Avebury stones

This week on the way back from Jack's folks we paid a visit to Avebury stones, the sun was out a little at times and at other times it was raining sideways.

This year I planned to go to some kind of standing stone for the winter solstice but I didn't make it. There were all sorts of signs of druidy happenings around these trees, wish I'd come to see them - next year.

Found ladybirds huddled together in one stone - which made me squeal a bit like a two year old.

And spent a lot of time admiring lichen. What's your favourite lichen Jo!? I hear you cry. Well, it's this one, quite beautiful with its outlines and fault lines but very understated. It's a crustose lichen and it will be so tightly grafted to it's sticking place that you couldn't remove it without damaging the stone - thank you lichen.com we've all learnt something new today.

It's new years tonight and I'm trying to maintain enthusiasm for the mucky warehouse party I'm all signed up for. Gosh.
I hope you have a lovely one whatever you do.

Some herby wreaths

This Christmas I made some wreaths out of herbs. It's nicer, I think, to use herbs because they smell good and also don't look too christmassy - so you can keep them into the new year and pick leaves off to use for cooking.

First I made these shapes out of wire, which I think are beautiful by themselves, I kept one for my wall and gave another to Mum. But when giving gifts it's important to remember that not everyone is a ponce who coos over bits of bent wire.

Just in case you too are a ponce who likes bent wire, here they are all stacked up. Phwoar.

Then I used long stalks of herbs and wove them all around in a circle.

I was really pleased with how they came out, the sage ones are very beautiful but don't really last at all.

Bay leaves are best value, they last ages and are good for all sorts of sauces - especially unimaginative pasta sauces, which are a little speciality of mine.

This wonky, wacky rosemary one has gone to live in the Plant House - I like it, it's a kind of festive catherine wheel.

Well that's it: Christmas is over. All that's left now is Turkish Delight, chocolate coins and that guilty over-eat feeling. I hope it treated you well.

Satsuma part two

Well the vicar took time off mass on Christmas Eve to make some satsuma lanterns, good egg! And the staff at the Bugle Canteen broke the rules somewhat, I wouldn't expect any less - perverts and sickos the lot of them . . . but it did remind me of another satsuma trick learnt from my granny. Imagine if you will some kind of jolly Wurlitzer accompaniment to this little trick:
tum-tum-tum   tum-teeee-tum-tum   tummm tum tum!

tum tum tiddy tum, tiddle tiddle toop te toop toop toop,

toop toop toop toop . . . toop-toop-toop . . . tumtum teedle tumtum

buh-buh-buh-buh-buh! . . . buh-buh-buh!
Yes, that's right, if you weedle carefully you can make a splendid pith todger for your festive streaker. Such hilarity on a long winters night.

Gawd bless us one and all.

Hello all,
Merry Christmas and that. I hope it's going well - I'm sending this scabby Christmas angel to look over you.

My Christmas has been splendid: I went to the pub on Christmas Eve and saw people from school, George very accurately pointed out that most of them were dressed like Jeremy Clarkson, what fun. Apart from one chap I know from way back who had a blonde bob, a touch of eyeliner and tight fit skinny leather trousers with zips on that seemed to be at one with his pointy black leather shoes - like bondage style waders. He also had headphones around his neck, in case things got a bit boring I guess, I like to think he had a bit of Miss Marple downloaded to listen to on his way home but I doubt it.
Then we went to Midnight Mass which was actually wonderful, not even very boring. I really appreciated the gentleness of it. This year I've been going to the Buddhist centre a bit and learning about Buddhism, I think that's helped me to look at faiths differently, more kindly. We all want the same thing really.
Then today it's been relaxing with tea and food, a little sitting in the garden, some present wrapping and some present unwrapping, it's my first day off in a little while. We also watched 'The Man Who Planted Trees' which I think you should watch too, it's a thing of beauty.
That's all. Keep up the good work.

Festive.

For some years now my family have made these special satsuma lanterns at Christmas time. It's the perfect tradition for Christmas day - a little bit tricky (so insanely rewarding), very beautiful, sweet smelling and it also provides a little break from all the traditions that involve gorging on lard.

First you have to herd all the little satsumas together and single one out. You should use a knife to score around the middle of your chosen fruit - cutting through the skin but not cutting the fruit in half.

Then you need to carefully weedle the skin off the fruit without breaking it, you need to really teasle it at the top of the clementine where the stalk is because . . .
. . . you're aiming to preserve the little bit of pith that joins the segments - it will act as a wick. Bloomin ingenious.
Pour a little bit of oil into this half and set it aside to soak in. You can use any cooking oil, I like olive oil because it adds to the nice smell when you burn it.

Cut some holes into the top half, it's good to have a hole right at the very top to act like a small chimney.

Then it's time to light the little beauty. This can be tricky, I find it's best to tilt the whole thing and get the flame under the wick.

And there you go! So beautiful! All the best colours and all the best smells.

Put them on a saucer for safety, and for reflecting the light, and for showing off your posh tea set. I don't have a posh tea set but something with a little lustre would be stonking.

They'll burn for much longer than you'd imagine and make the place look and smell almost too festive.

There you have it, I hope you try it out. Send me a picture if you do, I'd love to see any successes, any beautifully illuminated saucers. It's a nice thing to do together before you slip into a coma in front of the telly.

Some showing off I forgot to do.

In the summer I bought these things and I didn't show you so here they are:





Aren't they incredible? Party outfits from the thirties or forties I reckon, though maybe twenties wouldn't be too much of a stretch. I think they're perfect, I'd just hang them on the wall if I had a wall. I love the diamond pattern and the colours and of course the pom-poms.

And here are some pictures of Faye and I being all idyllic-like in them.

A nice cup of tea in the wendy house . . .

then a quick circus performance . . . gosh life's tough. Do you remember those days when you could walk barefoot outside? They seem so distant now but they were good.

Saturday Drawing

The drawing went well yesterday, you can look at the pictures by clicking on the wonky (but soon to be fixed) 'drawing classes' button on the right.

Some toot from the week.

A very fine coral necklace. Let it be said that I would never buy coral new and I probably shouldn't even buy the old stuff even, I'm just a sucker for the colour and this shape is stonking - kind of deco and triumphant. The black marks are from rolling up ink, my table is garnering quite a patina now.

The best soap dish in all the land.

And a bandage with instructions for tying printed on it.

And it came with a small booklet of even more ways of tying. I could easily see some of these looks gracing next years catwalk - the hotpants at bottom right are Jean Paul Gaultier I believe.

A nice blue enamel brooch.

This pattern is from the top of a little smushed box, the colours are my wonderful.

And the best buy of the week . . . this special collection of very rare bath plugs. It's funny the things you end up with when you dig around in sheds.

Guernseys, Jerseys, Arans

Look at this book, it's wonderful. Gladys Thompson wrote it in the fifties and there are lots of stories about her pursuit of traditional knits - chasing Guernsey clad fishermen down alleys or casually memorising the patterns whilst engaging jumper wearers in conversation. She also does a lot of sitting in small smoky rooms talking to lady knitters while their fishermen husbands sleep in nearby chairs. There's a nice story where one wife invite Gladys to 'turn 'im over' to get a peek at the back of her dozing husbands knit - Gladys politely declines.

All the patterns on these jumpers represent something, mostly nautical. The ropes are obvious, then there are diamonds to show nets, there are waves and ladders and herring bones and flags.

Moss stitch represents sand. Of the non-nautical patterns my favourite is the zig-zags which are 'marriage lines' because of the ups and downs.

And pastoral patterns appear too like the 'rig and fur' (ridge and furrow) which mimics fields ready for potato setting. And there are often honeycomb patterns in tribute to the hardworking bee.

In the Hebrides the Yoke (the neck) represents the house, with a diamond in the middle representing a window and sometimes a heart in the diamond to represent the wife.

I think I prefer a Guernsey to a Jersey or and Aran, not for me to wear but on other folk, there's something very pleasing about the firmness of the wool and the high neck. They're also designed so there's no front or back, you can wear them either way, what a good and useful feature.

Mrs Bishop of Sheringham "always insisted on a tight fit, and when Guernseys knitted for the children were pulled over their heads they sometimes made the lobes of their ears bleed": real four Yorkshiremen stuff.

I've also learnt from this book that no self-respecting fisherman would say 'Guernsey' - it's called a 'Gansey'. So let's use 'Gansey' from here on in: it's a nice opportunity to look down on anyone who uses any other word for they are obviously disgustingly inauthentic. Now we can all saunter around the East End feeling smug in Ganseys.

Two tiny vessels

I've been buying from a friend who's a real old school antiquey. He always has a mystery item or two for me - he'll ask 'What's this then?' - this time it was 'It's a tool for opening veins: to let blood' and last time it was 'It's a walking stick made from a bull's penis'. Ah joy. This time I bought some wonderful things from him, here are my two favourites that I think i shall keep.

This first one is made of a seed.

And when you open it up . . .

you find the insides have been carved into . . .

Lots of tiny little pots and a kind of spinning top. So sweet, I adore them.

The second one is a tiny chinese box.

Neatly packed with . . .

Tangram pieces.

Tangram is an ancient chinese puzzle that involves making various different shapes from the same seven pieces. There are images that you can try to work out how to make which can be really difficult. Just making a square from all of them is fiendishly tricky.

It's also often used as a creative tool, that artists might play with to create shapes. You can make some shapes and images that are really dynamic and beautiful.

But at present I'm just making obscure blobs - I call this one 'Obese man sitting in a bucket seat (seat not included)' Can you see it?