Crowning Quandry

Note to self :: next time your brain thinks of something, keep your gob shut!

It was such an innocent thought. I was sitting in a meeting of local residents and complex neighbours about a planned street party for the coronation, with activities and games here too, my brain pondered “hmm, I could maybe create some bunting, must Google for a pattern, maybe” I googled, I oowed and it began.

A series of red, white and blue crowns strung on a triple thread chain. Simples! Well in truth it hasn’t been that difficult, I made a start in batches of six (for no reason) of each colour, tucking ends as each six were completed (I hate tucking ends) and propped them neatly in the basket. After a while there was a neat bunch of batches in the basket and I realised three rows would fill it, nice and neat, all very mathematical and logical. Merrily I continued reciting the pattern mantra sounding like I was summoning up some dark demonic creature, until the basket was full.

While chating to BFF and doing the mental maths I was taken aback to work out, I had completed one-hundred and eight crowns, tucking in two-hundred and sixteen ends, taking approximately fifty-four hours before I began stringing them together.

So what’s the quandry? Well, it’s the coronation itself.

It is a major historical event, more rare than Royal jubilees, weddings or funerals, such an event of poignant pageantry with links back to centuries, literally with the 12th century anointing spoon. Next level with the regalia and symbolism.

But

It’s the heads the crowns are being plonked on; the history, the reputations, the insecurities, the fragilities, the egos and the politics. It’s been awhile since the U.K. has had a divorced King on the throne, We go back to George IV (Jan 1820-June 1830) who didn’t want his wife, Caroline of Brunswick, crowned Queen Consort so issued divorce papers (which were quashed), she was excluded from the ceremony and died suddenly a couple of weeks after her estranged husband’s coronation. So we go back further to good old Henry VIII who wasn’t divorced when he ascended the throne but sure got the Guinness Record Holder by the time he died (twice divorced). Honestly, soap opera scripts have nothing on the absurdity of human behaviour compared to the historical royals.

Which brings me to Charles and Camilla (and Diana). How things happened and how it was played out through the media has not just tainted the institution it has permanently stained the Monarchy in perpetuity. What sits uncomfortably for me, is the behaviour of C&C before, during and after his marriage to Diana. It is a clear fact of families that relationships break down and couples divorce, and it was inevitable that Charles and Diana would divorce. It is almost certain that the divorced partners will go on to establish new romances, but having ‘the mistress’ prominent and even befriending the naive bride seemed especially cruel.

Okay, so nobody wants to carry the moniker of ‘marriage wrecker’ or ‘adulterer’ nor be reminded of past bad behaviour, but trying to gloss over, control the narrative around a person or situation, that sticks in the throat. Mistakes have and will be made, who knows how things will change.

And finally, one huge favour …… for the love of patient nerves, please hang your Union Flags the right way up 🇬🇧

 

April Poem

I set myself a doozy of a challenge this time. I blame Google and the rabbit hole of “types of poetry” search.

Villanelle is another very old form of poetry that came from France and has lots of rules. It is made up of 19 lines; five stanzas of three lines (tercet) each and a final stanza of four lines (quatrain). As you can see from the rhyme scheme; ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA, this type of poem only has two rhyming sounds. Plus, there is a lot of repetition throughout the villanelle. Line one will be repeated in lines six, 12 and 18; and line three will be repeated in lines nine, 15 and 19. So although this takes out the extra work of having to write 19 individual lines, the real challenge is to make meaning out of those repeated lines.

When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
Washing the seedlings awake 
And the Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling

Thoughts of garden parties bring
Sumptuous BBQ's of sausages and steak
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling

Amassing eggs into the garden for hiding
Excited little hands to find and take
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling

Maybe a spot of seaside esplanade strolling
Melting ice cream with a crumbly flake
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling

The aromatic minted lamb roasting
And afternoon tea with toasted teacake
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling

Seasonal attractions begin opening
Days out of fun and excitement to partake
When April is remembered for its showers sprinkling
And The Easter Bunny with eyes twinkling

I shall now go and lie down in a darkened room, lol. Happy Easter everyone 🫠

 

March – Poem

March marches boldly
Roars it's way in windily
Creeps out sheepishly

Haiku is a type of short form poetry originally from Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consist of three phrases composed of 17 phonetic units (called on in Japanese, which are similar to syllables) in a 5, 7, 5 pattern; that include a kireji, or “cutting word”; and a kigo, or seasonal reference. Similar poems that do not adhere to these rules are generally classified as senryū. There is no exact equivalent of kirejiin in English, and its function can be difficult to define. It is said to supply structural support to the verse.

 

Close To Productive

For decades I’ve been a list maker, I have a list of lists on my reminder app and some list items have subcategories. Nerdy I know. It’s an attempt to organise and prioritise jobs, to see progress (sometimes) or to just add other things to the bottom that have already been done to cross em orf and feel empowered.

Maybe this is an indication that I am starting to nest in my new abode. I have a list of things I’d like to get ‘sorted’, not quite sure how yet.

• Sort tall cupboard contents
• Hang pictures
• Reorganise wardrobe & cupboard contents
• Source wall mounted tv, and get dvd player
• Weed and organise desk drawers

Until I can get help with those, I have been at my desk 😱 (I know, shocking). Desk work in general has been very neglected over the past couple of years for numerous reasons and general procrastination tendencies.

Before moving house, loads of my cds were uploaded to the iMac as I use the natty Remote App to play music, and I have dropped hundreds of images, photos, vids and graphics that need cataloguing. Before any of that can start I had to wrangle the updates and the Apple TimeMachine back up. It (iMac) initially protested, I informed it of its birth and parentage, threatened it with the metaphoric trusted rusty chisel up the USB, then I left it to stew in the corner. It did at it was supposed to, like the petulant toddler it is, so now I can move onto getting stuff done (allegedly).

So over the next few weekends I plan to, although with the decreased dexterity in my right hand/wrist/arm/shoulder I may need to invest in a track pad. Still the “Mac List” is something like

• Roughly sort photos into four categories (graphics/cats/fam/others) before closer cataloguing and naming
• Add album art to albums added to music catalogue (aesthetic & easy search reasons)
• Consider additional iTunes backup method (in excess of 20 gbs)
• Ensure backups of website coded pages are up to date versions
• List website housework and new page needs

But before any of that I really must get on with crocheting the gear stick knob hat (don’t ask, well you can, but I have weird friends).

 

January Poem

I’ve decided to set myself a little challenge for the year. Each month I will create a poem relating to that month, different styles, differing contexts. Nothing too too taxing, probably dull and doubtful of proficiency but *blows-raspberry and sticks up two fingers, one finger if you’ve really pissed me off*

January – acrostic

January drags
All bare and dark
Never ending nights
Uninviting and stark
Adverse weather 
Reducing our spark
Yearning for Spring

 

Feeling UnKonMari

I’m bagging the bagged bags that bag the bundled bits – I know, it looks like organised chaos, it isn’t, it’s sort of round about semi topsy turviness with a hint of disarray.

This is just the one drawer of my bedroom chest of drawers where historical sewing, crafting, cross stitch detritus has been stuffed. Oh and a box on the book shelf. For some unknown reason whenever I finished a cross stitch piece I kept the scribbled on paper pattern as well as the kit packaging, why? 🤷‍♀️ just why?? Not like I was going to do it again! I kept the unused silks, they’re always useful for anything I created from scratch or decided to add/switch from other left-overs. I’ve amassed three boxes of residue silks, two are all general colours, all wrapped round the little cards, filed in number order, organised and neat; the third box contains the specific silks from the multiple All Our Yesterdays series of pieces I did, I’m thinking of bundling that with a book of AOY patterns and aida cloths. Ahh, I forgot the smaller box that has all the special sparkly shiny metallic colour threads.

Our local hospital has a group of volunteers who make the dementia comfort cuffs, so any oddments of yarn, ribbon, lace, buttons etc I am bagging up to go to them.

It’s time consuming and mildly frustrating as my dexterity and arm movements won’t just ‘comply’ with my reasonable mental request. But it does make me feel that I am actively involved with this blessed move malarkey, rather than barking orders.

So there is the chuck bag, the recycle bag, the dementia bag, the cross stitch accessories bag, the bag of kits unopened, the bag of completed pieces, then the bag of bundled bags.

Yes, I am, most definitely, a crazy bag lady.

 

Mondrian

Laying in bed (if you remember I am quite partial to a spot of clinomania) I was pondering, musing, lightly conjuring ideas for the next cat blanket. I had made a few with two tone squares and was in the process of finishing the sixteen different colour squares blanket, as ever when you’re not really thinking about something an idea usually pops and a pattern began to form.

Hmm, wasn’t there an artist who black lined rectangles and squares, coloured with white, red, yellow and royal blue? Hmm, must google when I arise to settle my curiosity. Google did infact confirm that I was thinking Mondrian.

Rummaging through the stash I had what I needed, except for the white and blue, the other modern deity Amazon handled that and this I became a creative little hooker.

Of course, my brain didn’t stop there! As I was attaching the various shapes another nugget of wonder began, how to tweak the cat toy patterns and style them in the colours too.

The result is pictured above.

I have reached a conclusion after this artistic endeavour

• I hate using black
• I hate tucking ends
• I hate sewing bits together
• The next blanket will be an ordinary, single colour, back and forth one ….ish …..kinda …..maybe with a sliiight adjustment.

 

Deuce it out

‘She’s always like this when Wimbledon ends.’

Phew, wasn’t that exhausting, thrilling, nail biting and oh so….polite.

I am rather partial to a spot of tennis, so the Wimbledon fortnight is a couple of weeks where I know I will be entertained and manage a stitch project or two. This year it was welcoming to see and hear the crowds getting behind the players, the commentators banter bouncing as artistically as the balls across the court. Thanks to the multitude of BBC options I had plenty to choose from. Merrily from late morn til late evening I could get behind the under dog, admire the resilience of the known and marvel at the prowess of the new blood breaking through.

After the happenings of Sunday night, I also delighted in the behaviour of the crowd. No slurs, no drunken stupidity, no offensive language, no brawling, no scrapping, no abuse. What is it about the mob mentality of football fans that turns the sensible into unabashed vile thugs …. but that’s a while other subject.

While watching the tennis, I was able to complete a round cat blanket and even tackled a new stitch style for the edging.

When Wimbledon concludes I am often left feeling flat. Not as flat as when BFF flies home but adrift, so a mini project commission was tackled Monday. I had been flicking through some photos, looking for something specific, when one of my carers asked “What was that?” Cat Butt Coasters I replied. I had made some for a friend in the USA.

She was so amused that I said I would make some for her. Diving into my stash I searched for a suitable shade of butt to centre the grey and black cat coloured yarn,

The other distraction …. #NotMyCat, who enters for breakfast, leaves for a constitutional, then returns to commandeer my lap to snooze upon, my hands to fuss him and brush him until my next carer arrives.

Round these parts we’ve entered sticky season, when the heat and humidity rises, helped by menopausal hot flashes, equals sticky body parts. Not something many have to deal with but when trying to slide ones naked butt to and fro, it does matter. Even cotton sheets latch to clammy skin and nights are spent throwing off and retrieving the light weight duvet.

It wasn’t always this way….was it…..Or am I getting properly into ‘old’ (don’t answer that).

 

June Arrives Like A March Hare

Blimey and it’s barely gone noon and the day has whirled like a dervish already!

So let’s see, so far today there were two emails from friends asking if I was available and up for a catch up this afternoon, one postponed, the other coming 2:30; there’s been a phone call from Mr Pane In The Glass about the window mechanism, they promptly appeared, wrangled banged and replaced it; BFF messaged with musing as she’ll be here on Friday; and I’m half way through a commission piece (bobble hat for a gear stick)!

I’m already exhausted!!

You may remember I decided May would be crochet month, how did I do? Welll…….. red&black blanket finished, two other blankets finished and fourth started, two mouseseses done and four fishies. All in all I did rather well, might give myself a ⭐️

BFF is arriving Friday afternoon for two weeks of natter, films, food and two cats (Ginger will undoubtedly follow his brother Mickey D’Mooch in for breakfast). We are booked in for pedicures (they might need an angle grinder for my little toe nail) and we are hoping to get out-out up the seafront for some racing sea air and sunshine.

Right then, bobble Pom Pom making to be done…… toddle peeps

 

I’m na’ casting me clout

Ne’er cast ya clout til May is out. Ha! With the great British weather as it is, I’m na’ casting out my clout regardless of the month. Soo in April there was a frost somewhere every dang night, chilly you say, well it would seem so. Friday morning as carer arrived, in the time it took her to get from car to my door there was rain-heavy rain- hail, chunks of stinging balls of ice! Mother Nature is off her meds again, or her grandkids flipped her calendar back to February.

So … how are things? Been anywhere? Looking forward to being out and about with the great unwashed? I know what you mean, it’s too peopley out there *shudder*

I scrolled back to my list, can you believe it was as far back as 20th March! Time has done it’s thing, still feeling a bit groundhog but the days are lighter for longer. Anyway, as they say, previously

• Add crochet border to red cat blanket – started yesterday but run out of that colour.
• Start the Alan Davies book – I’m about half way through
• Check domain registry dates – did that, all good until next year
• Go through iTunes genre – classified the blank, tweaked others
• File images accumulated – mostly, sort of done ish

So my to do list is lacking the mastermind effort (I’ve started so I’ll finish). In my defence April got taken over with writing a poem everyday and reading all the other excellent, poignant, hilarious, rude, epic verses.

May, I have decided will be crochet month, each day I will do some, hopefully getting a blanket to grow across a week, maybe a toy or two across the weekend. Ohh, I wrote a poem about that…..

I'm a little hooker
Not short nor stout
Sometimes I swear
Often I pout

You mucky minded readers
Keep your trap shut
It's not what you're thinking
None of your smut

Yarn over, pull through
Yarn over, pull through two,
Front post, half double,
Twiddle deftly is what I do

Blankets for the pussy cats
Toys of fish and mice
A gift to Cats Protection
Because I'm really nice