Introducing Father Priest

We recently bought a picture missal for our little boy to begin following the mass and while he's still more interested in playing with cars, shouting and climbing over the pews, he does sometimes look at the pictures and he likes to point out the priest. Thinking about what other things we could do to help him participate a little in the mass, I thought that a priest doll could be a really fun tool and I realised that with a little ingenuity I could make one. So I did!

I made a mock up first to figure out the pattern (I made 3 practice heads before I decided on the final shape) he's still kicking around the house lovingly known as Father Priest mark 1. Then it was a case of cutting head and hands from an off white scrap of cotton and body legs and arms from a black wool skirt that had felted in the wash. A white collar and some facial features from felt completed the basic doll.

I had great fun making his vestments. In time I plan to make all the liturgical colours but so far we're just ready for ordinary time. I've made the white alb, green stole from some ribbon and the green chasuble (one fat quarter was the perfect fit 😄) all hand stitched because I love to make extra work for myself and hate lugging the sewing machine around the house. Next on the to do list: purple for Lent.

User feedback so far has ranged from "He's got a cute face" to "I don't want Farva Pwiest" via "he's a bright balloon." So I'm going to say mixed. The baby definitely likes him though - he giggles at him and then tries to eat his head.

Welcoming the New Year

We certainly aren't the only ones to have had a difficult year in 2016. We have been struggling with unemployment. In so many ways we have found ourselves discouraged over the past year. For me personally, this has been difficult to cope with spiritually. At various times I have felt disappointment, fear, a lack of faith and a failure of hope. It has been hard to keep praying.

When you are praying for the same intercession over such a long time, with no sign of an answer you start to question yourself, to doubt God's love. People tend to suggest that perhaps what you're asking for is not what God wills for you and for a while, I let that idea get to me. I could never believe though, that with two young children to care for that the Lord willed for us to be without the means to support ourselves. Didn't he say to us 7 “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened."? (Matt 7)
Didn't he give practical help to the blind and the lame? Hasn't he, through the intercessions of the saints, answered two thousand years worth of prayers and more? 

So at last I came to the realisation that I had only one choice: to believe. I had to know for sure that God would answer our prayers and trust in him to sustain us in our wait. 

At last, our prayers were answered, and in such a way that we could be in no doubt that God was in it. We will both go into the new year employed by the same University in roles that suit our backgrounds. My husband's job offer even came on the same day of his graduation - and his name day. 

I continue to pray, now that we can make a success of this opportunity we have been given. And to praise the Lord for his goodness, For the concern he shows for all his little ones, even in my own life. 

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour"

And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not

To all my friends, and anyone who reads this post, I wish you all the blessings of Christmas. I pray that your heart will know the glory of the incarnation on this holy day. With love, Naomi

Incarnation - The coming of God, the light, into his own creation, causing everything within to shine his reflected glory. 

My free time in October was dedicated to stitching the piece above, a meditation on the idea of incarnation.

In November, I spent every spare minute preparing for a craft fair that I organised with a few friends at my Dad's church (what do you do when you can't find a craft fair to sell at on the weekend you want? Organise your own!) We had lots of fun, and the parishioners at St John's in Crowborough were so welcoming. My talented friends ,Emma Wyton - Amazing illustrator, Caroline Armour - Crochet to the stars and Lauren Hawes - textile designer of incredible precision, put on a wonderful show... and if you're interested, we all take commissions!

I'm not ready

I'm not ready for kids
     Not ready to hand over my house
     To the mess and the grime and the slime of
          kids.
     Or to quit climbing my mountains
     To spend my time on
          kids.
     Not ready to lose my relationship
     In the stress and the hurry and hustle of
          kids.
     I'm not ready for the responsibility of
          kids,
     Or to lose myself for
          kids.
I'm not ready for kids.
     Not ready to fill my house with the
     Tears and giggles and hugs of
          kids.
     Not ready to be amazed at every
     car or dog or lamppost like
          kids,
     Or to watch my husband bloom into Dad
     when he's with our
          kids.
     I'm not ready to become a new
     a better person for my
          kids.
I'm not ready for kids
But tell me, who is?

Praying out Loud

I found myself today surrounded by my toddler (can you be surrounded by one person? Yes, when they're two and a half feet tall, charging about and destroying your living room, yes you can.) He was busy overturning the dining chairs and dismantling my armchair, and in the middle of it I was reciting out loud the words of the novena to Christ the King.

Oh by the way, there's this really cool thing:

praymorenovenas.com

It reminds you to pray novenas.

Occasionally, I had to pause to say something along the lines of "No, please don't hit the baby" or "OUCH!" or "ARGGGGGHHHH GET THE CHAIR OFF MY FOOT!" 

I could think: what good is any of this? I'm not really concentrating on the prayers, I'm not giving my son all the attention he wants. He's certainly not interested in praying. It is tempting to see it this way, and to just give up. 

But I chose to pray in that moment. I offered that moment to God because it was all that I had to give. All I have to give, one baby boy who smiles and screams, one little boy who spreads chaos as a matter of routine. All I have to give, a head full of worries and a trepidatious heart. I have to hand over the hoovering and the laundry and the tears I wipe from faces and the play doh apples that I'm ordered to make and the stories I read and the nappies I change and all the love I have for my little family. I give what I have and in so doing I find that I am rich. 

And for my son too the prayer time matters, we are trying to get him used to God. He makes the sign of the cross - even if he does get it a little mixed up with head, shoulders, knees and toes. He can point out Mummy Mary and St Joseph and Jesus when we go to church. We light a candle together - having to remind him that we should not blow it out because Jesus might like to look at it later. He can almost say Amen. He has a lot to learn, but we can only start with little steps. 

So I'll carry on praying out loud and I hope that the Lord will hear me over the din. And I'll keep making baby steps towards my God. If I am ever going to reach him, I must be like a child. I must be more like my little ones, and they make baby steps. My little ones have a lot to learn, but so do I. 

Travels with a Toddler - Lake District

In late October we travelled up to the Lake District for a weekend with old friends. Having left it late to book, as we usually do, our best choice for low cost family accommodation was YHA Hawkshead. Hawkshead is a lovely youth hostel housed in a grand old Regency style house across the water from Ambleside. Our room was in the main part of the house, and we had wonderful views over Esthwaite Water and out to the mountains.

Staying all together in one room was never going to be the easiest option with a 2 year old and a 2 month old and we learnt on the first night that for our older boy to go to sleep distraction had to be kept to a minimum. In the traditional youth hostels like this one, there is always somewhere to go aside from your own dorm or room, so I made use of the quiet lounge to feed the little one and get on with some needlework while Andy settled the larger one (with much difficulty).

Our days were magical, the toddler loved exploring the countryside (read throwing pebbles/rocks/sticks into lakes/streams/puddles). The autumn colours were absolutely splendid and transformed the countryside into a glittering jewellery box. By the second day I was growing tired of having to gasp in awe every time we turned round a bend in the car.

We visited friends at the National Trust campsite in Langdale - the same one the toddler and I stayed at last year, and had a barbeque - all the other campers were terribly jealous. We walked around Tarn Hows on the wonderfully buggy-friendly trail, discovering a herd of cows, a money tree and some of the most postcard worthy views in Cumbria. We strolled around Ambleside, and I thanked God for the friendly local library where I could retreat to feed the little one without having to buy yet another coffee - it's a hard life!

We rounded off the weekend with a visit to Grisedale, exploring some of their more accessible adventure options. The walk from the visitor centre down some mountain bike trails to Wood Moss Tarn was certainly a buggy adventure with some rough-ish paths and undulating terrain through the woods. Then the short accessible loop around the woods near the outdoor education centre proved a wonderful activity for everyone as we were able to appreciate some of the gorgeous sculptures that have been installed there. In certain places the trees have been turned into music boxes that play a pretty tune when you wind them up - can there be anything more magical?

All in all we had a fantastic weekend with our friends and were able to provide a taste of adventure for our little boys in a stunning environment. I relished the opportunity to take some landscape photographs as you will see below...

The accessible trail at Grisedale

In the woods at Grisedale on the way to Wood Moss Tarn

A view over Tarn Hows

Part of the path at Tarn Hows - with herd of picturesque cows loitering in the background

Resplendent autumn colours at a fork in the path

Tarn Hows posing area

The Miraculous Wedding - Breastfeeding in a Bridesmaids Dress

Three years ago, the morning after our wedding, I received a text message from my friend Rachel asking for my new brother-in-law's number. In that moment, I was a little nervous, if this worked out, it would be a dream, if not, I could spend every Christmas in the company of the man who broke my best friend's heart. Gradually it emerged from other guests that the two of them had barely spent a moment apart on that wedding day, while we were celebrating getting married, they were falling in love.

It didn't take long for Rachel to assimilate into the family, they were committed right from the start. Everyone who knew them was sure that they'd be married one day. So when in February, Rachel called from their skiing holiday in France, there was no doubt as to what had happened. Atop a mountain, in the snow, Martin had got down on one knee.

She had asked me to be her Matron of Honour long before they were engaged, I had said 'Yes but I'll probably be pregnant'. When she asked again during that (slghtly hysterical) phone call we figured out that I wouldn't be pregnant, but I would have a young baby by then, so I would be breastfeeding.

It turns out it would have been easier if I had been pregnant. Breastfeeding and bridesmaids dresses don't mix!

We searched all over for a dress that looked formal and pretty that would allow me to feed, and we found a grand total of nothing. When the search was exhausted I summed up the courage and offered to make something.

My plan was to make a V neck dress out of stretch fabric that would allow access, then, since I can't stand to be seen in a V neck, create a lacy crop top that could be worn loose over it.

So, I thought, if I'm making my own dress, and we want somethng that matches - I should probably make the other two as well...

Our mood board

I make no claim to be an expert in dressmaking, I am a competent seamstress at best. However, by keeping it simple and sticking to what I know works, I managed to design and make the three dresses. Each of them was a little different: sleeves here, a different neckline there. Each consisted of a basic stretch dress and a simple lace cover up. By the time I was finishing the dresses I was at the machine with a newborn on my lap - now theres an experience I'll never forget!

Rachel chose bright autumnal colours for us and allowed us each to wear what suited our shape and colouring. As a result, I think we made a stunning group. The whole day was a fairytale, from the flowers to the ceilidh dancing, but the real fairytale for me was that I gained my best friend as a sister (let's drop the -in-law.)

Oh and the dress was perfect for feeding, easy access and a built in cover. Super comfortable too!

Sarah, Hannah and I in our completed dresses 

Sourdough - simplicity

I started a new sourdough this week. People might think sourdough is complicated or difficult but in my experience it is neither, I've found it really simple and forgiving. The other day, I took a clean yogurt pot, put in a spoonful of yogurt, a spoonful of flour and enough tepid water to make it a batter-like consistency. Then I (wrestled it out of the grasp of my little boy who wanted to eat it) put a bit of kitchen roll over it and set it aside. The next day I mixed in some flour and water, and the next day I mixed in some flour and water.... and so on. When it split, I mixed it up again. When it started to look nice and bubbly after about 5 days I knew it was ready! 

To make bread with it I use about 2 parts sourdough to 3 parts flour, a few shakes of salt, a spoonful of sugar (a la Mary Poppins) and enough water to make a dough. I often dribble in some olive oil but it's not essential. The only difference to using yeast is that it takes longer to rise. So you mix it in the morning, prove all day, then shape it in the evening to bake later. 

Oh it makes good bread... 

All right, this loaf came out a little wonky... tastes good though!

And in the end it's just a matter of flour and water... To my mind it couldn't be simpler. 

When you've got your starter going you just feed it some flour and water each day and make whatever you want out of it. If you want it lower maintenance you keep it in the fridge and feed it every few days. I hear you can even freeze it. A goldfish is more work than that and you don't get any bread from a goldfish. And if you get fed up with sourdough you can just throw it away... Unlike the goldfish. A goldfish is for life. 

What if I did that with Love?

1If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,^a but have not love, I gain nothing.

We heard this reading from 1 Corinthians Chapter 13 at a wedding last week, and the priest exhorted us to do everything - even or perhaps especially the most mundane things of life - with love. This is the question I have been asking myself over the past week. If I am called to do everything 'with love' how do I go about it. What does it look like to order my day 'with love', how do I do the washing up 'with love', how do I chastise a naughty toddler 'with love'?

Another question has been haunting me recently too, this one arising in a book I was reading (I must admit now, the book bored me and got thrown across the room never to be finished soon after reading this particular quote)

And suddenly, in the middle of the central nave, I realize something very important: the cathedral is me, it is all of us. We are all growing and changing shape, we notice certain weaknesses that need to be corrected, we don't always choose the best solutions, but we carry on regardless, trying to remain upright and decent, in order to do honor not to the walls or the doors or the windows, but to the empty space inside, the space where we worship and venerate what is dearest and most important to us.

― Paulo Coelho, The Zahir

I have been asking myself what or who I put at the centre of my 'cathedral'. Is the inner sanctum of my cathedral reserved, as I would like to think it is, for Christ? Or does my metaphorical cathedral contain nothing more than an engorged and hideous graven image of myself?

Perhaps the two questions come together thus. Christ asks me to perform every action with love. Seeing Christ in all people around me and relating to God in my life of prayer, when my actions honour God, either in prayer or in helping others then I am acting with love. When I centre my life on Christ I cannot help but act with love. When I act with love, I cannot disentangle my life from Christ.

So in the last week, I have been trying more consciously to order my day with moments of prayer, moments to appreciate the people around me and time to practise the gifts that I have been given, knowing that writing and craftwork are calming to my soul because God made me this way. I have been washing up with a willing heart, banishing the tempting thought of resentment - 'Why should I have to wash up from breakfast and lunch' - and making an effort to notice and be grateful when my husband does the chores. I have been trying to calm myself when the little boy is misbehaving so as not to discipline him from a spirit of anger, but with the clear motive of correction.

Still, it's hard work and I haven't managed any of that quite yet. I'm still quite often a noisy gong and a clashing cymbal. But I'm working on it.

A Thought on Trinity Sunday

The Trinity is a mystery, just as it should be. God himself is beyond the perception of man, only through his own revelation can we know about him, only through relationship can we know him. Therefore analogising the Trinity seems to have fallen out of favour since the time of St Patrick, any analogy will fall short. But if we know that to begin with, can we not use an analogy as a starting place to meditate on the truth that God reveals of himself?

I'm sure this analogy has been hashed and rehashed and taken apart many times before, but the one that caught my attention this Trinity Sunday was the idea of light as shown through a prism. The light is one, both before passing through and after, but the prism reveals distinct colours in the light. For me then, the prism represented God's revelation of himself. He reveals himself in three distinct persons while always remaining One. The light loses nothing by being viewed through the prism, each of the colours remains what it always was, radience, but each shows to the onlooker something about the light. God is whole in each of the persons of the Trinity, not a part of a whole, but a whole, but showing himself in three guises, each adds in abundance to the glory of the Unity.

My mother loves to hang crystals at the East facing window at home - call her Pollyanna - in the morning the room is filled with rainbow colours. When the children are visiting she will climb up and spin the crystals, the room becomes a sunrise disco of dancing light and colour. God is so much more than any analogy could ever tell of him, but in a room of light and colour like that it is hard to miss the wonder of radience that he has built into our world. 

Christ is the light of the world, and light brings colour. Am I allowed to meditate on God through this analogy of light and colour?

Reflecting 19/05/16

Today I followed the Liturgy of the Hours for the first time in a long time. It did me a lot of good, but there were two lines in particular that stood out to me and felt very personal. 

From Psalm 126

They wept as they went, went with seed for the sowing;

but with joy they will come, come bearing the sheaves

There has been a lot of weeping lately. We're still waiting for someone to take a chance on offering us a job. We're sowing now, planting seeds that we're not sure will grow, that we think won't grow, but we have no choice but to continue. I had never understood why the sowing of seeds would involve sadness. I now know it's the sadness of uncertainty, fear, anxiety. It's the space where hope should fit, and sometimes does not. But there, in the next line is the promise: they will reap with joy. And the sweetness of the crop will be enhanced by the bitterness of the sowing. There will be a harvest because God does not abandon his people. I must try to feel like I haven't been abandoned. 

From Isaiah 40

Like a shepherd he feeds his flock,

  he gathers the lambs in his arms and lifts them to his breast;

  he carries the pregnant ewes.

The good shepherd extends his utmost tenderness to the pregnant ewes. This touched a pregnant lady's soul. The good shepherd cares well for his pregnant ewe, and the good Lord will not abandon me.

It was all going so well...

and then my laptop died. This is why I haven't written in ages! But I'm up and running again with a new set up and plan to show you all the craft work I've been doing over the last few months and write down some of the strange thoughts that have been floating through my head.

For now though here are a few teaser images to give you an idea of what I've been up to.

Cushion Covers Galore!

I couldn't resist buying and embellishing some more cushion covers. The simplest was the blue and white 'sampler' design, I used a stitch directory and worked various stitches in lines across the cover. I love how gentle and simple it looks as a design. The large rose motif was probably the most challenging, but it was interesting to work with a knitting yarn,  it has produced a lovely soft surface on the satin stitch. I have already written about the 'doodle' cushion at the top here. Safe to say that it's all about bright colours and varying stitches.




Cushion covers are such a nice thing to work on, they immediately add a touch of individuality to a room and they are just the right size for a striking design. It's special too to have something that has been hand made, these all took a lot of time and consideration, and I hope it shows in the final product. I'm sure it won't be long before I succumb to the temptation to get hold of another one to work on. It seems, though, that our cushion quota is almost filled so I might need to rehome some before they start to breed again.




I'd love to actually sell some of these, so if you might be interested in some one of a kind homewares please let me know and we can discuss a custom order or you could even purchase one of these... I can produce these for between £25 - £40 depending on the style and requirements
.





You can contact me via the contact page on here if you'd like, or leave a comment and I'll get back to you as swiftly as I can. I do hope you like these designs, I'd love to know what you think!

Travels with a toddler: The Cotswold Motoring Museum

The Cotswolds in early autumn was resplendent. Bright, warm colours, quaint village scenes, golden willow boughs bending to brush the water of rushing streams and all the other bucolic autumnal things you can imagine. Jem and I arrived in the village of Bourton-on-the-Water imagining that it would be a little known, pretty little village - we were wrong! This pretty little village was certainly not unknown to the coachloads of visitors from home and abroad. I had already found that in this part of the world everyone seems to drive 10mph slower than anywhere else, but now, I was actually mainly moving at 0mph to avoid maiming the innocent tourists who had to stand in the very middle of the narrow village road in order to get the perfect selfie. (To be quite fair we did the exact same thing a couple of hours later and I would heartily recommend it.) The thing about being a tourist in autumn is that sometimes you find yourself to be the only visitor to a place, and, while that sounds ideal, I actually find it pretty awkward. Anyway, I took the crowds of visitors as nothing but a good sign.

We had come to meet up with my old friend Emma and to visit the Cotswold Motoring Museum. Emma and I both felt a little silly that we - the girls - would be visiting a car museum without our partners, but there was something about Brum on the publicity material so we couldn't miss it.

Naturally, though being in a pretty little village with probably the highest concentration of tearooms per square mile I've ever seen, we decided that we simply must go for tea before and after. People, you haven't lived until you've sipped tea and eaten a smoked salmon sandwich while surrounded by pretty mismatched vintage crockery and furniture. Even Jem loved it - and he's not one for sitting around while I sip tea.

The motoring museum was amazing. This has to be one of the most interesting, well put together and one of the most fun museums I have ever been to. It is crammed full of exhibits documenting not only the motor cars but also the wider culture and social history of the 20th century. Some of the assets have been meticulously restored so as to be spotless. Others are displayed approximately 'as found' which allows the visitor to see something of the backstory. Many of the exhibits are shown with stories about who used them - some written by the owners themselves. Besides cars there were motorbikes, motoring accessories, bicycles, signage, the list could go on. We even saw actual Brum - Emma was somewhat starstruck. I cannot do justice in writing to how much of a treasure trove this is. The best part for Jem was that not only does the museum include a toy collection, but it has an adorable little play area, including a play-garage and a chance to drive Brum!

Having exhausted ourselves in the museum we retreated to another tearoom, where over tea and cake I managed to become Emma's first customer. Emma is an artist and has recently started offering drawings on commission. She made me two pieces, one of Jem and I together, that she drew from a photo on my phone, and another of Jem taken from life. I've had them framed now, and I think they're absolutely incredible. This is her professional facebook page - please check it out and give her a 'like'.

So in conclusion, I would like to move to Bourton-on-the-Water.

Apologies that you can see me in the reflection - but doesn't he look cute?!

Participating

Church can be difficult at the moment. With a one-year-old who likes to squirm, screech, thunder around, climb the pews and harass other children, sometimes there aren't enough books or raisins in the world (let alone my bag) to keep him calm enough for me to focus. We have to compromise a little. Sometimes I can't listen fully to the readings or the sermon because I have to take him out and calm him down. Sometimes I can't kneel throughout the Eucharistic prayer as I'd like because he needs my attention. Sometimes I can't concentrate and pray because I have to help him read his book.

Even without a toddler to deal with, it can be hard to participate fully. Everyone has things on their mind, worries and distractions that can take the mind off in another direction. Sometimes we can't share in the sacrament for the knowledge that there is sin in our lives. Even though I know that I have no choice but to continue looking after my son, even when I am at Mass, it can make me feel inadequate.

But there is one moment that I know I can participate in fully, even from the back of church chasing Jem around, even when I should have gone to confession, even when I've lost concentration during the prayers, even when I've already forgotten what the sermon was about.

Kneeling, the congregation repeats the words said by a centurion beseeching Christ to heal his servant:

"Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof," and we continue "but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed."

Thus, we make a final act of contrition before receiving Christ in the bread and wine, we acknowledge not only our unworthiness, but Christ's love and mercy. They are words for the sinner. 

We do not go to Mass because we deserve the sacraments. We do not approach Jesus perfect. We turn to him, and beg him to approach us. Sinners.

I once wrote a couple of lines about this: 

How can I stand here before you? - a sinner

Yet it is us whom you call - sinners all

Rosy and the Lily

Rosy held her ice-cream in one hand and reached out with the other to touch the wall. The stone her hand found was different from the others, smooth and white. Tiny grey cracks navigated across the surface. The stone curved away gently as she ran her fingers over it; it was somehow soft. It made her think of a person. A picture fused together in her mind: a young man with reddish hair and shining blue eyes. He stopped, out of breath and looked at her. 

William was panting. He could feel the evening shadows creeping up his back as he crossed the cobbled town square. He could sense in the tingling cold that the church bell was about to chime. A nervous feeling welled up in his somach, but he pushed it sown again. Even if he was late, she was worth it. He ran towards the shrinking blue sky.

Glancing up the hill, he could see, just rising through the treetops, the smoking chimneys of home. Mother and Father must be dressing for dinner, if he could sneak in through the servants' hall they might never know - Annie could be trusted to keep him right, she was her best friend. 

Even while he was running he found a moment to close his eyes and he thought of her face - his Lily-girl. He could feel so intensely the sway of her hair against his skin. The warmth that radiated from her whan she smiled and the peace of knowing that she was waiting for him, that she had promised to wait. If he hadn't been running, he would have leapt for joy. 

The river, as he came close to it, whispered in tones as low and soft as Lily's. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and watch the orange sparkle of the setting sun on the water. His hands pushed off from the warm stone walls as he took off again, smiling to himself. "What's the harm in telling them tonight," he thought "they'll come around. They'll have to."

His feet, in thin leather boots thumped painfully on the cobbles. A memory flashed through his mind. A cart and two horses, crashing, breaking, falling. Just as it formed into a thought, he felt his ankle give way beneath him. He stumbled on the uneven surface and grappled with the turbulent ground as he tumbled over and over and through the break in the wall where the horses had fallen to their deaths. He saw the shallow rapids rushing towards him.

A clear film of water flowed over William's face. There was barely any blood, just a single trickle dissipated into the brook. When the grocer found him he said that he looked as peaceful as an alabaster tomb. 

Rosy felt an icy trickle on her hand. She looked down. The ice-cream was melting away. She hurried it to her lips but before she could bring it close enough the pink scoop slid off the cone and landed with a splat. For a moment she watched as pink streams formed and meandered in the gullies between the cobbles. Then all of a sudden she began to wail. "Daddy! It fell!" Her eyes filled with tears.

She felt his strong arm around her. He lifted her up until she could see over the wall to the river below.

"Poor Rosy-girl. You have to eat it quickly, see?" He said holding up a half finished cone of mint-choc-chip . But the girl's attention was elsewhere. On the wall at the side of the bridge lay a perfect white bloom. A single lily.



A friend gave me a challenge to write a short story containing the following objects: a lily, a skull and an ice-cream cone. It was difficult to find a way to put all of those things together while keeping to my own style, but eventually, it sparked an idea which in the end I really loved. The process was lots of fun, and hopefully you've enjoyed the end result. I'd love to try another challenge, similar to this or different, let me know in the comments if you have any suggestions. If you liked this story, you might like my book - available on amazon kindle (you only need a browser or smartphone to read it) anyway the ad is on the right.

Travels with a Toddler: Knole Park

A young stag nibbles at a branch - with such elegance

A couple of weeks ago, along with a group of family members including three toddlers (!) Andy, Jem and I visited the National Trust Property at Knole Park in Sevenoakes. The house was originally an Archbishop's palace and is home to some stunning artefacts including some incredibly ornate textiles, an impressive collection of historical portraits, unique pieces of furniture, porcelain... I could go on - it's breathtaking. The house, though is dwarfed by its surroundings, a medieval deer park that stretches on for miles - or at least much further than we could ever have walked that day!

The grounds are really the star attraction, deer that are so tame that they pose for photographs, picturesque views that make you forget that you're right by the center of town. We loved exploring outside, I had a ball taking photographs of the deer - I'm not sure everyone was so pleased to wait around for me.

Going there with little children was not a problem so long as we were willing to make some small sacrifices. Inside the house we were asked to swap our baby carrier - we had a frame carrier (like a large backpack) for a soft carrier, they had plenty to lend out but if I had realised in advance I probably would have been more comfortable using my own. We chose a beautiful autumn day to make our visit, so the weather was not a consideration and there are some easy paths outside for buggies - naturally none of our little ones wanted to spend much time in the buggy. Jem would tell you that the paths were crawlable but slow going!

I hope you enjoy these few pictures. Let me know what you think - feel free to leave a comment.

This stately stag was caught napping, but
obliged me by surveying his kingdom

Posing for his close up

Chimneyscape

Probably my favourite image from the day, a young stag in the bracken.

Beginning to Weave...

I've found a new obsession! Weaving fascinates me, it's not only design and use of colour, there's a geometry and underlying - almost subconscious - mathematics to it that is causing an addiction. I am enjoying working different patterns and shapes to find out what I can create.

I found a great tutorial that was really helpful in going through the basic techniques (and essentially - the vocabulary) and asked my father-in-law to help me make a loom based on the instructions there (basically some nails in a board). His idea though, was to make a loom bigger and better than I could have asked for, so I now have this beautiful oak peg loom with copper pins, on which I have so far completed about three decorative pieces and have already started the next.

It was only after I had commissioned my loom and started my experimentation that my own Dad said "Oh you're interested in weaving, would you like a loom?" It turns out he has been holding onto the loom that my Gran used when she learnt to weave. It's bigger and more complex than my own, so I'll have to spend some time researching how to use it.

I'll be taking my first weaving class this week, I can't wait to find out more about this timeless craft.

Adventures in weaving - from prep through working on the loom to finished article

Blog Redesign

You might notice some changes to my blog - OK, it's quite obvious, I've changed the name, and the background etc. This is linked with a plan to change the content somewhat. Instead of having two blogs, one for craft and the other for writing, I'm merging them together hence the title: Words and Patterns. I plan to write a lot more besides - book reviews, lifestyle posts, updates on my little boy, photography etc. that wouldn't have fit in well before.

There are a lot of changes going on in my life at the moment. Along with Andrew and Jem I've moved out of St Andrews down to Kenilworth in Warwickshire to stay with family until Andrew finds a job. I am once again a stay-at-home Mum and feeling very lucky to be spending this precious time with my boy. Speaking of the boy, he just turned one, and had three first birthday parties to mark the occasion. I think he might be a little confused, but the main thing is that we all ate a lot of cake!

I've been trying out some new craft ideas, my facebook friends will have seen glimpses already, but I'm planning some posts soon to show what I've been up to. Eventually, I'm hoping to become a work-at-home Mum, and use some of the creative skills I've been developing to start a small business.

Keep on the look out for posts in the near future, I've a lot to tell you about!

What is this Life?

I saw a wonderful thing

 

And reached for my phone

 

But it wasn't there

 

So I stood and stared

 

At the heron in the tree

 

On my own.