a little post-ette

Yesterday Oliver made this:

I can honestly say I had no hand whatsoever in this little square - he made it all by himself, from scratch.  For this purpose:

Aaahhhhh.  Sweet.  And this is where most of my crochet swap squares migrated to:

Seems kinda cosy in there............

The passage of time...

... leaves but one standard - quality.

I was reminded of this quote (which I wrote out several million times when learning the art of calligraphy in my dim and distant past) when I was perusing the blog of Mrs Thomasina Tittlemouse earlier.  She is showing off some beautiful heirloom tablecloths (among other things) with exquisite embroidery work on them - so, so pretty.  I was musing how things made by our ageing (or long gone) relations are so durable, well made and stunningly handsome, but it is probably more to do with the fact that they have lasted so well because they are of quality, hence the quote.  Perhaps there were shoddily-made items floating around, but they have never been handed down so we get to look back with rose-tinted spectacles.  Maybe I should damn well make sure the pile of poop which I churn out on a regular basis makes it through to the next century by burying it all in an airtight time capsule for Oliver.  Heh heh heh.

Actually, talking of calligraphy (yes, stay with me, we were), I am going to see if I can find my old calligraphy practice sheets, because I was watching this programme about real roman life the other night, and there was a lot of looking at roman lettering, and I remembered how much I loved to use this style when doing calligraphy.  It is so geometric, and cleverly worked out so that it is even, and pleasing to the eye.  The programme, by the by, is worth a look - and certainly has altered the rosy-posy view I had of the way the romans lived. 

I really could blather on - I have caught bits of some quite odd programmes lately which have tweaked my little grey cells.  Off to wrestle Oliver to the table to exercise his - wish me luck. 

Ooh, some pics:  Because I have taken some.

Needing another colour here - have got silver on order, but I am toying with purple's opposite number on the colour wheel - yellow. 

Wedding anniversary tulips - gorgeous.

Oh, and here are the letters generated for Mark in his PC Scrabble game the other night:

Haaa haaaaaaa.  He started again. 

and we're off

With a little time in hand before lunch today,  and accompanied by Mr Nice Bloke Peter Andre on catch up, I started the ripple for Daisy.  It went beautifully.  Following Mrs Attic24's neat ripple pattern, There were no errors in counting (unheard of) and the first 3 rows are complete, and dare I say it, perfect.

By my standards, anyhow.  Had a bit of a moment when I was suddenly seized by the horror that I had used my Stylecraft 'life' wool instead of the 'special'.  The palpitations were very real, my friends. 

Spent the afternoon poncing around in town, where Oliver attended the St Georges Day parade and Cathedral service.  I am normally against these things in principle, being that they are on a Sunday, a family day, but this time I insisted (despite the fact I feel it is barbaric they can't wear coats in the rain and have to resort to bin liners beneath the uniform),  he go along for several reasons.  Firstly, because he is a sixer this time, and should, I think (and so does Mark), lead by example.  Secondly, because this is his last year in cubs and as he is one of the older ones he will be looked up to by the younger ones.  Thirdly, because it looks good to his leaders, that he is prepared to make the effort.  Fourthly, because I strongly believe there is something to be said for this sort of thing instilling a sense of patriotism and 'belonging', which, in turn, leads to a sense of self-worth and camaraderie.  Fifthly, it is the only time I could ever get Mark into town and into a posh coffee shop for a decent coffee, as it's the only place open after 4.30pm.  I nicked a posh coffee cup and saucer.  Ssshh, that is really naughty, don't tell anyone. 

I leave you with a pic of my boy parading the High Street, and Mark petting the cat under the guise of working on the garage. 

Laters.

Babette balls up

Quelle surprise.  The pattern calls for some squares to be done on a 3.5mm hook, and some on a 4.5mm hook.  Bugger that, I thought, I'll just bang 'em out on my trusty 4mm.  When will I ever learn??  The corner holes are just too damn big - buggeration. Dozy cow.  (smacks self on forehead). 

So now I have a weekend of starting a ripple, which I put off because I hate doing the first two rows, and re-doing all the squares I have already done.  Poo holes.

Meantime, I shall cheer myself up with images of glorious babettes from ravelry.

by afterglow

by nikkijo

That'll learn me.  Or not, I gloomily suspect. 

square eyes

I couldn't quite work out how to start the babette squares, think it uses that 'magic ring' idea, and I struggle to follow it written down.  So I decided that following the 'target square' pattern was near enough, and have knocked out these so far:

AND I am sewing in ends as I go.  And feeling pretty pleased with myself about it too.

I must start the ripple for my niece this weekend, procrastination is the enemy of progress ya di ya...

This pretty rainbow in stormy skies this morning:

And this shower of hail five minutes ago.

Bonkers.  Talking of global warming (we were, weren't we?) I watched the programme Four Rooms where one of the items up for offers was a pair of woolly mammoth tusks.  I found this soooo interesting for a few reasons, but mainly,  firstly - bloody hell - they are so OLD!!!!!! Like zillions of years - wow.  Secondly,  the fact that they apparently are becoming more readily available due to global warming, so are being released from their permafrost prison.  Fascinating, and scary.  If you have never watched Four Rooms, you should.  It is an eye-opening glimpse into the nature of human greed.

Nada mas.

Babette's Feast

The Ladram Bay annual 3-day judo nightmare is over once more.  Oliver gained his full orange belt, and got noticed by Sensei Goldman (the big cheese in this area as far as judo goes) as doing really well in the body combat session.  This is a huge deal for Oliver, as I am sure that given the choice, he would give up judo tomorrow, so to be singled out for praise by someone he respects and is in awe of is wonderful encouragement. 

When I say 'given the choice, he would give up judo tomorrow', I don't mean that he is dragged there kicking and screaming by his pushy over-achieving parents, I mean that he can, in common with many other boys of his age, err on the can't be arsed side of life sometimes.  Come a Friday evening, donning a judo suit and slipping out into the cold night air to attend a session seems pretty unappealing.  He is not physically competitive either, which may hold him back in one sense, but may help him keep his perspective that it is merely a hobby in another.  Whenever I get to see part of a session, or grading, I am always struck by the respect shown to the younger members by the older ones, and I am impressed by the way in which your progression through the belts demands and expects your involvement with teaching and encouragement of the lower grades.  This is something which can only benefit Oliver in the long run, and he has said he wants to achieve his junior black belt.  This means he will stay involved with judo til at least mid-teens, and I this is something we will guide him towards. 

Enough judo talk.  Lets talk crochet.  Ah yes, hook and yarn blah blah, my favourite.

My extra purple yarn didn't show up on Saturday, boo, and trapped at work in an unfamiliar role for the afternoon saw me trawling the depths of the Internet, more specifically ravelry.com,  for future inspiration.  I came across a blanket, the likes of which I have seen and admired before, but this time I went as far as to buy the pattern to download.

It is called Babette's blanket.



photo from ravelry.com, member Hyeknitter

C'est magnifique n'est pas?

I have all this yarn in my stash:

so the two elements have come together to be best friends.  Mark has rolled them eyes heavenward again about 'another  bloody blanket', but I am not to be deterred.  In fact, it is clear to me that my pile of yarn is missing a colour or two.  I shall be consulting my shade chart forthwith.

I leave you with a couple of pics from the crazy golf at Ladram, post judo, and Oliver showing his new term schedule, where he has managed to wangle himself a day and a half off by skillful manipulation.  Clever boy.

Friday the thirteenth musings

The new yarn which caused me to fawn all over the postman is this:

Nothing terribly exciting, I grant you, but exciting in so far as that I can now crack on with THE singularly most exciting thing to happen to any crafter - starting a new project.  There is nothing to beat that feeling of choosing new supplies, the joy in laying them out ready to feast upon.... I've said it before, and I'll say it again, oh frrrrabjous day.

I also had the brilliant foresight to order this:

which allowed me to make an informed choice on my next order.  Yes, dear SIL, you will note that 'saffron' and 'sunshine' are, indeed, not the same colour at all.  You owe me £1.50. 

I have another purple-y shade to add to this which should arrive tomorrow.  Via a very nervous postman one shouldn't wonder heh heh heh.  I am starting a new ripple blanket for my niece's birthday.  It is in August, so I have plenty of time (kiss of death).  Apparently she likes purple and black.  She is going to be 7.  Or 8.  Or some such age, and I reckon that a ripple in varying stripes of purples, black and cream could grow with her.  Probably.  Possibly.  Who cares, I'll enjoy the journey.

This afternoon Oliver asked me to join in an XBox game with him - Star Wars Lego something or other.  He must have been desperate because I am so seriously embarrassingly crap at managing the controls that it must be painful for him to play against.  He popped in the disc, the game began and our subsequent conversation went a bit like this:

'so what buttons do I use then?'
'OK, A is for jump, X is for shooting, and B is for your inventory'
'An inventory of what?'
'weapons'
'what, so I have a choice of stuff?'
'yeah, press B, press B, PRESS B NOW'

A circle of undecipherable icons popped up on my side of the screen at at this point.  I panicked and chose the first one which was highlighted.  Nothing happened.

'It didn't work, it didn't work'
'it did - look, it's being built'

The chosen weapon (some cannon thing) was indeed appearing before my very eyes in lego blocks on the screen. 

'how do I use it?'
'you have to get in it'
'IN it? how?'
'press Y'

Suffice to say I started losing interest very rapidly.  The game seemed to be progressing at a ridiculously fast pace, I was being blown into small bits of lego quite frequently and running round inside a purple force field in circles.  Although I probably shouldn't be, I am impressed with Oliver's ability to manage all these different functions at the same time without his eyeballs exploding. 

Today was Oliver's annual judo course at Ladram Bay.  Normally I just drop him off first thing and bugger off to Exmouth for a charity shop trawl for 3 hours, but now, with the fear of plunging blood sugar levels, I felt I should stay and administer glucose at regular intervals.  Good job I did, because exercise seems to affect him quite severely, and I spent most of today pumping him full of energy drinks and dextrose tablets.  It so goes against my principles to be advocating the copious consumption of bright blue powerade.  Sigh.  Spoken to the hospital, and tomorrow we will be reducing his insulin to keep his levels a bit higher.  Worry, worry, worry. 

And finally....

Me boys playing Scrabble.  A PC version which I am highly suspicious of, as it uses 'the official Scrabble players dictionary', or as I like to call it 'the made up words for Scrabble cheating dictionary.'  This 'dictionary' seems to be full of words which are at best complete bollocks.  This game contained the words 'rax' and 'quaid'.  Yeah. 

Even if they are real words, they shouldn't be.

So there.

Here endeth the lesson.