Thursday, 21 April 2016

Moth Menace (Tineola bisselliella)

Getty images

Small with shiny, dusty wings, moths look completely harmless,
but if they find your woolies drawer, they'll leave your jumpers armless.

What's worse the little blighters seem to have discerning taste,
so it's not the chunky hand knits that's their favourite nesting place,
No, it's cashmere that's the yarn of choice, CASHMERE if you please!
and when I shook mine out last week it looked like holey cheese.

That wasn't all, they'd had a ball! Made me feel quite queasy,
so I googled how to shift them.

Turns out it isn't easy.

Moth Balls work though not just moths who think the things are lethal,
what's the point in using them if all your clothes smell evil?

But we were well past the prevention stage; way too late, for sure;
can't hot wash my best jumpers, I need another cure.

So I stick them in the freezer, a few items at a time,
and pray it kills the pesky eggs and larva in its prime.

Then I buy a cotton zip-up bag to fill my woolies drawer
and every time it's opened there's a waft of lavender.

Now I smell like Yardley's soap, and finding jumpers is a bore,
But moths I've got your number,
touch my cashmere and it's WAR.

(And if you doubt me at all
just count the smudges on the wall...)

Sunday, 17 April 2016

Wrong Trousers

So, we drove over an hour from where we were staying to the thermal baths at Casteljaloux, only to be told the boys weren’t allowed into the pool in their baggy trunks. 

A raised eyebrow and a sharp ‘Non’ every time a pair was presented for inspection. 

The French can be funny about mens’ swimmers, but we should have known, we have been caught out before. Of course they had some skimpy tight black nylon types for sale - probably mainly for the Brits - but at 25 Euros a pair, we were the ones who looked horrified.  

Not a totally wasted trip though, because the youngest and I had sensible costumes and passed the inspection. My husband couldn't stop himself asking if our towels had to be a certain size too. She looked at him as if he was a bit simple and shook her head.  

And you know what? I thought for about the hundredth time since Friday how good it was to have him back. Him and his wonky old sense of humour.

Nine months away on tour (with a couple of trips home). Not the longest, nor the shortest, but definitely the last.

I know I’ve made the mistake of saying that before, but this time I’m confident I’m not tempting fate - partly because he’s getting on a bit and hasn’t got that long left in the army, but mainly because I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it again. Ever.

There has’t been a lot to laugh about over the last nine months. This one really knocked the stuffing out of me. I’m not completely sure why - he’s been away for longer and to more risky places. Maybe it’s because I’m older and the kids are older (and more challenging I think); maybe it’s been a slow build up over the years of tours and weekly commuting until there simply wasn’t room left to deal with more. Anyway, I reached my limit. Hit the wall. Whatever you want to call it. Just didn’t cope so well.

It felt like such an effort sometimes not to show the anxiety and despair bubbling up inside; to keep the routine going; keep the kids happy. Keep it normal. There were many days when April seemed impossibly far away. The end of a rainbow. 

But here we are! Somehow we made it. Though I do feel as if I kind of rolled across the finish line, a bit broken and spent, like the snail in Turbo.

France was a great idea - a sort of buffer - time to get used to each other, away from the pressures of home, because as much as it’s lovely to have him back, it does take a while for things to slot into place. A chance to breathe before I give him a to-do list as long as your arm. 

And it does feel good to share again; to have a laugh; to start letting go. 

Good to have my best friend back.

Sunday, 3 April 2016


Back to the beach where we played in the sand,
time didn't matter and nothing was planned.

Back to the sea that made us squeal from the cold,
laughing and splashing, no care in the world.

Back to those rocks that are made for adventure,
hands dipped in pools, just never quite sure...

Back to the place with the pockets of treasure,
so many shells all tumbled together.

Back to the beach to watch my kids play
next to the shadows of yesterday.

Linking up with Photolife's My Sunday Photo and Victoria's Prose for Thought

Sunday, 20 March 2016

Shelf life - Sunday photo

Believe it or not the rest of our house is relatively clutter free - but I made up for it here...

It's sort of like the old me escaped and went on a trinket/toy/tat gathering binge.

To be fair, many of the toys are ones I've made and can't face selling, and there's a lot of stuff rescued from my 8 year old daughter's room. She doesn't like ANYTHING on surfaces (what's wrong with her??) - I'll often find a small pile of unwanted nicknacks outside her bedroom door. Can't bear to get rid of them, so I shuffle things along.... and make a space.

Linking up with Photalife's My Sunday Photo

Sunday, 13 March 2016

Photo shoot - Sunday photo

Just back from a busy two day photo shoot for the animal board books and next craft book. Not as glamorous as it might sound, but unquestionably more interesting than my usual Thursday/Friday routine! We were in a basement studio somewhere in east London; facing a small but significant cardboard mountain of stuff to do.

I spent all day on my feet, or leaning over a table, holding my breath while I moved animals and tiny flowers/butterflies/snakes into place. Knocked the trees over a few times and the whole lot went like dominos which wasn't at all funny... Heaps of patience required. And my back's in bits.

I've spent a daft number of hours over the last month, making all the teeny finishing touches, like squirrels, rabbits, daisies, patchwork hills.
Many, many things.
Hope they'll make a difference.

Walking and tubing it back to Paddington on a Friday evening with a collection of shoe boxes, and a large art folder was a nightmare. So, so relieved to get to the station; felt like punching the air. But that good feeling didn't last long. The train was heaving. Ended up standing all the way to Bristol Parkway because I hadn't reserved a ticket.
Won't be doing that again.

Linking up with My Sunday Photo at Photalife.

Thursday, 3 March 2016

Easy Easter Bunny - #EasterCrafts

These make really fun table decorations for Easter day, as they're a perfect size for hiding a chocolate egg or two!

You'll need:
2 cardboard tubes - preferably different widths (we used a kitchen paper roll and a toilet paper tube)
A piece of coloured paper and paint to match
cotton wool ball
PVA/craft glue
black felt tip pen.

1. For the bunny's body, cut a 7cm piece from the wider tube, and a 5cm piece from the smaller one for the head. The quickest and easiest way to do this is to mark your measurement on the tube, squeeze the sides together just under the mark, and cut straight across the tube.
Paint them your chosen colour.

2. Cut a 6cmx12cm piece of coloured paper and fold it in half, lengthways.

3. About a quarter of the way up, on the folded side, draw a short line across (no more than a cm) and then draw a rabbit's ear, using all the paper space available, right up to the top. Try to make both sides look as even as possible.

4. Cut out and open up.

5. For the front paws, cut another piece of paper - 4cmx10cm this time, and fold in half lengthways again.

6. At the top of one end, draw a rounded paw. Cut out and open up.

7. Glue the bottom part of the ears to the head, then glue this to the body.

8. Brush glue on the other piece of paper, except for the paws, and stick to the bottom of your bunny so you can see the paws at the front. This helps hold the bunny together. Glue on a small piece of cotton wool for the fluffy tail.

9. When dry, draw a face with the black felt tip pen and add chocolate!