Moo Beginnings

I've never really cared much for cows... that's to say, of all the livestock I would love to have (some day), cows never really featured much on my agenda.

Our garden backs on to open fields, being bang smack in the middle of a working farm means there are many cows, it's nice to see them from the windows, to hear their gentle moo's as I pass by, they seem nice, and gentle, but did not inspire much of a reaction from me, until...

Our landlord took down several large trees from the rear of our garden, I wouldn't normally condone such senseless tree slaying, but they were fast growing leylandi, ugly, and they blocked out sunlight and views, so they came down, and behold, the cows, can now lean right into our garden.





Something quite unexpected happenned.
The children like the cows a lot, this isn't so surprising. However, there is one cow, she looks different from the others, the same sweet Jersey eyes, but somehow different. They don't care much for treats, they don't like to be touched, but this cow, she is different.

She hangs around long after her friends had moved to the other side of the field, she bows her head low so I can tickle her ears, I like this, she has a little heart shaped tuft atop her head, it makes me smile....



I arrive home from work, and there she is, waiting....



Now, I can call her over, a quick whistle or deep moo, and she turns slowly, watches me for a while, then ambles over, slow, calm, patient...



She doesn't have a name, just a number... I toyed with the idea of naming her, but she isn't mine to name. I toyed with the idea of making her mine...
but what does a family do with 20 litres of milk a day? One can only drink so much milk, or eat so much cheese and cream, and she might get lonely. I even bought a book about keeping cows. The timing is all wrong, but it has opened up a new vista, one with cows in it, some day...

but for now, she's still here, I will miss her when she is gone.

Peepo!

It has been a little while, a nice break, a much needed rest, recharging batteries, trying to see the world with fresh eyes.

Having reviewed my blog archives, I notice I have never been a very consistent blogger, and I spent a long while wondering about why. I concluded I have been a little lost since we left France, the purpose of this blog became somewhat skewed, and too, people change, I have changed, and I guess I am not really sure what I want to say anymore, or what is the aim of this here blog.

When I was younger, and studying art, I was expect to record my design process via sketchbooks. I never did like that much, I had it in my head that sketchbooks needed to look a certain way, that one would open them up and ooh and ahh over the contents, I felt that my sketchbooks should impress upon the viewer my skill as an artist. The result of this was that I wasn't so good at maintaining sketchbooks, I would tear pages out because they didn't look right.

I realise now (seeing how many hundreds of posts I have never posted), that I have done a similar thing here, but I realise something else, much more liberating - I realise that the whole purpose of sketchbook is just to record, document, remember, it doesn't have to be perfect, and I guess this blog is the same.

I don't have to spend hours planning posts, editing photos, worrying about how it will be perceived or what not. I don't have to do much more than just be here, to record, document and remember.... and above else, to be true to ones self.

I was fortunate enough to receive a bursary (scholarship) to study design and embroidery, so I will be sharing my course progress here, amongst many things, whatever things, just stuff, just keep going... that's what I intend to do. Keep swimming...

The Olympic Yarn Bomber

Just popping back to share this....



Isn't it amazing? You can read more about this super talented and amazing ANONYMOUS yarnbomber here. It's like the Banksy of the knitting world, love it!

A cheery hello to you all :)

A Little Break

Things are a little hectic right now in the hoola household, we have had some crazy ass weather, illnesses, too much work and of course, the constant hustle and bustle of life with 4 kids - including one very mischevious toddler.



We also lost our sweet old friend Nala, at 15 she was ready to head over the rainbow bridge, and we are all a little lost without her. Nala was around long before any of my children, my loyal friend and first class food vaccuum, AKA pig dog - I have no idea how I would have weaned 4 kids AND kept my sanity without her, Pip is too much of a fussy eater to take her place, and it is somewhat disconcerting to find myself sweeping up rice and various other spilled foods from under our dining table at meal times. Oh Nala, you will be missed, and not just for your expert food clearing abilities.



On that note, I am taking a wee blog break, just for a short while. I am still around and sneak peaking at your lovely blogs, and will comments when I can of course.
Take care sweet friends and see you again very soon :)

Magic Feather Horse

Well of course I rolled in to wish everyone a Happy New Year late, fashionably late? My new years resolution is to work on my tardiness :)

I spied a Magic Feather Horse during the holidays....



We had to ride on them of course....





Oh, and due to popular demand, I proudly present to you the first scarf I ever knitted. The faux Jack Wills scarf.





Obviously, I did not knit the Faux Jack Wills hat, this is indeed real Jack Wills, because as awesome as I try to be, I am not so awesome that I can learn to knit fairisle, indeed I have baked babie's faster than it has taken to learn to knit and purl, hence I fear fairisle knitting might be some way off, or at least until we can upload new skills into our brains, Matrix style. In which case, I would also learn Ju Jitsu and how to play chess like a bad ass, and maybe waffle making French style.

Wishing you all the very best for 2012 :)

EDIT: The prettyfull brunette is my adorable little sister Sophie, and not me!

Another one under the belt

For the longest time I have wanted to learn how to knit. I even did a knitting lesson a year or so ago, it was nice, I knitted and I purled for a couple of hours and dropped a ton of stitches and then came home and felt disabled without a teacher, and work and lack of transport (I still cannot drive) made attending more knitting classes prohibitive, and I never knitted again.

My mother can knit, occasionally she knits half of something, she gets bored fast. When Amber was growing in my belly she started knitting her a pants and cardigan outfit, some 18 months later she finally completed the newborn sized outfit and so it did not fit toddler sized Amber, instead, newborn Hazel wore it for about 3 days, before her legs grew a billion inches (how do babie's do that?) and it didn't fit her either.
So all my life, I have had this marvellous untapped knitting resource in my own mother, but there are plenty of reasons I did not tap it.

For a start, my mother is just not a great teacher. When I was pregnant with Bluebelle and living in rural France I decided I needed to learn to drive. I came back to the UK to do an intensive course, supplemented by lessons from the parents (this was somewhat embarassing given that I was 30 year old woman and not a teen) in the evenings. My dad was great, kinda freaked out but calm all the same, my mother made it about 500 yards down the road with me driving, before yanking at the steering wheel and pulling on the handbreak, all the while screaming that I clearly had a death wish, I actually got out of the car and made her drive me home.

My mother has one way of doing things, her way. There is no other way, and much like she yanked the steering wheel as my learner driver self pootled down the lane at 10mph, anything I have asked her to help me with has resulted in the same "You suck, let me take over" approach and hence, I stopped asking for help. I have spent years wishing I knew how to use a sewing machine, knit, make clothes or curtains and tons of other stuff, but could not face my own mothers infuriating mode of teaching.

She does the same thing with my kids, and I often see them bawl with frustration as she manhandles their art materials and starts doing their homework for them, I smile and remember the pain in the ass that is her teaching methodology, it tickles me to see them feeling the same as I did, it validates the feelings I had as a child, as well as proving my mother is clearly bat shit crazy.
Honestly, I am painting my mother in a poor light, she is a brilliant, loving and generous woman, she just cannot bare to stand by and watch you do something wrong, she has to dive in and take control, hence, a patient teacher she is not.

Anyhoo, when Hazel expressed an interest in knitting, I thought about sending her over to Nan's, felt bad about the potential fury this would likely cause, then sent her anyway.
Hazel came home a ball of rage, but she could knit. Then she discovered a knitting club at school, and started knitting like a girl posessed. There were some crazy Nan teaching moments, like the time she unravelled about 12 inches of Hazel's knitting, despite her hysterical screams, to fix a hole right at the beginning (that was actually kinda bad but not unheard of behaviour, I told you, bat shit crazy!), but Hazel perservered.

And so it came to be, that this thirty something mama of 4, who desperately wanted to knit, learned not from her own mama, but from her daughter, and oh, how wonderful that is! Get your kids to suffer on your behalf, thats some fine parenting on my part, I am sure you will agree.
There are now balls of yarn all over the house and the constant clickety click of needles making, MAKING. Christmas making, no less. Well, scarves, I am not following patterns yet, but boy I am I excited by the possibilities (socks!!!).



There will be many a scarf filling many a christmas stocking this year. Oh Yes.
Also, did you know, that the village I lived in over in France, was the village of the SHEEP, every kind of sheep on my doorstep, with women hand spinning wool and knitting beautiful things, and oh, to be back there.... so many things I took for granted. I am learning not to do that.

Certainly, I am not taking Hazel for granted, as knitting teachers go, she totally rocks. And my mother... I am learning that a patient student is a pretty good pacifier for an impatient teacher, I might even ask her how to crochet, after a stiff drink, maybe.

Art, Science and the bit in between

Lately my work time doodling has taken on a splodgy organic direction, I am fascinated with the idea of putting things under the microscope and seeing how they look, and translating those visuals somehow into stitch. Of course I don't have a microscope (I need one), but I draw cells, all colours, organic forms, free flowing, I still don't know what it means.

Then today, I found this....





Not cells, but watermarks....



Ghostly when out of focus...



A veil of cells, of sorts...



On a window...



On a Train.... mother natures paint brush.

I took so many photos, until someone asked me what stop we were at, and I realised, I was supposed to get off the train several stops ago.
But I think it was worth it, I can't stop looking at these photos. So many possibilities. Sometimes the most unexpected things inspire the most, and I am wondering how to translate this on to fabric, in stitch, or, with water? colour? coloured water?