pop culture brought us up while sport brought us down

kiss me and you will see how important I am

bake (verb); gluttony (noun);

Busy busy busy

Recycling, remaking, creating; these days it's all about these sort of words. Upstyled bag number one, made at the weekend, gave me the idea to make another bag when I found a cheap old tablecloth in a charity shop.

Although the fabric wasn't perfect I liked the print and was easily able to cut around the stain, and to reinforce the light material I added a lining.

Now I have a pretty and durable cotton carrier bag, made a little extra large as I have a habit of always carrying a few too many things on my person or stopping by the library or the supermarket or somewhere that adds even more to my load or bringing an umbrella just in case it rains or some other such thingamabob just in case...

Bag number two was seen by Ellenfriend who then asked if I'd make a bag number three as a present for her. We found a cheap old duvet cover in the charity shop; double sized it came with the bonus of having twice as much material which lent itself nicely to a lining and still had lots left over for maybe making even more matching bags...

If you would like a bag number four, be it from my stash of material remnants, or be it an old skirt or shirt or sheet or something you once loved dearly but never wear anymore yet can't bring yourself to let go of and would like to see it with a new lease of life, get in touch and I'll be happy to help!

Fifty - fifty

It's nice to be home and even nicer to have my best friends around and to have time to enjoy each other. Aww.  But I'm also enjoying being by myself again; over time with a little concession here and a wee compromise there, there are many things one doesn't realise one has changed about oneself while living with friends. Now that it's been left it behind it's actually quite lovely reverting naturally to my old habits of spending time alone being as productive as I feel inspired... Today I turned a blouse into a bag... *Voila!

Twenty degrees

I arrive home for a short visit to find everybody talking about 50 shades of Grey and I somehow find myself at a loss for what to say while they're talking books and not bemoaning the colour of the sky. I miss the sun, my legs miss the liberation of trouser-free days, and my toes are having a slow time reinstating their friendship with socks. On the up-side however, my fingers are disporting themselves thanks to this more temperate climate and my new knitting project : mittens.

we eat our daily bread

ever just the same, ever a surprise

where worn-out frying pans illuminate the night