By day, I'm the Head of Learning and Participation at a small illustration charity, and the happiest commuter on the Central Line with crochet hook and Audible subscription.
After hours, mother of three kids, staff to three cats, slave to the smoke alarm. Hoarder of yarn and fabric, maker of stuff, obsessive reader. Walker with ambitions.
The last couple of months have been bringing home to me how fast the Things are growing up, not just physically (as I crane my neck to look up at them) but in what they are up to. I think I have been deep in denial that Thing 1 is actually planning to leave home in just a couple of short months, to head off to university to do Early Childhood Studies. Thing 2 is revising hard for her GCSEs and had an interview for a professional cookery course at a local college this week. Thing 3 is making his GCSE choices and wanting to join gyms and things.
It does make me feel a bit wistful looking up at them all, especially when the digital photo frames show ‘on this day’ pictures of when they were small: using their dad as a climbing frame, charging off into their first deep snow in the local park, picking me bunches of bright dandelions on the way to the shops, ‘gumping in muddy buddles’ in their ladybird wellies, being hopelessly overexcited at a toy train, being the Littlest Gruff on daddy’s lap at storytime. I still have their first shoes and their first tiny Welsh rugby shirts stashed in my wardrobe, of course, and locks of hair from their first haircuts*. There are certain photos which make my heart melt every time they pop up.
Now I look at Thing 3’s shoes (size 12!) and Thing 1’s varying hair colours. Thing 2 still picks flowers but is now more likely to press them and turn them into art than clutch them all around the town. It used to take ages to get anywhere as she was so engrossed in looking at all the small things. Thing 3 used to make us stop at every lamp post where he’d say ‘that sign means lightning! If there is lightning you must not go in the garden because you will DIE’. It took a while to get to nursery. Thing 1 used to talk to the meerkats that lived in Daddy’s shoes, which was a bit disconcerting but there you are. Who were we to say that there weren’t meerkats in his trainers? Imagination is one of the best things about being a small person, building the world the way you want it – I think if they get to exercise it when they’re small it’s good practice for improving the world when they’re older. I think we’re going to need the imagineers in the next couple of years.
Obviously I know in my head that kids are supposed to grow up (I plan on trying it some time myself) and leave home and be their own people and all that sort of caper, but it seems to have come round terribly quickly and without much consultation. I’m not sure I like it but apparently it’s not up to me….
*Thing 2 is reading over my shoulder as she revises and just said ‘urrgghhh, you kept our hair?’ She’ll learn.
Last week’s post being flagged as not meeting some tech corporation’s community standards – AHAHAHA. Like Captain Vimes says, if you’re annoying the right people you’re doing things properly.
The V&A Academy’s online ‘In Practice’ series – last Monday I did Ekta Kaul’s Stitching Nature session and had an enjoyable evening doing embroidery..
Meeting lots of lovely ex-colleagues from Young V&A as I was in Bethnal Green for a meeting.
Turning a Vicki Brown Designs yarn advent sock yarn set into piles of squishy granny squares. Eleven colours down, 23 to go. She designs gorgeous sock patterns too. Sock yarns are too nice to go inside shoes though.
Making some progress on last year’s temperature tracker which I hadn’t touched since August as I put it down in favour of Christmas crochet. Only four months to go…
The prospect of a lot of baguettes, canalside walks and a week off.
Quite a lot of this week has been spent staring into the Zoomiverse (or the Teamsiverse) on an interesting variety of webinars covering everything from young people’s engagement in museums to drawing inspiration from Zandra Rhodes’ digital collections. I found out about baby art sessions from people in Scotland, working with refugees and asylum seekers from people in Wales and bringing the community in from someone in Margate. And all from the relative comfort of my various desks. I had a chat with someone in Brighton about access and another about more general things with someone in Woking, introduced by a lovely friend that I first met online via Twitter. I am not sure any more that meeting someone on Twitter is a good idea but it’s true that technology can bring people together – and bring the world closer.
‘Online’ is a weird and saddening place to be at the moment. My feeds, usually an echo chamber of cats, capybaras, yarn and textile makers and people I like in real life, are filled with flabbergasted ‘look what they’ve done now’ news from over the pond. I think the general vibe is similar to when you watch those stupid people trampolining on Lego or staple-gunning sensitive bits of their anatomy for the shock value, except that this is a man and his cronies who are doing serious damage to the people around them. The first female head of a branch of the military – fired and evicted from her home with three hours notice for allegedly following EDI policies too zealously. Blaming EDI hires for a plane crash while the river was still being searched for fatalities. Pardoning violent, racist rioters. Rolling back the rights of trans people. Ending birthright citizenship, blocking refugees, going after Alaskan oil, acting to reverse climate change action. Moving to change the constitution so he can run for a third term. My lovely American friends (none of whom voted for him) are in despair, and that’s not too strong a word.
I read one piece this week where white women who’d voted for him were shocked that the anti-EDI orders were applying to them too. What did they expect was going to happen? They’d be immune because they’d supported him? To him they are nobodies. He’s been handed the power now, so he no longer has to even pretend to care – not that he ever bothered with that. His son posted (rapidly-deleted) threats that anyone standing in the way of the administration would be rolled over by the MAGA machine. The world feels like the first twenty minutes of a post-apocalyptic blockbuster, except that it’s real. And if this is the stuff he’s doing above-board, what’s he doing that can’t be seen?
He’s not our president but the impact of his actions is felt across the world, and the power he’s handing to his megalomaniac cronies who now feel entitled to bring their brand of power-hungry aggression to Europe is concerning. When the French president feels it necessary to tell a tech billionaire based in the US to back off from European politics, something is going wrong. Not that he listened – he’s now backing the right wing ‘Make Europe Great Again’ rallies. I’m assuming that this crony and, indeed, the Cheeto’s weird wife, are immune from being deported as immigrants but – again – there’s no guarantee so they should perhaps be a little wary about putting all their eggs in one orange basketcase.
In typical fashion, this appalling state of affairs seems to give people over here – including some who remain on my friend lists for historical reasons only, but who I often mute for 30 days when the racism gets too much – a licence to be publicly racist, posting content about refugees. Reform are gaining seats in by-elections. The pathetic Tate has allegedly set up his political party. They say that people who ignore history are doomed to repeat it, but no one said anything about selective historical ignorance. The people mentioned above are actual historians of one kind or another, who can talk for hours on the subject of various wars, but who don’t seem to relate the right-wing rants they repost to the history they know about.
Like everyone else I don’t have any sensible solutions and it’s probably not practical to watch the next four years from behind a cushion, as if it was an episode of the Triffids or something. What I can do is carry on being a safe space, and treating the people around me in the way I’d like to be treated. Do the small things and watch the ripples of kindness expand. And hope that the world comes to its senses sooner rather than later.
Things making me happy this week
A muddy walk with Sue, Jill, Heather and the Bella-dog on Sunday afternoon, through the floodplain and ending up at the pub for coffee and a chat
Chilly swimming on Sunday morning with Jill – it wasn’t frozen but even the swans were a bit wary about hopping in
Making use of the yoga mat as a blocking aid for the Spiderweb scarf, which has seen a lot of wear this week
Starting a crochet jumper inspired by one I wore in uni, and turning mini-skeins into little granny squares
Getting caught in the rain on my Saturday long walk….and finding a bus going in my direction just waiting for me. It would have been rude not to get on it…
This morning we’re dog-walking rather than swimming, which will at least be warmer! Next week I’ll be coming to you from la belle France where (if we’re lucky) the waters will have receded far enough for some long walks.
January is over at last, and as I am a contrary little being I have been looking into gym memberships – well, swimming for me and a junior membership for Thing 3 who has been nagging me for ages. Good GRIEF but these places make it hard to find simple information – like how much a particular membership costs, for example, or the types of membership there are.
For Golden Lane, the closest pool to where I work, I can find a page where I can pause, freeze or give notice of cancellation of my membership but no information on how I can become a member. At Better Leisure – Ironmonger Row Baths – I can find the membership page (yay!) but then need to start filling in forms and promising the soul of my firstborn (sorry, Thing 1) before I can find out how much it is although they do offer a swim membership which covers the outdoor facility at West Reservoir as well. At the one Thing 3 wants to join, you can’t join as a junior online which is fair enough but surely they could at least tell you how much it is?
Honestly, it’s like all the leisure centre websites have been built by teenagers or possibly by my Beloved as they are all incapable of answering a simple question with a straightforward answer. It surely can’t come as a surprise to service providers that people might want to get this quite important information without having to enter any personal details, or delve down through multiple webpages? I don’t want to talk to people on the phone, or wait for them to get round to answering enquiries, especially as the former action, from previous gym experiences, is going to be the hard sell on me rather than just answering my questions. Actual example:
Me: So, how much is it per month?
Gym person: how much do you think it should be?
Me: OK, ÂŁ20 per month (having lost patience with the shiny-tracksuited sales ‘associate’)
Gym person: Oh, you can get that out of your head.
Me: well, perhaps you should have just answered the question rather than wasting my time then? [channelling my inner Dad]
The whole point of the internet and websites – apart from cat videos, of course – is that information is at your fingertips. The only plus I can derive from this is that at least these sites aren’t pervaded by chatbots, who are clearly designed by an evil imp in some infernal circle of hell and whose very name is a laughable lie as they do not, in fact, chat….they answer a limited number of pre-set questions with more questions and can’t actually provide any information, or even let you speak to someone with a human brain who might be able to provide assistance. I can only assume that AI ‘assistants’ are also in their teenage phase….
A ten-mile training walk on Saturday morning, through Magdalen and High Lavers to Moreton and back. I spotted a kestrel, a red kite, a sparrowhawk, a little egret, a heron and – for some reason – a large goose sitting in the middle of the road. The rain held off and I didn’t get shot by the enthusiastic hunting family out past Magdalen Laver. Road-only walk apart from a short stretch past Moreton, as the fields are basically a swamp again. Big thanks to the landlord of the White Hart for letting me use their toilet…
Visiting the Art Club at South Library with illustrator Grace Holliday, where we explored play and architecture and met some lovely people who are very excited about the Centre
Finishing an extremely fluffy blanket for GT2, who stayed over with us on Friday night so his mama could have a night out. Endless Sesame Street turned out to be better than the Wales v France game
Finishing this Spiderweb Infinity Scarf in one of the hand-dyed yarns from the Waltham Abbey Wool Show – not shown as it needs blocking!
Thing 2’s excellent cinnamon rolls
A really positive parents evening for Thing 1 followed by a drink with Miriam (while Thing 1 eyerolled at us from behind the bar)
The Last of Us – especially episode 3, one of the most beautifully written pieces of television I have seen for ages
The thing annoying me this week is the press insisting on peppering all Marianne Faithfull’s obituaries with ‘Mick Jagger’s ex-girlfriend’ references – never mind the amazing albums she’s made in the 55 years since they split up, the work she’s done with Nick Cave and PJ Harvey and others, and the whole life she’s lived since then….grr! Go and listen to this from the gorgeous Easy Come Easy Go album of covers. Go!
And today I am off for a swim with Jill and I have no idea what else the week is bringing….
In my usual sublime-to-ridiculous way, this week we are hopping from radical inclusion to…. frogs. Yes, frogs. I like frogs.
Also newts, dragonflies, toads and bats (the flying sort, not me).
This handsome chap lives in our garden, and takes no sh*t from anyone.
This aquatic turn of mind was sparked by a last-thing-on-Friday email from our lovely project manager Liz, who is currently thinking about the logistics of getting power onto our new site and – as a pond is featured in the plans – there was a question about how much water would be in it so we’d know how powerful the pump would need to be.
Now, I do not know a great deal about ponds (other than about acclimatising myself to them in the wild) and I know even less about how to calculate the volume of a pond from a flat plan. ‘It looks quite big’, I hazarded. I suspect this was not very helpful.
I don’t know much about frogs either, so I enlisted the assistance of my Beloved who knows about things that happen outside in the garden. He dug a wildlife pond in ours a couple of years ago, which does not as yet have a frog but I live in hope and whenever he finds Tiny* when he’s gardening he puts him in the pond.
Tiny
*Tiny is my newt…sorry
In my head the pond on the new site is not a sterile, shallow water feature which will inevitably be filled with paddling small people without so much as a pondskater to be seen, but a proper wildlife pond where we can have pond-dipping, spot dragonflies and bees and butterflies, and attract all sorts of exciting wildlife including bats who definitely live in Islington and who could be encouraged to come and live on our site if we had a source of quality bugs for them. The pond in my head is raised so people can sit around the edges and people who use wheelchairs can do the pond-dipping activities too. One end of it is a bog garden and the other end is deeper, making a home for things that like deeper water for the laying of frogspawn. (It will have a chickenwire frame over it, so we can lift it for activities and maintenance but cats and would-be paddlers can’t fall in).
Small toad in the strawberry bed
There will be plants like irises and things that oxygenate the water, grasses around it and insect-attracting plants to make this little corner a wildlife haven. My Beloved and I spent the next hour delving into wildlife ponds (starting here) and discovered that you only need a pump if there’s fish – who are apex predators in the pond, and eat all the other things – or if you’re having a fountain. Wildlife ponds don’t need them, but they do like oxygenating plants which also provide cover for tiny wildlife. If we did have a pump it would need a filter to prevent the tadpoles and froglets being sucked up and mangled.
Islington has the lowest amount of green space per person of all the London boroughs, and increasingly where green space is being planted it isn’t publicly accessible. When teachers were consulted waaayyy back in 2023 they wanted to be able to come to the site to explore biodiversity and bringing water back onto the site will be key to attracting wildlife. The site’s history is inextricably linked with the history of water in London, too, so a pond makes sense. Hopefully the pond-in-my-head will become reality, complete with frogs…
Things making me happy this week
Coffee with Brian and Anhar from London Museum on Tuesday morning.
A catch-up with Cath on Wednesday evening in the local pub, where my existence was met with ‘what are YOU doing in here?’ from my daughter
An exciting meeting with Apple at their Battersea offices, which they described as ‘joyful’ and said my creative activity was ‘supercool’ and that they were going to try it with their kids. I’m not sure they’d seen paper and pencils for a while…
…and the trip back to the office was on the Uberboat to Bankside, with a walk back via St Paul’s and St Bartholomew the Great
I made a start on a new spiderweb scarf using the gorgeous yarn I bought last week at the Wool Show, made a pair of dragonscale mittens for my colleague’s birthday as she feels the cold, and started a hexi cardi with yarn from the stash.
Sunday at the Waltham Abbey Wool Show with Heather, where we squished a lot of yarn and I was quite well-behaved. When I got back I got all my skeins out of the stash and turned them into balls so I have no excuse not to use them – thank heavens for the winder and swift gadgets!
Open Day at Waltham Forest College with Thing 2, where she hopes to go in September
Impressing Thing 2 with my excellent French accent when she made me try on a beret. Well, who doesn’t do ‘Allo ‘Allo impressions under those circumstances? I am, apparently, ridiculous.
On Monday afternoon I had one of those newfangled online chats with Claire Adler, a heritage, culture and community consultant who – a long time ago when she was still at Hackney Museum and I was still a teacher – was the person who got me involved in museum learning through a teacher focus group. A few months ago she posted on LinkedIn about the idea of ‘capable environments’, which are those where everyone can thrive. You can read more about them here. As I may have mentioned once or twice, my current job is at a small arts charity which is in the process of building a new home in the heart of Islington, and we are committed to being radically inclusive, and a place of belonging and welcome for everyone.
This is a big ambition for a small organisation, but one we’re passionate about and we dedicate significant time to looking at what we’re doing through the lens of access and inclusion. I spend a lot of time talking to other organisations, and to people who may not have ‘a visit to a gallery’ on their to-do list, and for whom cultural activity comes quite a long way down the list of priorities for a whole range of reasons. This is particularly so while we’re still mired in the depths of the cost-of-living crisis. Even a ‘free’ venue has things that need to be negotiated, especially when you have children who can spot a museum shop or cafe a mile off.
Cultural confidence is another blocker: is this a place for me? Will people know I’ve never been to a gallery before? What do I do while I’m there? Will there be ‘people like me’ there too? Can I take my own lunch? Is there a prayer room/quiet space/changing places toilet? What happens if my son/daughter/family member has a meltdown? For so many people, a spur-of-the-moment visit isn’t an option, and this is doubly so if it’s out of the comfort zone or a new place.
Physical access is another concern. We’re in an extremely fortunate position in that we’re not redeveloping an existing museum or gallery but rather bringing a derelict building back into use and so have a pretty blank slate when it comes to designing out any barriers that prevent access. Bolting on mitigations after the fact is always harder, especially in historic buildings. There’s lots of handy regulations and information out there to help you, too, and consultants who’ll assess your site, your offer and so on.
But…. if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past seven years of co-design, co-creation, co-production, co-curation and conversation (isn’t that a nicer word than ‘consultation’?) it’s that you can read up all you like, you can bring your own experience to bear and that of those you care for and spend time with (‘lived’ experience and ‘loved’ experience, as it was described in a webinar I attended not long ago) but there’s no substitute for going out there and asking the people who you hope will become your core audience and the best future advocates for your site.
Obviously you can’t recruit a representative of every single group of people to sit on an ‘access panel’ and (since we believe in paying people for their time) we definitely can’t afford to. So how do we ensure that people and their needs are not only represented but included in what we’re doing? Particularly as including specific groups of people automatically excludes others, which is the opposite of what we’re going to do with the Centre.
First, we’re taking the Social Model of Disability as our starting point, and working from the principle that removing barriers and considering people’s needs before we build makes things better for everyone – for example, if you’re hanging an exhibition consider who needs to see the images before you put them up rather than having to provide ramps or steps after you’ve opened. Trust people to know what they need, and be open to hearing them. When we committed to co-creation at Young V&A we spent a lot of time considering what this meant in practice, and what it meant in the end was that everything we thought we knew – as people who had been children at some point – was wrong, so we needed to throw preconceptions out of the window and be open to being guided by the participants. I called it ’embracing the chaos’ and some of those projects were absolutely chaotic but truly joyous and mind-opening experiences. I still have the odd conversation where people want an idea of what the outcome of a co-project will be, but I remain committed to genuine co-ness. It would be easier if I could say ‘yeah, it’ll be x or y’ but that’s imposing our wants on people and not being guided by theirs.
Admitting you don’t know everything when you’re supposed to be the experts is quite hard – but people of all ages are the experts in their own lives, and doubly so when you consider intersectionality as well.
And this is where conversation comes in, of course – chatty, informal moments as part of other events such as our play activities over the summer where one of the questions we asked was what would help them to visit as families. We’d made it explicit when we recruited families that everyone was welcome, and considered their needs when we planned events. As guided by the social model rather than the medical model, we asked what they needed to make their visits easier rather than asking for unnecessary medical information. Someone telling me they have a diagnosis of this or that is meaningless, but telling me that their visit can be made easier with ear defenders, a well-signposted accessible toilet, a quiet room, step-free access etc – that’s helpful, non-intrusive and ensuring these and other facilities and equipment are freely available and that this information is easily found on a website benefits everyone.
Working with organisations like Euan’s Guide and looking to people like the accessible museum award-winning Barnsley Museums is also good practice – and one of the best things about museum and galleries and the people who work in them is that as a general rule we love talking about what we do to other people so there’s lots of advice available about how to do things well. Yes, it would be quicker if we didn’t talk to people about everything from physical access through to exhibitions via signage, play, learning programmes and what people want to do when they’re through the doors, but how can we be radically inclusive and representative of all our visitors, staff and volunteers if we’re selective about the voices we hear and the people at the metaphorical table?
My vision as Head of Learning and Participation is that when we open the doors we’ll be somewhere that’s part of people’s daily routine: on the way home from school families stop in to spend time in the gardens or trying their hand at whatever’s on offer in the creative space; that we’re the go-to for somewhere to go on a rainy day; that teens come and hang out with us because they know they’re welcome; that we get to know our locals by name. Last week’s inspiring talk by Amy Akino-Wittering at Young V&A about their successful and radically inclusive front-of-house recruitment process will hopefully guide our own process later in the year. Watch this space….
Things making me happy this week
Interesting inclusive faith training on Thursday
12k walk on Saturday morning
A great meeting with someone about a project related to one of my favourite writers
Bumping into Jill at St Paul’s though I was unable to convince her to sack off her meeting and head home with me instead!
A visit to talk to the team at Langley Academy, where museum learning is built into the curriculum…
…which meant I got to stay overnight with London sister and have coffee with my Eton buddy
A visit to Lift Youth Hub to meet the team and envy their views over London
One of the least fun things about any job these days is the performance management process, or at least the annual review bit of it. Don’t get me wrong – I have a lovely line manager, I work with a great team on a fantastic project and I’ve loved every job I’ve had in the sector, even in the tough times – and I tend to assume that if I’m doing anything disastrously wrong someone would have mentioned it. Still, every year I have several sleepless nights before the meeting and feel a terrible sense of impending doom.
For years in a previous role these reviews were a meaningless process, as I was on a spot salary so didn’t get any annual pay rises anyway. The year I did brilliantly, writing a unit for the London Curriculum and being learning advocate on a blockbuster exhibition, they actually took away the unconsolidated rise from the previous two years and gave me a 3.5% pay cut as no one was getting a rise that year. The letter telling me this was waiting for me when I got home from the glowing review meeting. It was also understood that only the people at the main site could get the coveted ‘purple’ grade – which I wasn’t. (For some reason it took this organisation a couple of years to get the Investors in People badge – can’t think why). Another year, they increased my targets by 28% and cut my budget by 32%, so we were set up to fail by a director who refused to listen to what was actually possible (think Boris Johnson in a badly fitting skirt). That director – not the team, the line manager or the job – was why I left that role.
So why, every year, do I spend several nights pre-meeting wide awake and tossing and turning with stress-related insomnia? It’s a complete mystery but I suspect its quite similar to that feeling of guilt you get when you see a policeman even though you know for a fact that you haven’t committed any crimes. Perhaps there’s something they know that you don’t, and they’re waiting to spring it on you. Perhaps there was a target no one mentioned to you and you haven’t met it as you didn’t know it was there. Paranoid? Moi?
My current job is in a small arts organisation (with big ideas) which is headed by actual humans so the review was very straightforward and positive and helpful and I still have a job. Which is nice.
I’m not sure what can really be done to improve this, really: we’re all held accountable to various standards and there has to be some way of measuring this. I think I should just be grateful that the kids haven’t cottoned onto SMART targets yet – they might start asking me to stop burning dinner or putting mushrooms in it, leave fewer random scraps of fabric and thread about the place and rationalise my books and shoes.
The Families in Museums Network meeting at Young V&A this week. Slightly linked to the above – where the amazing Ops team made the Front of House recruitment process radically inclusive and considerably less stressful for the applicants. However, it did make me feel that I’ve been knocking about this sector for a very long time…
Finishing my portable crochet project in time for the cold snap. It’s made of alpaca and it’s snuggly and soft. I’ve also made some progress on the blanket.
Choosing fabrics from the stash and a pattern for a quilt project (though not the one I’d been planning. Go figure, eh?) with puffins on. Here’s the ones I started with,, though not all have made the final cut. Some of them are sparkly.
Today we’re off for an icy swim (water temp was 1.5 degrees on Saturday – considerably warmer than the air though!) and wondering why we do this to ourselves. Wonder if I can take a cat with me to keep my clothes warm?
See you next week, when I’ve defrosted…
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading
Ten Big Ones/Eleven on Top/Twelve Sharp/Lean Mean Thirteen/Fearless Fourteen – Janet Evanovich
I think, if nothing else, the past fifty odd years of my life have proved that New Year’s resolutions are a bit of a waste of time, so having got that thinking out of the way I can get on with 2025 in my usual fashion – doing as I would be done by, trying not to eat too much cake, making a dent in the contents of the sheds and not being too lazy. This all seems doable. As I mentioned last week I have signed up to an event in March, so need to train for that – I love to walk but am essentially lazy so need a target to aim at. As Tan said about me in 2023, wind her up and point her in the right direction and she’ll just keep going.
Of course, there is still a lot of cake left but will try and ration my consumption….
This week was New Year’s Eve and as has become the tradition over the past ten years or so we spent it with our village gang of friends. Our plan was to go early, spend an hour or so and then come home when the grandbaby we were looking after for the night started getting grumpy. What we hadn’t reckoned with was Mason’s night owl habits – he was having a whale of a time dancing, playing with balloons, being cute at people, eating party food and so on. We eventually wrestled him back into the buggy at 1am, much to his disgust, and marched him home to bed.
I was on night duty with him, sleeping on the couch next to his travel cot, and I am clearly out of practice at this, since my lot are all in their teens – I woke at every snuffle and hiccup and by the time his mama rolled in at 8am with Thing 1 after they’d been out to a rave I was very ready for my bed! Mason, on the other hand, woke up at 6.30am, promptly stole my pillow and blanket while I was warming up some milk for him and went back to sleep leaving me no space at all. Needless to say I spent a lot of New Years Day in bed. Still, as I may have mentioned before, there is nothing quite as snuggly as an armful of warm sleepy baby – at least until your arm goes dead.
I don’t think Lulu is quite as fond of overnighting babies – she’s been quite mad this week, but she’s now got a new tower to play with. Toddlers are big fans of cats but the feeling is not mutual…
Apparently the Uniqlo round mini bag has been going viral recently for being lightweight, washable, handy for travel and being able (according to my sister) to fit an entire bottle of wine inside which I can see would be very useful. The social media reviews tend to talk about 500ml water bottles, but she has her priorities, OK?
The Uniqlo one comes in a quilted option, a corduroy option, as a lined version with a sporty strap, and in a whole variety of colours. Tan had bought the black version and kindly demonstrated the booze-holding capacity at the Christmas market in Ealing – I’d already been looking at the red version while shopping on Black Friday but hadn’t bought it as it wasn’t yellow. I like yellow when it comes to bags. When I was buying my parents’ Christmas presents I gave in to the red one as it was still on sale – obviously it still wasn’t yellow but I found a pattern on Etsy for a dupe and spent a couple of days between Christmas and New Year making a couple in different colours.
The pattern was easy to follow (all mistakes were my own, like getting one of the lining panels the wrong way up!) and the outcome was the same size as the Uniqlo original. This pattern has a zippy pocket on the inside which was surprisingly easy to install, two small side panel pockets and a main space which does – just about – fit the bottle of wine in the same way that the Uniqlo one does. All the fabric and zips came from my stash – a remnants bundle of waxed cotton provided the outer fabrics, and some quilting cotton featuring lucky cats and a comic book print from the V&A sample sale a couple of years ago came in handy for the lining.
I did need to buy the hardware as I wanted an adjustable strap but if you always wear your bags the same length you can make it without these bits. You could also make it without the zippy pocket if you were after a quick gift for someone. I happen to have a lot of waxed cotton so can see me making more of these (get your requests in now, people! I have various colours (not purple or teal, sorry M)). I tested it out on my commute on Thursday and it fits my phone, glasses case, earphone pouch easily but not my current portable project but that’s because I didn’t try and squash it in.
Things making me happy this week
The possibility of snow, though I fear I will be let down by Essex weather again
Siestas with warm cats as winter is finally biting (see point 1)
The microwavable boots I had for Christmas I had from the TTS (see point 2)
Quiet day in the office on Thursday where NO ONE was asking me to do stuff. I can be forgiven for being late to both Teams meetings, yes? What were all these other people doing working?
Putting Christmas away tidily till next year
Home made orange, cinnamon and cranberry bread in the bread maker
Finally mastering Yorkshire puddings
This isEngland – I didn’t pay any attention the first time round but am really enjoying it
Wallace and Grommit – Vengeance Most Fowl – No Parkin! on the Yorkshire border side made me laugh out loud
A rainbow of fat quarters for a quilting project just awaiting the purple shades before I can start planning
Quilting this nine-patch ready for backing. I *think* it’s a Riley Blake fabric but it may also be Moda. It’s got stars on and it was charm packs.
With any luck the lake will be frozen tomorrow so we can pretend we’re orcas or polar bears or something – a good ice swim always makes us feel like superwomen!
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
High Five/Hot Six/Seven Up/Hard Eight/To The Nines – Janet Evanovich
BBC Dramatisations of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels (Audible)
A wide range of quilt books in search of inspiration!
Welcome to that weird period between Christmas and New Year, when there’s still a lot of Christmas cake left but you’ve run out of pigs in blankets, the Christmas specials are over and you probably have to go back to work at some point in the not too distant future. I have a giant pile of ironing to do, a whole lot of unfinished projects that I should probably be getting on with, and I have had some truly excellent naps instead.
On Sunday Rachel, Jill and I went for a very chilly swim at 5.5 degrees – my fingers were agony coming back to life afterwards – followed by coffee with Edith and Miriam in Harlow, and a bit of shopping while they got their nails done. I’ve found there’s no point getting my nails done as crochet trashes them! Later in the day I started trying to retrieve the dining table from under a pile of crafting materials. I introduced Miriam and H to Wheatus’s festive classic ‘Christmas Dirtbag’, which they hadn’t heard before. The festive film of the day was Miracle on 34th St (the 1994 version). I still love the 1947 version more.
Monday was baking day with Thing 2, while listening to about five million Christmas songs, none of which were Justin Beiber or Mariah Carey. One of them was ‘A Christmas Song’, which I first encountered on a compilation called ‘Nigel-Approved Christmas Fodder’. We lost Nigel a year ago, but the playlist remains my December go-to (though I did delete Mariah Carey from it. Sorry Nigel.) The stollen was made. The Christmas cake was iced with lazy ready-made icing and some sugar snowmen and penguins and polar bears. We also made chocolate salami after a colleague brought some in as a treat. It was amazing, though I did have to use rum as I couldn’t find any Grand Marnier in any of the supermarkets (and I had rum in the house). I cleaned the oven, too – after an explosive beef joint last week coated the inside of the oven in yuk. The children tidied their rooms, with assistance from my Beloved who insisted on telling me about it in forensic detail, and excavated several tons of laundry. Truly my life was complete. The festive film of the day was Gremlins – who doesn’t love the Mogwai?
On Tuesday the final presents arrived, much to my relief – there’s always something last minute! Thing 2 and I were back in the kitchen baking stained glass biscuits to use up the broken candy canes and two sorts of Welshcakes – cranberry and orange as well as the traditional ones. I remembered to get the turkey crown out to defrost along with the sausagemeat, and to sign up to an ultra marathon in March (does 25k count? It’s only 15 and a half miles). The festive to-do list has definitely helped this week. In the afternoon I popped to the neighbour’s with some Welshcakes and had a coffee with Sue, her dad and the sock-stealing Bella-dog. In the evening realisation that while I’d remembered to get the turkey and sausagemeat out, I hadn’t got anything out for dinner so I took a vote and we had a kebab. The movie of the day: Arthur Christmas.
Wednesday was, of course, Christmas Day and we’d been invited to TT1’s for the afternoon – I was taking the stuffing, which I made in the morning and which is apparently the best stuffing her partner has ever had in his life. As expected, it was glorious chaos – 14 people aged from four months to 55 years, two dogs (one very large and one very small), piles of presents, enormous quantities of food. We managed to fit all the presents, all the kids and my folding table into our little Kia Ceed which was the equivalent of a very tricky sudoku.
Boxing Day began with a walk and a coffee with Miriam and the dogs, complete with banana bread. I had an excellent nap in the afternoon and in the evening we had our own Christmas dinner with my late MIL’s angel chimes on the table. Lulu sat on the spare chair and watched us intently, but it turned out she just wanted some turkey. Ever since she recovered from her operation (which has caused her insurance premiums to double) she’s been far more interested in food, especially people food which was never a thing for her before. While I was making the pigs in blankets she sat at my feet and shouted at me, even though she doesn’t like sausages. In the evening we watched Gavin & Stacey: The Finale, and the Doctor Who Christmas Special – I loved the cheeky Mr Ben reference!
On Friday Jill and I started the day with an early walk with to see the cows down at the farm, as well as Wilbur the pig and a lot of hopeful horses. I spent the afternoon looking for inspiration in my quilting books – particularly Stuart Hillard’s books. He does amazing things with colour but I never have the patience to recreate his patterns. I have a plan though… In the evening a gang of us got together for a walk to Marconi Bridge to see the Epping Ongar Lights Express going through to the station. There weren’t any trackside lights this year which was a bit disappointing but the train was everything we expected!
Saturday began with a swim with Rachel, Jill and Sue at 6.1 degrees (that 0.6 of a degree did not make a difference to the tingly fingers!) and then Thing 2 and I took a spur of the moment trip to Harlow to see if there was anything good in the sales. We had lunch at Wagamamas and a good mooch around the shops – I found a black maxi dress in River Island reduced by more than half, and the jeans I was after were also half price. It was foggy and cold, so the buses running to time was definitely a bonus – though heating was apparently too much to hope for!
I know I really ought to be doing some useful things (like finishing the quilt I started in the summer) while I’m off but I’m quite enjoying watching TV, doing the odd row of crochet blanket and spending some quality time snoring with the cats. The ironing won’t do itself though, sadly, but I do have a nice new iron thanks to my amazon voucher as my good one for sewing has taken to tripping the fuses in the house every time it steams. For those of you worried about me, I spent the rest on a new leather jacket as mine is as old as Thing 1 and definitely looking a bit battered.
Normal service will probably resume sometime next week – we’re babysitting for GT2 on New Year’s Eve so coffee tequila won’t be on the menu this year!
Same time next Sunday…
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
Two for the Dough/Three to Get Deadly/Four to Score – Janet Evanovich
The Perplexing Theft of the Jewel in the Crown/Inspector Chopra and the Million Dollar Car/Murder at the Grand Raj Palace – Vaseem Khan
BBC Dramatisations of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels (Audible)
Aaaand…breathe. The out of office is on, most of the presents are wrapped*, the turkey crown is in the freezer** and the cake is marzipanned and practically hiccupping with the amount of rum it has ingested. The presents for France are in Ealing ready to go over with London sister today, and we had a very delicious lunch at Remoli complete with aperitifs and pudding (affogato, of course). Christmas can now happen.
*Despite definitely having finished the shopping last weekend, I still ended up in Flying Tiger in Ealing Broadway as the stocking presents didn’t look enough.
**We are going to TT1’s for Christmas lunch but the utter horror on Thing 2’s face when she realised this meant I wasn’t doing Christmas dinner was a sight to behold. Yes, I am a sucker but at least I drew the line at buying a full turkey just so I could make soup, despite the face. Boxing Day will be dinner for us then!
On today’s mooch round Ealing we visited the Christmas markets that seem to be popping up in every available shopping centre – the best was at Pitzhanger Manor, but even that was only about ten stalls. London seems to have taken the idea of these markets but hasn’t really managed to get the hang of them. The one in Ealing Broadway Centre was six stalls, half of which were overpriced food and the others were overpriced tat. There is a limit to the number of scrunchies and Swiftie-style bracelets that any one person really needs, and this is coming from someone who remained faithful to the scrunchie throughout the noughties and still has a bagful in case I decide to grow my hair our again. I went to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park once – when it was free to enter – and swore never, ever, ever again. Having said that, the one on the South Bank is nice but there are way too many people at it, and if there’s one thing I cannot be having with in London it’s people who dither about the place. Chancery Lane tube station has been plagued this week by people in rush hour who go through the gates and then just…stop. Even my sunny disposition has been somewhat taxed by these muppets. Add to this people who can’t read the ‘stand on the right’ signs, people who choose to stop in the middle of pavements for conversations, people who walk slowly in busy places (I would have voted for a slow lane on Oxford Street) and anyone who hangs around by the entrances to tube platforms.
Even less fun this week was trying to despatch a parcel to World of Books – Royal Mail was not an option, only InPost or Collect Plus, so I chose InPost as they had two lockers in Epping and Collect Plus are in weird little shops. One locker was full, the other was broken – so I had to go to Ongar. It cost me more in bus fare to post the stupid parcel than I was earning from the books. This is the downside of living in a village in between two small towns, of course. Well, that and the buses which are a nightmare at the moment thanks to roadworks in at least four separate places on the route.
Things making me happy this week
Coffee and a catch-up with Rhiannon and cuddles with baby Otis on Friday, and the best (only) mince pie I have had this year made by Raf.
A Christmas drink with my lovely colleagues on Thursday at St John
Cat socks
Starting a non-Christmas themed crochet project
The library getting all the books I’d requested in at once – binging Vaseem Khan’s ‘Inspector Chopra’ series. Highly recommended.
I had my hair cut on Saturday afternoon and during the usual chat the stylist said she wished she was as chilled out as me about Christmas. Anyone who knows me knows that at this stage in the festive month it’s less about being chilled out and more about fatalism: whatever I do or don’t do, it’s going to happen anyway so I might as well give in. The outside lights are finally up so we are longer the sole dark corner of our little Essex street, and the shopping is all done bar the food and the presents actually being delivered to my house to wrap and then cart over to Ealing to hand to my sister next weekend. Thing 2 and I braved Harlow today, which was exactly as horrible as I expected it to be, so stocking presents are also sorted. (T2: Do you want me to come in Superdrug with you Mum? Me: It’s up to you – do you want the magic of Christmas ruined or not?) There were people singing carols, a tree walking about the place, a talking postbox that must have been driving the Trespass team to unprecedented levels of fury, a crammed Santa’s grotto filled with frazzled parents and WAY too many people.
The trip to Harlow was also to go to the cinema to see Paddington in Peru and to get her very belated birthday ear piercing. This was her first needle piercing and the lady said she was the best fainter ever – I was less impressed, as I had to catch her before she hit the floor. I manoeuvred her onto the bench, but it was a close call!
Paddington was enchanting, with Olivia Colman as a not-suspicious-at-all nun, Antonio Banderas as a lot of people, and the usual stellar support from an A-list of British actors. Julie Walters as Mrs Bird gets a bit more airtime in this instalment, Sally Hawkins was missed as Mrs Brown (Emily Mortimer is just a bit too mumsy) and the return of Phoenix Buchanan was worth waiting around for. Considering the time of year there were no trailers that really jumped out at us for our next outing, but I suppose Moana 2 is already out there. (As an aside, my Beloved is watching the new version of Ben-Hur – honestly, doesn’t he know that biblical epics are for Easter??)
We’ve been hitting the Christmas watching quite hard this week too, with Violent Night and Elf making the cut, as well as a nostalgic treat with the BBC showing the Box of Delights for the 40th anniversary (ouch). The special effects and language are a bit dated but the story remains magical. I looked up the book on Amazon as I don’t think I have ever read it and, lo and behold, the most recent version is illustrated by none other than Quentin Blake…
…whose Box of Treasures is also available on iPlayer – a series of animated versions of his picture books. The two latest instalments, Angel Pavement and Loveykins are now out, and to tie in with this our team at work have been working with BBC Teach to develop a Live Lesson for Key Stage 2 based on Zagazoo, another of the treasures. These live lessons are great, supporting the curriculum and complete with downloadable resources. They’re completely free and remain online afterwards for teachers (and home educators and so on) to use, and you can watch it online from 9am on the 17th or ‘live’ and interactive at 11am. How was that for a brilliant segue?
Other things making me happy this week:
An impromptu team lunch on Monday which left me craving a jacket potato with cheese.
Coffee with Amanda
Taking my little family out to dinner on Friday
A lovely community event making festive gifts in Holborn
My Christmas Spotify playlist
Today I’m off for a chilly swim with the woolly hat gang, a trip to Tesco to do the Christmas food shop and some baking later on. Even though we’re off to TT1’s for the big day the kids were horrified that they wouldn’t get a Christmas dinner at home so guess what I’ll be up to on Boxing Day?
Same time next week, unless the interminable drizzle has washed us all away…
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
One For The Money – Janet Evanovich
Hogfather – Terry Pratchett (Audible – both versions!)
A Child’s Christmas in Wales/Under Milk Wood – Dylan Thomas (Audible)
What Kirsty did next 