Blue...

The beautiful summer skies at the moment remind me just how much I love the colour blue. I thought I'd celebrate all things blue with a little collage of my favourite blue things from around The Little House:

1. This pull-along elephant was a favourite toy for our girls when they were toddlers but now he sits on the wooden toy box waiting for younger visitors to take him for a walk. I love traditional wooden toys and he is a very handsome example with his soft leather ears and red felt saddle.  Elephant is big enough to carry small dolls and can sometimes be found transporting Lego bricks. 

2. These seaside cups were bought while we were on holiday in France many years ago BC (before children) when we didn't think twice about browsing in a compact shop full of breakables.  They are great for morning coffee with lots of room for croissant dipping. 

3.  Joni Mitchell's 'Blue' - well, just because really - I do like to sing  wail along to this CD in the car. Though it has to be said, that the lyrics to pretty much every song on the album contain the most random and bizarre of metaphors.  Take one of my favourites, Case of You, with the line - 'I live in a box of paints' ! 

4 & 7.  This big beautiful bowl was a wedding present.  We've been married nearly 20 years now and it has survived seven house moves intact. The lamp from Royal Copenhagen was also a wedding present from the Danish side of the family.  I love the way the sunlight shines through the crystal. Amazingly, this too has survived the many house moves and the cat's very best attempts to knock it over. 

5. Our shower room window looks out over the sea and so it seems appropriate to have a seaside theme. This mobile used to hang in H's room but she's all teenage glamour now and has left her dolphin obsession behind.  Mind you, when the North Sea wind blows and the window is even a smidgen bit open those dolphins end up in a right tangled state!

6 & 8.  Talking of obsessions, our house is full of seahorses.  Our wedding invitation had two seahorses with tails entwined (it is thought that seahorses bond for life so it's a popular romantic image) and subsequently we are often given, and buy for each other, seahorse-related presents and anniversary gifts. The framed embroidery is a souvenir from a little gallery of hand-crafted delights on the Isle of Skye and the last image is , in fact, a ceramic mold and a present from my sister-in-law.  I have never dared to use it as such and prefer to admire it hanging on our kitchen wall.

This week I have learned...

(image credit:theoccultsection.com)

...that in my new furry boots, warmest winter coat and woolly hat I look like a yeti. Not really the look I was hoping for but good for frightening small children on the playground and I was definitely warm (in fact I thought I was running a temperature as it was such an insulating ensemble)

...that this works better than cough medicine. Also guaranteed to promote high decibel snoring and ensure you have the marital bed to yourself.

(image credit: latestcarinsurancenews.com)

...that it is best to remember to apply make-up to both eyes rather than just one, especially if you want to present a professional image at parents' evening. That's what happens when I try to multi-task, I don't finish anything!

...that it is not a good idea to attempt to eat a brie, grape and watercress sandwich while driving.  The brie was delicious but the grapes and watercress I ended up wearing.

...that the only place where there is any sign of Spring here is in the kitchen and...that S's 'Happy Biscuits' are delicious. 

Are you a Big Softie?

Rufus: he can growl

Rufus looks after the stamps in our home whereas Mr Slow Joe skulks in the teenage debris of H's room.  On the chair in our bedroom, Noel and Bunny like to snuggle up and Wobbly Head Ted sits on top of a pile of L's sporting paperbacks. Yes, you've guessed it, these are just a few of the soft toys that reside in the Little House.  We seem to have more than our fair share of inanimate friends;  bears, elephants, sheep, sloths, whales and pandas - they're all here in wholly unnatural form and colour.

L trying to deal with just a few of  the toys!

Being the youngest, S has the greatest collection as she has inherited many of her sister's toys and then, just when I'd convinced her to have a cull and had carted off a whole bin bag full to the charity shop, along came a new intake of pre-loved Beanie Babies donated by a kindly friend. I groaned as each new toy was lovingly taken out and placed in a more and more crowded pile on her bed.

Wobbly Head Ted ( his head is only hanging
 on by a thread!)

I don't really understand the appeal of Beanie Babies and I hate the feel of their horrible beanie tummies! A quick search on the internet though reveals a whole frenzied market of collectors and some are surprisingly valuable.  We could have any number of valuable Beanie assets but I don't think we'll ever rightly know as most of the necessary tags seem to have been mysteriously removed or defaced by chewing!

The girls also went through a worrying Build-a-Bear phase. If you are not familiar with this popular brand then all I can say is think Willy Wonka but with stuffing instead of chocolate.  The full experience of the Build-a-Bear workshop is disturbing, and draining...on your finances. Once sucked in to the brightly lit room by the grinning yellow-shirted assistants you are led over to the piles of 'skins'.  These are the empty shells of future furry companions. Once chosen, the new owner is encouraged to add a red satin heart to put inside teddy's chest before the final stitching takes place; for a further charge you can even add a beating heart - oh, the whole Edgar Allen Poe horror of it all!  The giant stuffing machine, operated by a clown-sized foot pedal, brings the plush piles to life and the birth is registered online and a certificate produced. On my first visit I had already begun to hyper-ventilate at this point when I realised that escape was still not in sight as the girls did not want to have the first naturist Build-a-Bear and ran around the shop grabbing insane clothing which I seem to remember included sunglasses, pyjamas and red sparkly shoes among other things.

A Build-a-Bear Wedding 

Why is it that when it comes to toys, all too often our children are tempted by the very antithesis of what we would like to buy for them?  I loathe commercial toy productions, primary and neon colours and the whole film/tv tie-ins that dominate the toy market.  S was lucky enough to go to a Steiner-inspired playgroup and  I was enchanted by the simple wooden toys and Waldolf dolls.  We still have many of these beautiful keepsake toys in our home and I'm hoping that the traditional will prevail.

 Personally, I love knitted toys and I have to confess that Noel and Bunny are in fact mine.  Bunny has been with me for over 40 years and I couldn't part with him (or considering the pink trousers is it a her?) And Noel, well my mother bought him for me the Christmas before last, just going to prove  that we do not tire of buying soft toys for our loved ones no matter how old they are. 

Bunny & Noel 

Do you still have a treasured soft toy?  Who are the softies in your house? 

This music...

Smile, it's Friday - yay! What a busy week it's been.  I don't think I've stopped properly all week until now hence my week's absence or 'blog silence' if you will!   For me, listening to music is a great way to just stop and be still for a moment and so this week I've chosen another musical moment in place of an image from the week.

This track by Temper Trap is an all time favourite of mine though it was nearly ruined for me when Centerparcs decided to use it in their sickly 'Memories Start Here' advert.

I have come across many many covers of this song 'Sweet Disposition' but, in its rawest form, as an acoustic version, I feel like I can appreciate the song again.  I like the lack of commercialism or video here though the lead singer does look like he's in pain (perhaps he had a difficult week too). The band are sitting casually  (in hoodies and interesting hats) on an uninspiring stairwell and this was recorded by the rather retro sounding Bedroom Disco TV.  Sit back, smile, it's Friday and I think it must be wine 'o'clock by now - chill!

A little light reading

A rather special thing happened this week. Well, it was wonderful to me but may well seem a little trivial to others. S started reading my library book and what's more she is thoroughly enjoying it, taking every opportunity she can to get back to the story including smuggling a torch under the bedclothes. This is a girl who despite being a good reader, preferred the limited scope of Captain Underpants and Humphrey Hamster.  Whilst I'm always pleased to see children reading, and I've nothing against these characters (well not Humphrey anyway) - or the over popular Jacqueline Wilson of which we have a whole dedicated shelf - I am delighted to see that she's crossed over to where the literary grass  is most definitely greener.  Now I can talk to her about it,  she discusses characters with me, makes predictions about what might happen and we have our own little mother daughter book club going on.

What a pleasure reading is.  After a stressful day I like nothing better than retreating with a good book to a cosy spot in front of the fire, though often I take said book up to the bath, another favourite reading location. Having on more than one occasion accidentally dropped it in, it's one of the main reasons I don't use a kindle!   I am also fond of reading in bed, while dunking chocolate biscuits in my coffee. When deeply engrossed, I sometimes turn the page before noticing the melted chocolate droppings then squished between the pages.  I'll say now that I am truly sorry, Dunbar Library, for the often interesting  state that I return books in. 

Look! Look!

I distinctly remember the process of learning to read.  It was something I desperately wanted to do long before starting school.  My mother read the same bedtime book over and over at my request and, having memorised it word for word, I set about using the book as my code breaker for others.  By the time I started school I was able to read books meant for older children and so I found the 1970s selection of picture books and pre-readers incredibly disappointing.  In particular the Janet and John series and the slightly later, and just as dreary, Peter and Jane were mind-numbingly dull (though now the illustrations have vintage appeal).  For those too young to be familiar with, or too old to remember, this depressing series then I'll explain.  These books supported the 'look and say' method of learning to read and consisted of endlessly repetitive sentences, 'Here is Jane', 'Look Jane is here', 'Here comes Jane', 'Look, Look, Peter. Can you see Jane?'   AAAaaarrgghhh! Wait, Peter has killed Jane for being sssoooo boring!

Ok that didn't happen but you get the idea. It doesn't surprise me at all to learn that the proponent of this torturous scheme, William Murray,  used to be the head of a school for the 'educationally subnormal'  (that really was the name of the school by the way not me being politically incorrect).

I don't think the man in the sweet shop should be trusted!

Fortunately, I was able to read a whole host of much more thrilling books at home; by thrilling I mean that they actually had a plot. (Take note, Mr Murray: 'Here is a plot', 'They have a plot', 'There was a plot!')  One of my absolute favourites was the classic series Little Grey Rabbit by Alison Uttley.  She is often confused with Beatrix Potter or Enid Blyton (who incidentally she knew and despised) but personally I think she has a far more magical way with words.  I recently bought a copy in a second hand bookstore and took a trip down  nostalgia lane, re-reading many of the stories I remember so fondly.

Apart from Rabbit herself there are the delights of Brock the Badger, Speckledy Hen and, how could I forget, little hedgehog Fuzzypeg. You would be forgiven for thinking that the author of these charming tales was as sweet and charitable as the characters she created but by all accounts she was a frightfully difficult woman, controlling and prone to jealous rages.  Nevermind, I will ignore the facts behind the creator and immerse myself again in Grey Rabbit's fluffy world; it's often much nicer than the real one.

Little Grey Rabbit helps Fuzzypeg who has managed to turn himself into a snowball

White magic

Nothing quite instills a sense of wonder like pure white snow. When you don't have to be anywhere, and you have all you need at home, then there's nothing more magical than the transformation the white stuff brings. Recently I've begun to feel a bit marooned in the sea of mud all around the Little House and everything has that January colour scheme of brown, more brown and...brown.  But this weekend all is bright and I have been transported into a Narnia-inspired winter wonderland. 

The mud rutted track has been replaced with shimmering walkway

I am so in love with the stuff that I've developed a bit of an obsession. It's driving L beserk. I text him from work exactly 10 minutes after I have arrived at my desk and then at 10 minute intervals: 'Is it snowing there?' I ask again, hopefully. I stalk the weather forecast constantly, consulting the BBC, the Met Office (even though I know they actually provide the updates for the Beeb anyway),  Netweather, Weather Outlook - they are all on my browser favourites. I am far more distracted by the possibility of a snow day than any of my pupils, sometimes even sticking my head (and tongue) out of the window to establish whether it is in fact snow falling or that most disappointing of five letter words in the English language - sleet.  

Even the electricity cables look good

I find myself getting caught up in the media hype that inevitably comes with even the tiniest amount of snow: 'Snowmageddon', 'Going Snowhere', 'Snowpocalypse Now', reports from 'The Red Zone'  - the puns and hyperbole are rife, but when you actually examine the facts we're generally only talking about centimetres of snow. Centimetres, I ask you - I've got a deeper layer of dust on my TV stand!

The trouble is that although snow is not uncommon in the UK, it's not frequent enough to foster any kind of resilience. It's as though the strain of maintaining that stiff-upper-lip stereotype becomes too much at the appearance of the first flake and most of the country regresses into a sort of national learned helplessness. We give in to hysteria and indulge in locust-like behaviour in the supermarkets, stripping the shelves of bread and milk in case we are stuck in the house for more than 48 hours and forced to eat each other. The Scots are a little more hardy but even the most stolid and resistant of school heads gives in and closes up the learning shop for fear of weather-related injury and resulting snowball law suit.


The petrol stations have long queues which I've never understood as you can't actually get anywhere and, even when the ploughs and gritters have cleared a way, stories about people being stuck in their cars for hours and hours make you too nervous to attempt it. My cousin's recent facebook status made me laugh. Clearly tired of RAC-inspired checklists on being properly prepared before embarking on even the shortest of car journeys, she concocted her own very extensive list. Along with requisite shovel and blanket she thought to add an ice pick, Morse code machine, fluorescent jacket and a crib sheet on how to make an igloo. I felt compelled to suggest a St Bernard as well. 

She may not be a St Bernard but Luna can still run in the snow!

L thinks he can go anywhere because he has a 4x4 and he's definitely basking in his elevated status. The rest of us are forced  to drag ancient ski-wear from the back of wardrobes and waddle across the snowy landscape as dayglow Michelin men. Trying to keep warm indoors without using up the extortionate heating oil tends to blur the line between what constitutes acceptable daywear and pyjamas. I was tempted by one of the weekend offers in the newspaper - a double slanket (a blanket with sleeves for the uninitiated). It was offered in a wine colour with a hood much like a Galactic robe but, although the idea of pretending to be conjoined Jedi knights was weirdly appealing, I'm not quite sure that I want to be that close to anyone while ensconsed in 100% polyester microfibre, even The Wonderful Man. He's usually quite warm enough without extra static electricity or fire hazard materials.

In between...

I love these Emma Bridgewater mugs

Now we've recovered from nasty coughs and viruses we are enjoying these leisurely in-between days before New Year celebrations.  Little S must have felt much better as she was up brightly this morning and in baking mode. Red velvet cupcakes looked very festive but her first attempt at mixing purple (yes, purple!) buttercream icing was not successful and it came out grey! A little more experimentation and she managed to transform it into blue.  These colourful offerings were certainly very cheering and delicious, especially with a nice mug of Christmas coffee.

Poor Luna hasn't had as many walks as she would normally over the festive period and so we wrapped up warmly and took her down to the beach. The tide was almost completely in but we still had a long strip of sand for her to really run along and play, chasing the waves in and out and teasing us with long strands of seaweed in her mouth.

Later S and I got absorbed in some crafts; she in paper snowflakes and me with kite paper window stars.

The Wonderful Man is busy planning the menu for Hogmany and New Year's Day but he still managed to produce a super Saturday supper.  I bought some proper Garofalo pasta from the deli and he made my favourite tomato sauce with wild rocket and vodka - bellissimo!

I've also had time to look again at the beautiful presents we've received.  One of my favourites is this Christmas Matryoshka nesting doll that I originally bought for L's mum from the Russian shop in Edinburgh.  She's enjoyed it for the last 10 years but her house is practically groaning under the weight of many, many decorations and so she thought it would be nice to pass it on to H.  Aren't they wonderful!

Appropriately in the background  is a photo of L's mum holding H as a baby

My other most treasured gift is from my mum.  I can't believe she made such a beautiful cross stitch  for me and it was a complete surprise.  She managed to get L to hide it until Christmas morning and I had no idea that she had been working for years to create such a beauty.  I got L to hang it by the stairs so I can admire it every time I go up or down. Thank you Mum!

The words at the bottom read, 'Over the river and through the woods to Grandma's house we  go'