lead

I've really been missing posting here. I've still been taking pictures of the things I've been making, doing, seeing, but I can't find my camera lead to upload them. And it's not the same without images is it... I miss sharing the pictures here, the process of sorting through, looking again at the books and boxes I've made, the experiments, details, seeds planted. Gathering my thoughts and writing them down. There's something about this process that I find so useful, both in the middle of making and afterwards, almost like taking a step away, to look and think about what's been done, what worked, what could be better... the thoughts are never quite concrete in my head, as much as they seem to be, until I think about how to write them down. And if I don't pin them down they slip away. It probably seems obvious...

I've got a clamshell box to show you, A3, with inlayed text. And a set of three stacking trays (which all fit together, and I was very surprised indeed!) A sock elephant and some new soft cover books, not to mention the pea shoots coming up in the garden. As soon as I find the lead for the camera (as soon as I can unpack!) I'll be here...

nearly.

I still haven't unpacked any of the big brown boxes waiting in the attic and cupboards and in creaking piles in the corners of rooms, haven't lifted the dust sheets. So I still haven't found my camera lead and all the photos of the new stove and the tiles in the bathroom are stuck on my camera for now...

I haven't done any sewing or knitting or bookmaking for fun for over a month now. All my time is spoken for, which is good, but pictures are swirling round my head, ideas for books and prints and drawings. Bird feet.

‘Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you possess and thankfully remember how you would crave them if they were not yours.’

Marcus Aurelius 170AD

It's been a while.

I'm sat in the garden (my garden!) and inside the house a however-many foot long steel pipe is being removed, bit by heavy bit, and a slightly wider (more expensive) pipe is being installed so that tomorrow I may, just may, have a wood burning stove. And the last time I went inside there was a thin layer of dirty black soot over ever surface and I'm expecting it to be slightly thicker the next time I check.

So the dust hasn't gone just quite yet. But it's all good really.

The garden is full of plants. Geraniums and poppys and hydrangeas and forget-me-nots and pansies. All the kind of things that survive the slow neglect of a few years in the garden of an empty house. All the tiny flowerbeds and pathways and stones overgrown with dandelions and violets and unidentified orange flowers. Bricks and concrete. Sycamore trees.

I met the man who found the old lady when she died in this house. I hope she'd like us.

Hopefully all the dust will disappear soon.

new house

I don't even know where to start. I feel like this house has picked me up and carried me along. A whirlwind. In the last two weeks since we've had the keys we have... stripped all the wall paper and scrubbed the walls free of bits of lumpy paste, shifted all the smelly carpets and net curtains, destroyed the white and gold fitted wardrobe and hacked off the brown flowery bathroom tiles, started to clear the garden of dead stuff and bricks, (identified plants to keep; peonys, forgetmenots, periwinkle, roses) chipped off all the polystyrene ceiling tiles (polystyrene ceiling tiles! Why?) and the electrician has finnished ripping out the old wiring and replacing it with shiny new (safe) stuff...

That was week one.

This week we have removed the bathroom (only half a toilet remains... don't ask!) and strippped the plaster back to the brick. What we thought was a bathroom wall turned out to be a doorway blocked up with bits of nailed together wood. Out that came. A new wall was built and a fresh smooth layer of plaster all over the bathroom is drying as we speak. What we thought was a flimsy old aluminum heating vent that runs throughout the house turns out to contain a very solid indeed steel pipe which no amount of hammering will shift (and we'll solve that one later). The plumber has replaced the old boiler with a lovely efficient new one, and moved it to the side of the house to make more room in the kitchen. All the radiators have been replaced and are just waiting to be connected up on Saturday.

Then we moved in. Hmmm.

So now all our furniture and all our stuff is in boxes in the living room because the celings have to be plastered upstairs (again, polystyrene celing tiles, why?) I can't find my clothes and our mattres is wrapped in a tarpaulin. I just keep telling myself that this time next week it will be better (surely!)

And I'll post some pictures when I find my camera lead, it's in a box somewhere ;)

notes

I always like to have a note book with me. In fact I normally have more than one, in my pocket, in my bag. Note books for lists of things to do, things to buy (usually tinned tomatoes) things to look at, note books for ideas and things to make, thoughts.


Perhaps this makes me sound more organised than I actually am though. Things get written in all sorts of places, and sometimes I think I should just have one big notebook to capture everything...


But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of picking out books to use... big, tiny; soft cover, hard cover, ring bound; smooth paper, rough paper, elasticated closure...


These little books are for notes I think (or for thoughts. or for drawings of birds?) Soft paper cover, screen printed with feathers in greys and dark blues. 20 pages of various recycled papers, cream, white speckled. Each one is unique. I like little note books.


(and don't get me started on pens...)