Lock-down craftism

Thank you for your lovely comments and emails about my last post, it always amazes me (and humbles me) that so many folk read my wafflings - thank you.

Today's post is a little less 'audible' and a little more 'make do and mend' type of crafting.

Tomorrow here in the UK we are celebrating VE Day however all the celebrations, which had been planned for obvious pandemic related reasons have had to been shelved. Our little row of houses will be quietly commemorating the event by hanging bunting up today (so it is up for our regular Thursday 'clap for carers') and I suddenly wondered if any one might be doing the same.... so thought I would share our home-made-spur-of-the-moment-see-what-you-have-in-the-house bunting.

You will need

• Three pieces of paper - I sort of have red (ish), blue and white (silver) which I'd got through a friend with access to all sorts of craft materials.
• Cord or ribbon - I fortunately have red, white and blue carpet wool
• Scissors
• Hole punch

Optional

• Co-conspirator who is more than happy to cut and punch holes and make paper bunting with me

Also optional 

• Plenty of sunshine
• Mug of tea
• Pens - to decorate the pennants

Cut as many pennant shapes as you can or need, ensuring you have equal amounts of each colour

Punch holes at the top then lay out in the correct colour sequence

I made a tri-coloured cord by twisting my three colours together, then folding in half to make a Union Jack coloured cord, greatly amusing both the cat and the neighbours... 

Then, thread your bunting pennants on your cord.

Admire your shadow in the sunshine (optional extra...!)

 

 Lay out step back and admire - finish brew.

Grab a pen and doodle your version of the Union Jake

(mine were all a little lopsided)

 Hang up in a suitable settings for the obligatory photo

 Hang most decoratively at the front of your home ready for later!

 Happily watch your bunting flutter in the breeze.

 Take photos from several angles, once again bemusing the neighbours.

Voila!

The new normal

Today,

the sun is shining a warm and comforting heat,

today,

the greenhouse is full of promising small green shoots, quietly growing and bringing hope,

today,

Eldest and GF are repotting all their plants, quietly chatting and laughing, sowing seeds and making plans,

today,

Youngest is working on his car, quietly giving it the attention it needs,

today,

Himself is tinkering with our van, chatting with a neighbour at the required safe distance, drinking tea,

today,

the cats have dozed in the greenhouse and the dog sat on the bench, happy to be with us,

today,

friends have rung, emails have come, texts and messages have pinged in - all sharing love and concern for each other,

today,

today, despite the unsettling greater outside world, despite the restrictions, the horror, the news and the awful virus,  we have discussed that 'what was' is not what we want to return to. We know there are those that are not as blessed as we are, and we feel for them and hope that things will improve soon.

This lock down has shown the reality of the excess, the commercialism and concentration that sadly we seem to have become benumbed by, desensitised and stupefied.

We want a simpler, quieter and more holistic life - we have quickly become used to the quieter roads, the wonderful bird song, the clear blue skies uninterrupted by jet streams. 

Is that too much to ask?

Keeping to our regulated one hour exercise

We still wrap up even though the weather is definitely milder. Moss already has her collar and lead on and is bursting with anticipation. Pockets are filled with dog-poo bags, latex gloves and tissues and the final thing before we set off - trigger the strava walking app.

We leave the house via the back door, turn left down our gable end, turn right on to the street, then right again up the cobbled track behind the houses. In years gone by, these cobbles were the base for the tram lines which connected our village to our local 'big' town. Unfortunately all that remain are the stones while the rails have probably rusted away at the bottom of the North Sea.

We follow the old tram lines as they pass the allotments and old garages, do the CV19 two (metre) step as we come up to a fellow dog walker. We nod and grin and share a grimace and walk on.

Moss knows this route, knows the secret path between the high hedges, she forges on ahead and waits for us at the little gate at the end. We don our gloves to open all gates - being careful is being wise.

Peering over the top ; checking for stock in the field. We spot Bob, the resident native breed pony, he is too busy grazing to even look up as we walk by.  The field drops down to the stream with a narrow footbridge. We cross over and then up and over the stile. Moss stands waiting at the dog gate and shoots through as soon as she can.

We walk back up a short sharp hill side where the 'fairy trees' with their exposed roots and secret nooks and crannies grow. At the top we turned right, down along the track, keeping our eyes open for lambs.

 And we are not disappointed.

The track goes up hill and quietly turns into a grassy hill, the crows swirl and twirl in the air playing on the breeze. 

We keep on upwards until the field's edge, turn left and start our return following the small stream which Moss finds great fun.

The field is long one, we call it the 'Long Lamb Field' (although lamb free at the moment, it is a bit exposed for the little ones until they are a bit more robust).

The next field has ewes fat and biding their time, Moss is kept close on her lead as we quietly walk through and exit on to a tree lined lane, a favourite one of ours and arrive at the 'rec'. Dog walkers are dotted around the grounds keeping themselves safe but yelling cheerful greetings and conversations with each other. You can tell who are not regular walkers or are not from the village - they avoid eye contact and actively ignore your 'we-are-in-this-together' hellos. Their loss.

Moss runs around in huge happy circles, her happiness is infectious.

Time to return, so we call in a grinning dog, slip her lead on and walk down the road back into the village - we have done our government advised one hour's exercise - but it was so much more than an hour's walk. It was fresh air, it was blue skies and scudding clouds, it was lambs and lapwings,  curlews and crows playing on the breeze. It was long distant views and lovely.

It was just lovely.

March photos & #staystrongfriday

I almost didn't do this month's list - felt it almost too 'trite' in this world of the new normal.

But then, tonight at 8pm, I stood and clapped with my neighbours and family until my hands hurt, listened to shouts and whistles, watched flares and felt that although we are all individuals, we are all one.

So, in a spirit of defiance - a spirit of we will adapt, we will learn from our mistakes and we will blossom and find a better normal - one that is ..... less is more...... #staystrongfriday

All images are from the archives - enjoy xx

Birthday

March is Eldest's birthday, photo - March 2011

Jazzy

A kerchief - The age of Brass and Steam in self striping jazzy sock wool - June 2011

Flag

Yellow Flag Iris - Northumberland - July 2011

Three

A favourite lane in the Dales - photo June 2013

Cushion

Attic24's blooming flower cushion  - January 2012

My own choice

Taken today - Thursday.

On our one government sanctioned daily allowed walk

Stay safe xxxxxx

#staysafe #staystrongfriday #corvid19

My suggestion

In these strange and unsettling time please can I make a suggestion or two ....

Blog - still blog, may be your world has shrunk to the size of your garden, your flat, your bedroom. Blog - still blog, keep that life line, not just for you but for others. Even a small post on that silly thing your cat did/husband said/you saw on the internet will bring a spot of light to someone who is stuck at home. Stay in touch.

Create - if you can, create. Not for profit, but for you. Doodle, sketch, stitch, sew, knit, crochet.

Bake - nothing extravagant, something simple and have it with a mug of tea/coffee with the other castaways living with you. Warm scones (the BBC scone recipe is easy and quick) or easy biscuits are so comforting at a time like this.

Jigsaws - you know that pile of them you have stashed away? ... somewhere .... which you promised yourself to do? Seek them out, find them and find that simple pleasure of putting that final piece of the jigsaw in :D

Garden - if you have a garden - get out there - it is lovely here today. Potter on the patio, tinker on the balcony (none of these are euphemisms I hasten to add!!) Water the houseplants. Prune the bonsai, mist spray the climbing plants, sow seeds.

Talk. Ring that friend, message that work mate, text your cousin, send that email. Send it with love and support and you will get that love and support back.

Stay in touch xxxx

Monday

To plant a garden is to believe in hope.

Today I listened to lapwings overhead and curlews screaming in the fields. I clipped and trimmed overgrown hedges, winkled out little weeds hiding in the cobble stones and cut back dead winter foliage.

Despite the gloriously warm spring sunshine on my face, the puddles on the lane were still frozen.
A quiet calm swirled about me, giving me a sense of 'normality', giving me a breathing space. The owner of the garden and I stood a very respectable distance apart and peaceably discussed life.

We said our good byes.

I then worked in my own garden. Sowing seeds - a promise of new things. 

I listened to blackbirds and robins conversing from the tree tops, the jackdaws cawing and chattering as they flew overhead.
Fat sweet pea seeds were dropped into chocolate coloured home made compost, bamboo canes, freshly cut from a large clump in our garden turned into supports.
Crisp black and white almond shaped sunflower seeds pressed into soft potting soil in shallow trays.
Tiny peppercorn-like seeds dropped into drills - promising radish in three short weeks.

Little things, gentle things, positive things - so important, especially now.   Especially now.

Stay safe xxx