much more in common with the grim Brothers Grimm original works than the Disneyfied versions we usually get nowadays.)

So hopefully someone can back me up on this - recently I was out for a walk in the park with Pauline and Jen,  and I saw a single magpie.  So I sort of pretended to spit, and waved at him.   
And they looked at me like I was sort of acting crazy.  Crazier than normal crazy.  But it's not like I asked him how his wife was, which is obviously just silly.

The Big Chill House - great venue.  Fab pies. Enticing burlesque, great music, frequently hysterical comedy, particularly Phil the Naked Canadian Comedian.  No, that's not his stage name but it probably should be, and that's how he ended up by the end of the evening.  Trying to start a 'Nude Farm' up on the balcony.  Classic "you had to be there" comedy but it was just brilliant.  I was laughing too hard most of the time to remember the names of the rest of the comedians - or indeed the bands -  so I'm hoping Ting will remind me later.

And contrary to my recent spate of showing stash and supplies rather than finished pieces, here's the necklaces I made from the semi-precious beads I bought last week.  Hell, they barely even made it into stash.  It's a record for me.

Rosequartz beads and 'hisbiscus flower' pendant

Dyed mother of pearl 'polo mints'.

Now I just need to get cracking on the rest of the wardrobe.

Confession time

There were a lot of rubbery arms in Liberty.  Knitterooney's arm got twisted into snaking forwards and grabbing some beautiful deep red Kidsilk Haze, amongst other bits and pieces, though it did take us a while - she was sticking to her "I have given up yarn for Lent" vow most devoutly until Dollie Daydream 'explained' that Lent wasn't about giving things up, rather it's about doing good deeds.  Being kind of karmic, you know.  Knitterooney will be out feeding stray little old ladies, watering kittens, and helping plants to cross the road for the next week (or something like that) in penance - I'm just hoping she got home in time to stash the stash before it was spotted.  I did offer to shelter it at my place for a while, till the heat dies down...

Dollie was actually very restrained in her purchases, and came back bearing a medium-to-large sized bag, I was impressed. 
Then she caved and snared the fabulous birdie fabric, hah!

I was probably the worst of the lot.  Though this morning I rationalised that I did actually stick to my budget because the biggest piece of material is actually a gift for someone else - for G's baby's dress.

I bought the piece in the middle - a Kaffe Fassett print to tie in both my Swap Strips from the January Strip (arranged around the top right/right) and the Purl Soho fabrics that Helen brought back from New York.  There's more to be liberated from the stash for this but I'm very excited about my quilt now!

Because I am obsessed by cupcakes at the moment, but resisting making two dozen for myself (though it was suggested at knitting that I shouldn't hold back, I could just go for it and then bring them into Foyle's on the Tuesday morning - which I am considering, if I can figure out a way to transport them safely) I went for this low-fat option instead:

It's going to be an apron.  I'm pretty sure of that.

Hey, question:  I'm trying to find jumbo ric rac, for the new Tie One On apron theme. I have seen the skinny stuff, in Liberty funnily enough, but I'd like to get some of the chunky one.  Does anyone know anywhere in London or any UK online sellers that stock the thicker versions?  I have seen it on US websites and that's probably where I'll end up, but if anyone knows anywhere local, please shout.  I wonder if VV Rouleaux does it...

And I'm slowly getting this crochet business on the go: I've got the yarn (see below - plus there's some cotton in the stash that might work too.)  I've got the venue (round our kitchen table).  I've got the tutor and the participants.  Now I just need to put them all together.

A trip to the post office is almost overdue, there's about eight separate things to go out - just a few more bits to put  together for the fabric swap.  Here's the sneakiest of sneak previews...

Where has it gone?

Where has what gone, I hear you ask.

...This week...
Well, it was partly handed over to a lingering lurgy.  It's almost gone.  The illness and the seven days or howeverlong since I last purged posted.

...My sewing mojo...
I arose this morning, possessed with enthusiasm for getting the machine back out - I seem to have been spending far too much time with two pointy sticks and glorified string, rather than my first - or should I say original - love, which is sewing.  So I started on the wool stash bags this morning, but I seem to have banjaxed the Singer,  to use the technical term.  So I've got to figure out how to get it down the road to 'the little man' which is probably going to involve a taxi as I've no car any more and it weighs roughly the same as I do.

...My Jitterbug joy...
More news on the almost-completed socks will be posted tomorrow.  They have been a learning experience, that's true.  That's the most positive thing I can find to say about them.  I'm hoping to look on them in the bright light of morning and rediscover some enthusiasm for them.  Even the tiniest little bit.  No holding your breath there in the back.

...My career prospects...
Actually, I don't want a career as such, unless it's flexible enough to let me still attend knititng group on Tuesday mornings.  Joking, God of Work Opportunities - though it's typical that you'd start listening just when I start mucking about...I didn't get the job that I'd interviewed for, because they want someone who's got more financial experience which is perfectly fair.  The interviewer recommended me to a recruiter though, who's  putting me forward for some stuff which is flattering.  We'll see what happens. 

...My head...
Well, I know where that's gone, right up my--
I know it's time to get out of the schlump and see what other opportunities are going to present themselves this week.  I think getting that no on the job dented my confidence more than I'd thought it would, even though I'm not entirely broken hearted about this job itself, but it would have given me some security, focus, independence, and money of course too.   I was this close (you know how close, thumb and forefinger a mini-milimetre apart) to just booking a flight and going home to my mum.  In fact I still may do that, but later on this month and for slightly different reasons.  And having arranged for someone to look after the cats before I go.  March is always a noteworthy month for me  - the anniversary of when XH and I first met, which will naturally be bittersweet this year; St Patrick's Day, which normally passes in a blur of me watching people from all other nationalities celebrating my national holiday, which amuses me; my parents' wedding anniversary and my birthday.  Three years ago on my 30th birthday XH took me to NYC and proposed.  I never know whether to celebrate my birthday or not and this year it's going to be an even more difficult decision. 

My lovely Irish mammy says 'What's for you won't go by you.'  which can be interpreted as 'things work out the way that they are supposed to.' In this case I think I have to trust that I'll make the right decisions about marking all of March's anniversaries and dates this year.   Mums do always know best.   

A tale of two kitties

If you don't have cats - or more to the point, don't "get" cats, then dear god,  just look away now.  For your own sake.

Right.

You know how you're supposed to love all your children equally?  Um... yeah.  I don't have any children but I have acquired two cats.

Unofficially, Twiggy, aka Twiggle, Twigetha, Twig-Twog, or Wiggle, the black and white mog, is 'mine'.  Shrimp, the black one is XH's.  Twig is much more passive and it's rare for her to come looking for affection.  Though when she does, drop everything.  She'll mewl until you do.  Plus she's as soft as an angora bunny, a wonderful feline hot-water bottle to snuggle up beside you on the sofa.

Shrimp, [Shrimple, Shrimpington, Shrimpey or her full name of Shrimpton] on the other hand, may in fact be a dog. 

She answers to her name, begs on her hind paws and comes when called.  But recently she has also developed a very cat-like prediliction...

for YARNICIDE!!

CSI* photo 1:  the wip glove, mauled and hauled down out of the knitting bag, and caught on the chair.  Luckily for the glove.

Because to find the ball...(btw she's a discerning cat - she prefers angora)...

CSI photo 2:  follow the thin red [pink] line down the hallway...

CSI Photo 3:  and keep following....

CSI photo 4:  the culprit was actually found at the scene of the crime, crying because she couldn't get the wool any further. Presumably the goal was out through the cat flap and into the garden.  What you don't see in these photos is how much of the ball she managed to unravel too.

I was kind of hoping it was an isolated incident but today she's also stolen a hat knitted from kimono ribbon and savaged a ball of extra fine merino.  Like I said, discerning.  And her transgression rate is rising so I'm scared to think what's coming next - probably nicking the entire bag of sock yarn.

"Mmmmmm, wooooooool" - better keep an eye on this one... a potential partner in crime.

'Just pretending to sleep... now where's that Lux I saw earlier?'

*Cat Scene Investigation

A houseproud burgular?

Every time I walk into the kitchen, I wonder 'where is all the stuff gone?'

The Ethel fabric is now boxed and put away upstairs.  (That room also needs to be cleared out but seriously, I'm not feeling up to that just yet...)  In its place: all my paper patterns. Skirts, trousers, bags, tops - all on the to-do list.  Which should keep me busy until about 2011.  The red and white WIP that you may have caught a glimpse of last time is finished and ready to post - but as usual I forgot to photograph it.

Even the craft press was tidied - mind you, so was my ribbon box yesterday, which amused Helen no end.  Wow, I really do have too much time on my hands.  And yes, this qualifies as 'tidy' in my house.

Yesterday at knitting I suspected I was coming down with something - it's struck.  Achey muscles and a cheese grater cough.  I'm off to feel sorry for myself.  Mostly I'm peeved that I don't feel up to going out tonight.  And I'm even reluctant to knit, because I'm likely to foul it up even more - gaagh. 

Bloggly stuff

Love this embroidery - hedgehogs!

A tutorial for beautiful brooches.

Such delicate sensibility of the time of year that's in it.

Well, you can't say the seller didn't warn you - scroll down to the T&Cs

And look - my new stationery. 

Welcome to my world

Firstly, hello to the so very many people who've found their way over here from Rebecca's lovely blog, come on in.  Don't be scared now (or at the end of this lengthy post).

Having slightly underestimated the time I'd need to do The Freelancing Job From Hell this week, there hasn't been much extra time for blogging - or knitting.  I mean, WTF...

I'm trying very hard to justify two things today:   (1) going to Knitflicks at the Ritzy.  I've never managed to make it and it's starting to have a Brigadoon feeling to it.  Does it really exist?  (2)  heading out here for a couple of these tonight.

So what's stopping me?  Put simply, time and money.  Firstly, the FJFH is still ongoing.  The joy of it is, of course, that doing the freelancing is what pays for the fun stuff, but payday is a long way off and the scarlet numbers of my bank account are weighing ever heavier on my conscience.  Plus you don't get paid until you're finished (and you've invoiced.  And waited a month.  And mentally and in reality spent the money thrice over).

I'm also feeling the need to declutter a little (also known as "making room for more, newer stuff" ). Yesterday I spent more money found some storage solutions at our favourite Scandi retailer.    Small storage, medium storage.  Let me introduce you to a corner of my house. 

The top of the sideboard.   A couple of gifts to be delivered,  but mostly everything is in its place.

But wait - what's that?
Yeah, look, down there, what's that in the corner?

Is it...could it be... yes, it's a basket regurgitating some of the fabric staaaaaash!  Dammit, it's time to get that sort of stuff cleared up.  Particularly as every once in a while, one of the mogs thinks "ooh, I'll just feck some of this stuff out and have a little snooze in here.  Ahhhhh, comfeeeeeeeeeeee"...

Now you might think that I'm overreacting a little.  (Moi? as my heroine would say)  But when you turn around you get the fuller picture (cue 'Reeh-Reeh-Reeh' horror flick music)

Two sewing machines, a laptop, 'real' work, accumulated clutter... it's kind of got to stop.  Once the FJFH is done, all of this has to go away.  Hey, I have the Ikea boxes to do it!  Well, once I've assembled them.  Damn, hope XH didn't take his toolbox when he moved out.  (Unlikely.)

Then I can be getting along with the WIPs*!  Here's a couple of blurry previews to intrigue you.

Plus there's the haul from my brother's escapades in Boulder!


He chose a lot of fabrics with a black background because "babies see contrast".  He's too bloody clever.  His best friend is about to become a dad soon so that's where a lot of these fabrics will be going, into a quilt for Eric's baby. 

Ok, time to knuckle down to the work for the day.  I'm going to try to shuffle enough stuff around to go out tonight, as the architect of tonight's amusement is off to forrin' parts for the foreseeable future - this can be a bon voyage drink...

* oh, and finding a real job too

What have my big feet got me into this time?

Today I put in an online entry for this lottery.  Rather than providing the means for a spending spree, winning it would involve me spending my own money, but very willingly.

It's not for quite a long time, but preparations need to start now, as I won't know if I'm in or not until June. But can't be wasting all this time now. Plus it will get me out there pounding the pavements. Or the treadmill belt, at the moment.

There's a couple of people who should feel responsible for this:

• Pauline, for nonchalantly saying I should head off to NY for a weekend, though I think you meant sooner than November.
• Helen, because you've done it.  We talked about it at knitting the other day and I went online the next day - and lo and behold, found that it was time for the ballot. Serendipitous. 

Anyone know a good podiatrist?  Or have floor space in Manhattan come November? Ah ah ha ha ha haha ha ha... nervous giggles...