Return of the prodigal blogger...

A significant period of time has passed since I was last here. Twas never meant to be that way - it just evolved. Summer visited with vengence - forcing all ex-pats to flee the stinging heat. A flurry of activity in the old country. Some happy occurrances and some sad and unexpected events. This is life. It strikes whether we are strong or vulnerable, rich or poor. The beauty of it all is its cyclic nature and reassurance that if we are down, we must surely come up - and vice versa.


My greatest joy, after the summer exodus, was to discover that I am happy where I am. This may not be my location of choice. I may not have the privileges experienced and taken for granted in my previous life. But...I am happy. What a huge relief it was to feel and say it out loud. The return to my old life - for a few short weeks (which actually felt quite long) provided time for observation and reflection. Life, lived unconsciously, isn't as it seems. I'm awake now. And I'm so very grateful for all that is true in my life.

Agenda...

Item one - withdrawal from Every Day in May challenge.

I tried. I tried for at least...oooh, four days. Or was that four posts. Anyway, it all became too hard. The scanner made me madder than a crazy lady in a bee hive. Where on earth did that come from??? Oh well, it's working for me. So, being mad AND being very busy just didn't support the EVERY Day in May challenge. So this is my letter of withdrawal. Without penalty.

Item two - things I love

I wanted to share some of the beautiful things I love. The things that keep me from true insanity. Not the insanity I suffer each day that is really easily overcome by a sumptuous ball of wall or a tantalising fibre to mould, fold, stitch and stretch. No, the true insanity is kept away from mamma's door by the little things I love.
Such as...



my favourite flowers...
























finding floaty, wispy spiders webs all over my lawn...
















or Jack Frost on the hairy plane window...


















Ah yes, these are a few of the things I love. I love sanity too! Sometimes.

Item three - travel

Feet are itching. Passports are located. Car possibly being returned after going through the registration process today. The last item on today's agenda is the possiblity of a magnificient retreat to Muscat. Only two days. It's not much but it is so very needed. Omani border, here we come!

Trying to run...

It's official folks, I have that dreadful complaint where one attempts great feats before one has even accomplished the first step. In my case, it's trying to get fancy with watercolour when I haven't even learnt the basics of it. And let's not forget that I really should just be focussing on my sketching skills. Perspective is off. My eye, brain and hand don't seem to want to co-ordinate. But that's ok. I may have hair trigger enthusiasm and a dash of eager daring but I also have patience. I think. Hmm, actually how about we wait and see about that last one.


Today's sketch was drawn looking out a different window in my home - the vista I enjoy while blogging and taking care of all things admin. In the near distance is the water, which is very calming. Then I see the houses on the opposite side of the water - pretty much what I sketched in the first pen and wash. It's quite a relaxing view - as long as you don't mind the lack of greenery. I miss the colour green. I miss the enormous gums in my garden at home. I can't wait to be reunited with it again in July.

Trouble at the scanner...yet again!

I admit. This is shoddy beyond belief. I'm having MAJOR issues with my scan and save facility. Or perhaps it's just that I haven't got a clue what I'm doing.

Still having to go via Mr's laptop but can only save to a few programmes. One of which is Word. I then have to convert that to another format - and that's when the games really begin. So, this is the farthest I've got today - and this is with yesterday's sketch. Gee...shish kebab! It's enough to make a girl give up on 'Every Day in May'.

Anyhoo...this sketch was done at the kids school yesterday. From the distance the building looks like a giant wave, hovering in the desert. It's very blue with touches of sand (yes, more sand) on the smaller facades. The biggest windows run the full three floors of the building. As I literally only had a couple of minutes this was as good as it got. I didn't have my sketch book with me so good old Filofax note pages made a handy sketch surface. What I really want to do is sit inside and draw the giant spiral staircase that winds up the three floors. Must do that some time this week.

A sketch, I believe...

Well, I tried. It was day two of Every Day in May yesterday and I promise that I sketched on that day. I just couldn't post as my scanner didn't want to work with MY laptop. So today, I asked if it would very kindly work with Mr's laptop. And it obliged.

So, here is an attempt at pen and watercolour. I should be embarrassed but I figure I've given birth and besides, there really are far too many serious issues in the world to be concerned with. So, I've decided to be brave. I would LOVE to be brilliant at sketching - particularly architecture. And I'd LOVE to learn how to 'do' watercolour well. All in good time. For now, this will do.

Every day in May...

I have seen this challenge in blogs all over the web. I couldn't decide whether to participate and then I thought, what the heck. How hard can it be? Hmmm, I might regret posing that question. I think it's meant to be a drawing/painting challenge but I probably won't be doing that every day. And I figure knitting is just painting with wool and needles instead of paints and brushes....

Admittedly it's late in the day on 1 May but I have been creative today. I'm finalising a mini-project for the knitting group I belong to at home in Australia. In a nut shell, the little project is a 30x30cm knitted square that is joined with eight other knitted squares (one created by each member of the group) to make one big, lovely, bright and cheery knee rug. Each year we meet to have a Christmas in July (is this just an Aussie thing???). In the past we knitted a little gift and had a lucky dip but last year we came up with the brilliant idea of a collaborative blanky. Unfortunately, only one blanky can be created each year. The recipient's name is drawn from a hat and there is much whooping, cheering and dancing on the rug. It's going to take nine long years for us all to get a blanky so we have also inadvertently, developed a way of maintaining a committed membership to the group. Sinister snarl, snigger, snigger, snigger.

The sad thing is...I can't share any pics with you as the whole thing is a surprise for everyone. Everyone that is, other than the fabulous Miss Loani Prior. You see, she has the onerous task of piecing together nine very different squares into one gorgeous blanket. Thankfully she's great at this sort of thing. She's more than great, she's incredibly talented - but don't tell her or she'll never shut up about it. If you would like to know how big her greatness is then view her blog which is all about her creative life as the Grand Purl Baa - oh, and there's a little bit about her bestselling book, Wild Tea Cosies too.

But just for good measure, here is last year's blanky. My square is bottom left.



So, for now you will just have to trust that I have done something creative and when the time is right I will post a little pic of my little square that has been lovingly conceived and knitted and joined to its equally lovingly conceived and knitted cousins.

Food wars...

It has to be said - because it's true - that although I adore food, I am less enamoured with the process of cooking. Somehow and somewhere, over the last 16 years, my desire for cooking has eroded - to the point of having panic attacks when considering the evening meal. No. Let's be honest. It begins in the supermarket when I'm making decisions on what ingredients to buy. It really is enough to make a sane person crazy.

I think the fact I have fussy children has done it. It's soul destroying to spend hours lovingly baking knowing it will be largely unappreciated. There really is only so many "oh yuck, I hate mushrooms/it's too spicy/too salty/contains onions (even though you've minced them I can still taste them)/contains meat (and today I've decided to be vegetarian!)" one mother can take.

Even so, I have made a new pact with myself, that I will - inspite of all objections - cook food that I desire. Enough is enough. If they don't like it they can starve. And let's face it - they aint going to want to do that!

So recently I found some recipes on this handy site and yesterday dedicated a few hours to preparing a delicious beef pie, some gozleme and a banana cake.

The beef pie was a resounding success. Kalamata olives were, of course, swept to the side of the plate. That's ok, more for Mr and me. The gozleme was also a hit - but only if warmed! And the banana cake satisfied the most scathing of critics.

delicious spinach, feta and sundried tomato filling...



a small stack of gozleme, to feed the hordes...well, perhaps only four.


I will continue to assault the family with delicious home cooked food until they surrender. Victory will be mine!

sew much to do...

I recently took a trip - a very brave trip - to the textile area of Dubai. I had visited once previously but at that time was still experiencing 'white knuckle' driving syndrome and was in too much shock to buy anything.

This journey, however, was a little less fraught thanks to white knuckle mastery and the presence of our two handsome guys - who did not want to be in attendance but had to accompany Miss and me, for the following reasons:-

1. To navigate as you can't always rely on the Navman.
2. To be a male presence to ward off unwelcome male attention.
3. If we have to suffer, then so do they!

Anyway, the purpose was really about finding some fabric for Miss for a school project. Namely, making a wearable piece of art out of recycled materials. I have yet to point out to her (not wanting to dampen her enthusiasm) that her material is not recycled and the rubber gloves have never been used! Shhh.

Skipping right along...we found Miss her lining fabric and then I spied these. And had to have them.

reds...(and a sneaky purple)




and some yummy chocolate and aqua...



And then I had to decided what to make...oh sew many ideas.

Miss got first dibs. A cute little zipper purse made from the newly purchased purple fabric. Lined in a lovely purple satin I had in my stash at home, with a sweet little pocket and a few embellishments.

the early stages...



the finished project...



a little peek inside...



The colour in the last two pics is not true to life. It's more like the first pic.

The things I wish I'd know before embarking on this project are :-
1. How to line and insert a zip into the same item!
2. How to adjust the tension on my machine without completely screwing it up.
3. Exactly what I was trying to achieve. PPPPPPP. Do I need to spell out those 'P's' or does everyone know what I'm talking about? My excuse...I couldn't wait to begin!

The things I would do differently :-
1. Reduce the size of the bow - I think it's too wide.
2. Make the lining and the bag separately and then insert the zipper, leaving part of a side seam open for turning. Please don't ask me how I did it - I'm too embarrassed to tell. If you know a better way - please tell!

Next project please.

give us this day...

our daily artisan bread.

In the beginning was a gooey bowl of no-knead dough.

Safely stashed in the fridge for moments of need.

Which occurs daily.

Carefully, with flour aplenty, pulled from it's receptacle.

To be shaped, allowed to rise and placed into a pre-heated vessel for baking.






and then came the aroma...










not just the aroma but the insatiable desire...














to satisfy the palate and nurture the soul.

Warm, buttery toast with a spread of blueberries.

Oh yum. Oh heaven.








All credit to Zoe and Jeff, the authors of Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. You have created something that even a lazy cook like me can take pleasure in.

knitting with string...

Ingredients:
1 ball of very coarse twine
1 fabulous pattern
2 deep breaths
3 sore fingers

This is a gorgeous organic pattern and I adore the rustic nature of the coarse string. However, it HURTS my fingers. And to top it all off I realised that I misread the pattern. So now I need to pull it all out and start again.

Please tell me other people suffer for their craft too!

Fingers crossed...

...and toes, and legs and eyes. Ouch that hurts!


Why fingers crossed? Well a lovely lady, let's call her Melissa - because that's her name - at all buttoned up is giving away a copy of Button It Up. And I'd love a copy. So I commented and asked, please pick me. No I didn't. I practically begged. You know when you just want something so badly and you feel soooo deprived because you are in the middle of nowhere. Literally. And you miss being able to just pop down the road to a civilised well provided book store and pick up the latest and the greatest. Well, that's where I'm at. I'm desperate girls and I really would love it if you could all just keep everything crossed. So this longing to not feel deprived gal can get a copy of this inspiring button book and the buttons that Melissa is giving away. Pick me. Pick me.

How...

...did someone find me? I refer to Jill. A young lady who wrote a comment on one of my posts and totally blew me away. I really didn't think anyone - other than those I implore to visit my blog - would ever, ever find me. I thank Jill for her comment, which may seem a little trite to those used to receiving kudos and comments galore. But there you have it. I'm very British in that way.

...long does the feeling of elation last when someone comments nicely on your blog?

...will I cope when someone says something not so nice. Oh scrap that. Who cares!



Here are some flowers from Paris to say thank you to Jill. Who doesn't know me from a bar of soap!

What...

...does one do when something doesn't quite work out as planned?













a. cry
b. stomp your feet
c. complain
d. go home, make a nice cuppa and do the thing you went to do in the first place.

I was quite excited this morning at the prospect of meeting with a group of avid knitters in my new home country. Rather than throw myself together at the last minute - which I'm apt to do. I organised myself. Packed a hand woven basket with a knitting and crochet project - because I also can't decide what I want to do so I need choices. Popped a couple of my favourite craft books to share at 'show and tell' and jumped in the beast. Traffic can be a pain here and today was no exception but I was patient. Parking wasn't a problem today. There was a spot with my name on it outside the organic cafe where this lively group meets. Looking like an older and not very red version of Little Red Riding Hood, I swung open the door of the cafe to find...it empty!

Back to the car. Less patience in the traffic returning home. Pop on the kettle. Prepare some left overs. One small cake for disappointment and Fred the voodoo doll for frustration.

Where...

One of the cities I love to visit, more than any other, is Paris. Aaah. Very recently I took a trip to this great city in celebration of a very big birthday I was having (I also like to think of my trip as a sanity break). Now, some will complain that Paris is an overrated, dirty, crazy, expensive city full of Parisians...and I would say...yes, but what is wrong with that?

Did I fail to notice dog excrement and human throat deposits on the ground? No, I have to admit, I did not. I simply chose not to allow it to ruin my other visual discoveries and experience. I adore the splendour of the architecture and spent most of my time with my head craned high to see the beautiful wrought iron and stonework of the buildings. This can be a little hazardous, as you might imagine, with all the deposits on the ground! So I did try to be mindful of looking down occasionally. I like to imagine that when Paris was being developed, a decree was issued for the artisans to create the most visually delicious city. One that would stimulate the appetite of onlookers for centuries to come. I can honestly say that I barely hungered for real food as my senses were both stimulated and satisfied by feasting on the city - perfect for saving money on costly food (this probably accounted for a little weight loss also).

I love walking in cities. Walk and walk and walk. One can never have enough of it. With each step there is a new discovery. Turn down a tiny street and quite unexpectedly it opens to a square with a giant sculpture. Oh, and look over there...it's The Louvre. Let's just walk through there on the way to our next destination. I've seen it all before but never twice from the same perspective. Each time I visit, I am at a new stage in my life, and so each experience is different to the last. And each time I leave, I find Paris has changed me in some way. Perhaps this is one reason that I never tire of spending time in that dirty, crazy city that's full of Parisians!

Who...

A wonderful thing happened today. Something to make my soul sing again and my spirits rise. Something to reinvigorate, motivate, inspire and move me. Two somethings happened in actual fact.

Who number one: Mr Frank McCourt.

What a funny, fearless, honest, insightful man. To spend over an hour in his audience and listen to his stories first hand was a real blessing. I love his writing and Angela's Ashes came to me at a point in my life, several years ago, when I really needed to hear about someone else's crap. Boy did he go through some crap! Well, misery was the term he used to describe his childhood to us - and yet we all smiled, no, we laughed. And that is what a great story teller does. They can make the most tragic and awful events humorous. Yet enable us to understand the poignancy of the story and perhaps remind us to be resilient in times of adversity.

I really liked his opinion on poetry...leave it alone. Stop dissecting and analysing and just enjoy it for what it is. On children...there isn't a single child who cannot achieve if we'd just believe in them and give them all the opportunities they deserve. On education...many current methods are outdated and do not serve the students at all. I'm an educator, albeit one who is having a hiatus of service, and much of my time teaching was spent feeling despondent at the tangled mess of the education system. Too many people who sit a long way from the classrooms, where the real business of education resides, have far too much power and influence and it does not serve the students, it serves the system!

Anyway, back to Mr McCourt and his sharing of stories of his early years in Limerick; the tragic deaths of his siblings; how he came to be a writer; and his first day teaching on Staten Island, NY. There was so much more he said and there was so much more we wanted him to say but sadly our time together had to end.

Thank you for sharing, Frank McCourt...I'm inspired!


Who number two: Mr Anthony Horowitz.

Talk about motor mouth, enigmatic, humorous, generous and downright entertaining. I think the adults had as much fun as the kids...if not more. My young Master is a big fan of Horowitz's novels but today I had to coerce, nay, drag the young man out of his bear pit to see one of his favourite authors. There was much protesting, foot stomping and not very nice looks in my general direction as I dragged him to the venue. His father, Mr, was behaving in a very similar manner also! Admittedly Master also had to go and see Frank McCourt - but I know he secretly enjoyed that too. I'm happy to say my efforts paid off as both Mr and Master had an enjoyable time, laughing more than they have in a good while. And let's face it... we all need a jolly good laugh to keep us on the right track. Master came away with his favourite novel signed and a lovely photo taken with Anthony Horowitz.

What I enjoyed most about Anthony Horowitz (apart from his million miles an hour vocabulary) was that he is so willing to share. Share his ideas, his passion, and an excerpt from his yet to be published novel. But, I can't talk about that, he made us all promise to not breathe a word and I really don't want to be the person to end up as an evil character in one of his future novels. You see, he has a habit of writing in characters for people who have not been very nice to him; such as the gentleman who put an end to Horowitz's dream of seeing a movie sequel to Stormbreaker. An outcome that he's none too happy about - and who can blame him. So in true creative style he wrote a character for the nasty (my inference) man who ended his dream and avenged the harm done to him in real life. So there, Mr Nasty Pants!

But there's still more. What a revelation today - I didn't know that Horowitz also wrote Foyle's War and Midsomer Murders, to name just two television series. He's a prolific writer and I was going to say, I don't know how he does it...but if he thinks and writes as fast as he speaks, then the man operates at double the rate of the average human being!

Thanks Mr Horowitz, you were amazing!

When...

... I was very young and very ambitious and didn't believe that I couldn't do anything I wanted to do...I believed that by the time I was 40 I would be famous and a sillionaire!
... I was only seven years old, I believed my success and fortune would come from being a world famous spy who was handsomely rewarded by HM Government for the goodly and brave deeds I carried out on behalf of my country. Pehaps I'd watched too many James Bond movies and I had a gender identity crisis. I never wanted to be the beautiful girl in the bikini. Not that I didn't want to be beautiful but more so, I wanted to be the person in charge, the one rappelling from a helicopter and singlehandedly averting the impending crisis. Now, I may never have achieved that particular childhood dream but I think some how all mothers are action heroes who at some point are brave, daring, strong, decisive, quick thinking, fast running, deadly and able to don a cocktail outfit by 5pm! Yes, 007 is alive and well in my mind and in my life and I like to call her Boogirl.

Why...

...post now, six months after moving from my beloved Australia? Well, for starters, I'm bored. Not bored because I have nothing to do, or because I lack interest in many subjects. Simply bored with the tedious and painful experience of this new life in a new country of residence. So...it's about time I placed my fingers on the keyboard instead of in my hair, pulling it out!
I hope to begin my new life again, this time with joy and freedom of expression.

... when I finally decide to be brave and put the fingers on the keyboard, can I only think of whinging and whining as my first post?

...do I think you would even need to know that?

...am I addicted to crunching and chomping on crushed ice?

...do so many of my friends and family have a birthday in March?

...do I have a terrible memory for the dates of birthdays?

...haven't I sorted my art room yet - most people would kill to have a whole room with running water dedicated to their art!

...do I love food but loathe the process of cooking?

I don't think all these questions are rhetorical...any thoughts and ideas will be gratefully received.