Chocolate cake and choices

Let us assume that you were sat in restaurant and got the dessert menu.  There are loads and loads of lovely desserts any one of which you might quite like to have.  However when your waiter comes to the table he says the only thing on offer right now is choccy cake.  This isn't a bad thing so you go for the choccy cake (accept a job offer) only to be told that potentially there could have been an option to go with a very small portion of chocolate mousse.  Disappointment aside that you didn't have the option to make the choice the chocolate cake is still looking pretty good.  Only then the possibility of death by chocolate is suddenly dangled in front of you.  It's not quite ready yet but it might be an option ...


The above is a vague reference to some other events in my life, not writing related ... again.  I don't regret the decision I made but nor was I aware of any of the other options and am stuck wondering what if.

Confidence

I wrote about the dreaded writers block a couple of weeks ago.  Everyone gets the block in one way or another at some point, it may only last a few minutes or it might last years.  So there are days when writing  two words together that make sense cannot be done and your head is so empty of inspiration it's like a vacuum.  Those days of eerie emptiness are soul destroying, they make you question what you ever thought about trying to write.

The flip side of that coin is when everything seems inspired.  The days when stories and characters and just cool stuff is coming out of your ears.  Naturally a few days or weeks later you'll discover that 80% of what you were so enthused by is either a mirage or just cringeworthy.  

I'm not feeling this love of all ideas right now but I am missing it.  The crazy confidence that everything in my head is pure gold if only I can unearth it.  Of course that's never really the case and there's a lot of fools gold in there but I just miss the confidence.

0 to 80 ... in 9 months

This is not the acceleration speed of my car but probably a sign that I have lost it ... I'm going to cycle 81 miles in a race.  You see last year I decided I would do some running races.  Sadly I injured my knee whilst skiing and was told by the physio that the knee was not to be run on for 12 weeks.  This meant that the running races were out.  So to make up for it I have decided that I should enter the Caledonian Etape in May 2013.

This is a 81mile race in Scotland and I've probably cycled a max distance of about 40 miles in the past.  So I have 9 months to get ready.  So this weekend it's two laps of the park - which I am told is about 20miles.  This is terrifying.  

Books On Writing Part 1

I've had "Writing the Breakout Novel" by Donald Maass for a few years now and clearly remember reading it for the first time and feeling a bit boggled by it all. It almost made it to the charity pile no less than three times.  Only there was a little voice that kept telling me it might come in useful ... I'm so pleased I listened for once.

I reread it a couple of months ago and either I read a different book or perhaps it's just that I'm now ready for it.  This book is brilliant.  I love it.  There are examples of how to do it by the rules and examples of when the rules are broken, but it still works.  

Over the years I've amassed a lot of books on writing (including Stephen King's classic memoir 'On Writing'). The geek  in me loves them.  Loves reading about the mechanics of the craft, even if I don't always get it all.  I'd be hard pressed to recommend any one of them over another, because all of them have helped me in some way.  Even Strunk and White ... which I was forced to read by an English teacher.


On a separate note I'm a bit annoyed with myself.  I wrote this post late on Tuesday and scheduled it to appear on Wednesday when I knew I wouldn't have to time to post.  However, Blogger does not post it unless you press Publish ... which I forgot to do.  I just saved it. 

Musings on the blog and creativity (mostly creativity)

Part of the deal for the blog is that unless I can sustain three posts a week as a minimum there's really not much point in having a blog.  Also being interesting three times a week sounded sort of doable.  Now, of course, it feels like a lot of pressure.  I missed last Friday because ... well there's really no excuse as three posts a week really doesn't sound all that excessive.

This made me think about creativity in general.  Now none of these thoughts are particularly revolutionary but I'm sure that just about everyone involved in a creative endeavour at some point has thought about the need to be creative on demand.  There's a mystique that surrounds creativity.  Its origins are, by nature, somewhat  vague.  I couldn't tell you where inspiration comes from nor could I tell you why it happens. The muse tends to hit me with an idea at the most inopportune moments.  It's frustrating and glorious.  

However I do not think that creativity is entirely at the mercy of a Greek mythological creature (though that would be a good excuse when I'm really suffering from a lack of ideas).  Creativity or the internal ideas machine is most commonly compared to a muscle.  If you use it it will grow and if you neglect it it will wither away.  I like to compare it to a plant, creativity needs a lot of conditions to be right for it to grow well.  Certainly you can do things to help it along but ultimately if the conditions are hostile to creativity it won't flourish.  I don't think it's a delicate hothouse flower, it's actually a very hardy plant it will survive almost anywhere but you do need to prune and feed and harvest for there to be any point to it.

Monday - snippets

Early this year I took a writing course and started on a story about a guardian angel trying to save a soul.  I took inspiration (loosely) from Faust.  So the man in question has already sold his soul to the devil, making things a bit difficult for the angel who's not feeling particularly charitable.

I've played around with an opening scene and can't quite decide if it should be 1. When my lost soul loses his soul.  2.  When the Angel grudgingly accepts the mission.  or 3.  When the Angel and lost soul finally meet.

This is option 1:


Dominic tried to keep his knees from shaking, the last thing he wanted to do was to become unsteady and fall from the chair prematurely. They had put a blindfold on him so he couldn’t see where exactly he was, but it was likely they were in one of the abandoned warehouses that Phil kept exactly for these sorts of occasions.

No one every looks out for you. Dominic thought bitterly. You have to be your own look out.

Phil, Dom’s now ex boss, obviously wasn’t here he just wanted Dominic out of the way. Some of the burlier henchmen had been dispatched and they’d been none too gentle in getting the job done so far.

It wasn’t fair, he’d just been in the wrong place at the right time.

Dominic took another shuddering breath and tried twist his head out of the noose again. Bribing his way out of this hadn’t worked, talking his way out hadn’t worked and begging had only made them laugh. Cold sweat trickled down Dom’s back.

He’d do anything to get out of this. He’d give anything to just get a chance to get away. One chance, just one chance.

Dom stiffened as he felt someone untie the blindfold. He blinked in the dim light - he was alone in a large and grimy space. A few faint rays of early morning sunshine filtered through tall windows dull with years of neglect and pollution. Dom tried to twist round but the chair gave an immediate lurch, his heart hammered like a hamster’s.

A soft laugh behind his left ear made him twitch involuntarily and the chair wobbled again beneath him. A soft whisper of almost words breathe against the back of his neck.

“You think this is funny?!” Dominic put as much venom into the words as he could muster, but his voice still sounded unsteady with fear.

“From where I’m standing it’s not too bad.” The voice was male, smooth and cultured, with the slightest hint of an accent. Someone jiggled the chair a little.

The trouble with titles

I hate trying to come up with a title.  It's so difficult and so many of them are so naff and just painful and it turns me into an enormous whinge ...

My current larger work in progress (wip) was called Oak, Ash and Thorn - a direct quote from Edmund Spencer's 'The Fairy Queen' - which I decided was a bit too geeky and obscure.  I've been trying to find a better title for the last eternity and a half and have finally renamed it.  It is now (drum roll please):

The Splintered Thorn -  a title that amazingly not only has something to do with the story but also sounds sort of interesting.  I think I'm even more relieved than when I finally figured out what's motivating the villain.

This one has been especially frustrating as it's taken a bit over a year to actually find a title that I like.  Perhaps this will get easier as I go along.

Writer's block

With longer pieces of work I find that around the 40,000 word mark there's a wall.  Suddenly the story seems banal, the characters flat and I hate the whole process of coming up with ideas.  This is where writer's block starts, this fear that writing is impossible.  


However I can't sit there and just let the feelings of woe overwhelm me.  So I have distraction techniques.  If I can't write one story I'll write another, this is why short stories are so great.  A quick 2000 word story can be knocked out in a matter of hours, it might take a bit longer to finish it off properly but the bones will be there.  The other alternative is to take a character you've already created and write a little scene or story just for them. 


In this case I've taken a character from my current WIP (which I am re-editing an even more soul destroying place than 40,000 words) and written a scene that happens after the end of the book.  I needed to reconnect a bit with the character make them real and exciting again, because right now they all feel like problems that need solutions.


Anyhow here's what I'm working on to get the creative juices flowing again:

Lunar Phase

The minute the charm above the door had started screaming, not out loud obviously but silently in a magical sort of way, Trish had ducked into the back office leaving behind a rustle of glass beads.  Now she peered out from behind the beaded curtain at the large were person browsing the romance section.  He probably knew she was there, his nose would have told him that already.  Hiding in the back just gave her an illusion of safety and a chance to steady her nerves.

The charm was there to alert her to the big bads of the supernatural world, or at least the big bads that were a threat to her, which was all of them.  Werebeastman out there was definitely a big bad, anything that could change into a crazed beast once a month or more was bad news.

Trish took another deep calming breath before she walked out from the back office. The glass beads tinkled and rattled behind her and she took stock of the man pretending to be engrossed in the cover blurb of a book with a gaudy pink cover, he’d obviously moved on to chick lit.  He was tall, 6 foot plus, dark hair and hungry looking, but then that was a feature of any were beast.  They all looked like you might be their next meal.  In fact as he had looked up at her with fathomless dark eyes she had an uncomfortable sensation that she was being evaluated.

Go on girl, brazen it out.  A bit of silent encouragement never hurt.  “You don’t look like much of a romance reader.”  Trish cringed at the somewhat breathless tone she’d developed.

“No?” Dark brows pulled together in a frown, giving him an increasingly dangerous look.  He looked down at the book in his hands and replaced it on the shelf.

Oh boy he had to be the strong monosyllabic type.  “Anything I can help you with?” Trish felt momentarily proud of the flatness she managed to inject into her voice.  It sounded unafraid and mature.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”  The man’s voice was deep and raspy.  It did not sound reassuring, it sounded like he’d prefer to be growling.

Trish heaved an internal sigh, she knew what was coming and this could be short or it could be long.  She wasn’t in the mood or prepared for him hanging about in the shop all day.  “My sister has a fairy kingdom and is involved with a fairy prince, if that’s what you’re talking about.”  Apparently everyone and their dog had heard about that.

“Yet you’re still here.”  He took a step closer to the counter, and paused giving her another appraising look. 

“Yes.  Where else would I be?”  Trish involuntarily tensed as the man took a step towards her.

Craig stared at the little witch standing behind the counter and gripping it like her life depended on it.  She was small and sleek like a cat.  Dark hair neatly bobbed brushed against her chin and her mouth was a strawberry red pout.  Pretty blue eyes held wariness and now confusion.

“How’d you get out of fairy?”  he asked.  It puzzled him, she didn’t look particularly strong and she didn’t carry herself like she packed much magical punch.  However, at that question a small smile crooked the corners of her mouth, and she seemed to relax a little.

“I walked.  One foot in front of the other and my sister has some influence there.”  Trish felt a whoosh of relief, so it could just be curiosity, there’d been a lot of nosey parkers snooping around trying to figure out if somehow she’d stumbled across some powerful mojo.  “The question is, what are you doing in my shop?  Satisfied your curiosity yet?”  Trish raked her eyes over him, beat up leather jacket, scuffed boots and jeans – nothing controversial there.

Craig saw the look she gave him and stepped closer again, this time she didn’t tense up.  He risked another step.  “I’m not here because I’m curious.”

Trish raised one eyebrow, she was done asking questions. 

“I’ve got a problem.”  He took another step towards the counter.  Two more steps and he’d be right in front of her.

“Oookaay.  And you are here because you want a tarot reading?” Trish gestured towards the back of the shop.

He frowned again.  “No, I need your help.”

“I’m pretty good with the cards you know.  There’s all sorts of things, interesting things, you might find out.”  Trish had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that whatever his problem was she didn’t want to know anything about it.

“That’s not the sort of help I need.”  He took two more steps and stopped at the counter. 

“Ohkaay.  I can’t help you then.  We don’t do potions or spells for sale here.”  Trish hoped that by dropping a ‘we’ in there he’d assume there was someone out of sight and smell.

Trish’s breath hitched when the man growled and his eyes flashed from dark brown to a lupine gold.  This was very bad.

Rejection - it's even less fun than I thought

I know that stuff (writing) has to be sent out to actually get published, but I'm not enjoying the rejections. It's not that I wasn't prepared, I was totally expecting rejections but they still suck.

The last few months  I've sent my little fledgling book out to oodles of agents but none have been interested.  Most of the time the rejections are very polite so it's not like I've been horribly insulted, of course as they are politely bland there's no encouragement either.  All in all it's just frustrating, obviously that story wasn't it for that agent but there's no clue as to why.  And no matter how polite the rejection it is still just that ... a rejection and each one knocks your confidence.  


So I need to develop a thicker skin and I'm certainly much better at it at rejection 40+ than I was at rejection number 3 (this was when rejections still sent me into a tailspin of despondency), but I'm still not exactly shrugging each one off.  I'll report back when I'm at rejection 140 ... 

I know they're not real people but ...

A while back I mentioned to my boyfriend that I was deeply disappointed in one of my characters.  He was a bit quirky, heart in the right place, dedicated, a little rough around the edges and set up to be the good guy.  The guy who is doing everything for the right reasons, the guy you can trust.  Except for one thing, he's a terrible terrible boyfriend.  His relationship history is littered with broken hearts.  


Inevitably this led to the discussion of imaginary or real ... can I really tell the difference.  Well of course I can.  Radleigh (my disappointing good guy) isn't real, I know that but my disappointment was.  Even if I made him up and should therefore really know everything about him.


For some reason it doesn't always work that way.  When creating a story I have a pretty good idea of exactly what the main characters are like, because I've spent a lot of time working on them and getting to understand how they can best tell the story.  In a sense I've come to know them over a period of months.  A lot of my secondary characters are a bit more roughly sketched and that's fine, I don't need to know as much about them because they are there to support the main cast not outshine them.


Radleigh was a secondary character with a fairly straightforward small part.  He wasn't supposed to be a big character, he was supposed to show up the villains flaws and he was supposed to create a counterpoint to my protagonist (who's a bit tortured). 


However, I took a writing class and we were asked to take a look at a character, write up a character sheet and write a letter from their point of view.  So to start with a fresh character I thought it wouldn't harm to use Radleigh.  This is where I started to look at the likely motivations for why Radleigh wants to be the good guy so badly, why is he so dedicated and why does he ride a scooter*?  What sorts of flaws does he have, what's his Achilles heel and what makes him sad?  In short the sort of questions that I know for my main characters, because I will need to use all of this information.  

Knowing all these things for a secondary character just makes me want to write him a story and inevitably he's muscled his way into the plot, which leaves a bit of a problem.  He doesn't really fit in, I already know that many of the scenes are going to go and that makes me sort of sad, because despite his problems I like Radleigh and I'm not sure I'm going to be ready to let him go so quickly.

The solution is not to rewrite the original story but to write a sequel with Radleigh ... yes, because I need more writing projects.

*He rides a scooter because he lives in London and there's the congestion charge to think of and he's a copper so he's got a car for work and well I liked the idea of an ex rugby playing bloke on a little blue scooter.

Whisky - it's what the lady wants

Inspiration is a funny thing, you never know when it might strike.  There are ways that you can kick start inspiration but other times it comes out of nowhere.  Last week, whilst I was working diligently on the novel, I suddenly wanted a glass of whisky.  This surprised me as 1) I'm not much of a drinker and 2) it was the middle of the day.  I'll admit to being partial to a nice smoky west coast whisky but not in the middle of the day all on my lonesome.  Still the nagging voice about whisky did not go away, after a couple of days of wanting whisky and not drinking any I started prodding at this overwhelming need.  


I have a habit of getting a bit overly involved with characters that I make up.  However, despite being nominally in charge of my own imagination I was unprepared for Simone, who being in some emotional turmoil was feeling more than a little unreasonable.  

Writing out a first scene with Simone to set up what is going on has at least calmed her down a little.  She no longer demands drinks in the middle of the day.

Here's a quick sample of my first draft for an opening scene:


Simone? Open the door.” Max hammered the front door. He’d been here for 10 minutes and he knew she was in there. He could hear her, singing. It was a miracle all the dogs in the neighbourhood weren’t howling along. There was a brief lull in the music. He pounded the door again. Eventually he heard someone scrabbling at the locks.

Simone opened the door, her hair was sticking up on one side as if she’d woken up and forgotten to comb it. She had serious panda eyes on the go as well. Not that he blamed her for that. The last few days hadn’t been easy.

“Hey Max. Maxxy boy. How. Are. You.” Simone poked Max on the shoulder and grinned up at him.

“Sober.”

“Bummer. I’m not.” Simone waved him into the house and walked with elaborate care towards the kitchen.

“I heard about Finn.” Max closed the door and nudged the pile of post to one side with his foot. He pulled off one shoe and noted there was one abandoned black stiletto on the wooden hallway floor.

“This is a shoe free household!” she bellowed from the kitchen. “Because God forbid you mark on the floor and walk.” Simone came back into the hallway and stared at Max. She was holding two glasses both half full with an amber liquid. “I’ve been wearing stilettos. But I took them off.” The whisky sloshed around in the glasses as she gestured vaguely in the direction of the shoe. “I’d let you wear them.”

“Thanks Si, I’m good.” Max looked at the two glasses in her hands. “How much have you drunk.”

“I am having a whiskey tasting.” She held out one glass.

“Ehm. Is this Eric’s?”

“Possessivenesslyion is nine tenths of the law.” Simone inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled out her mouth.

“Are you going to throw up?”

“Nope. Take the damn whiskey.” Simone weaved a bit where she was standing.

The glass was waved around in front of his face. Eric was going to be pissed about this. Max grabbed the glass and took a swig. “Gahrg. Shit. That’s strong.” It burned down the back of his throat and left him with a mouthful of ash.

“Cask strength.”

“Warn me next time.” Max shook his head to try to clear some of the fumes. He took a deep breath. “None of this has been your fault.”

Simone walked back towards the kitchen, casting a glare back over her shoulder. “Fuck off.”

Undeterred Max followed her. On the counter was Eric’s entire single malt collection, in front of each bottle there was a glass. 

Fish pie ... an easy success

It's not difficult to confuse me. I'm easily distracted. Which is why I cook in silence, I am concentrating, a lot. I'm also probably hungry so feeling quite bad tempered.

Last night I whipped up an easy fish pie. There had been bechamel sauce on offer at Sainsbury's (21p - bargain!) that needed to be eaten. So I poured the sauce into a dish (added a little milk, lemon juice, extra salt and pepper), diced up the fish (smoked cod loin and a salmon fillet) and whacked it in a preheated (200 degrees) oven whilst I diced up potatoes for the mash topping. Whilst the potatoes bubbled merrily I grated some carrot and apple and poured over the lemon juice and sugar mix for my salad, and cut up some carrot sticks for the b-friend's boiled carrots. While the carrots bubbled I mashed potatoes (plenty of butter, a splash of milk, salt & pepper) which I then spooned over the top of the fish & sauce. The fish pie went straight back into the oven on a higher heat and I prepped a handful of asparagus and chucked them into a saucepan for a few minutes (when I drained them I put them back onto the heat with some butter and lemon).

This meal is pretty much how I do all my cooking - it's a bit haphazard and rather dependent on what was available on offer at the supermarket. I'm also not a big user of measurements and prefer to use terms like "when it's thin or thick enough", "when it feels right" or of course "use enough for x people". Those instructions are pretty useless unless you've made the dish before.

Tuesday was pancake day and year I was keen to try my hand not only at sweet pancakes but also at galettes ... the savoury buckwheat version. I remember eating these in France with much gusto with a cheese filling if memory serves. Naturally as with so many good intentions this did not transpire and we just gorged on pancakes with lovely unhealthy fillings (lemon and sugar for him bananas and nutella for me).

30min meal

I purchased Jamie Oliver's 30min meals book for my b-friend. I hoped it would spur him on into the kitchen and then I would get to enjoy lovely food. However, I neglected to remember one thing ... I am the Kitchen Despot. The kitchen is my kingdom and I do not tolerate any uppity subjects trying to get above their station by doing things like cook. It should be noted that I feel like this even when it's not my kitchen.

After waiting for 3 weeks I cracked under the pressure of having an unused cook book around the place and decided to whip up the Jerk Chicken. At the outset I would like to make some things clear. I like Jamie Oliver's cook books - I have 3 or 4 of them myself - sometimes I even cook from them. However, I do not really use cookbooks any more, I read them for inspiration and then heavily modify the recipes to suit myself. This time however I was making it mostly exactly as it was written (I omitted a few ingredients and added a bit more/less where it seemed appropriate). It did not take me 30minutes. It took me 49 (yes the bfriend timed me!). I think 30minutes is a very optimistic timing as it does not take into account any reading of the recipe as you go along or that most of us are not as competent / confident in the kitchen as a professional chef.

I'm a pretty decent cook and I think I would struggle to do this in 30minutes. There are a lot of different parts to it, the chicken, the sauce, the sweet corn, the rice dish and the salad. The sauce was very fiddly to make and charring the sweet corn fumigated the kitchen. It also produced an ungodly amount of mess. Having said that it was a delicious meal - the rice and beans dish was especially good and I will be making that again with other dishes.

I'll be trying some of the other recipes in the book, for sure, but tonight I will be whipping up a fish pie (of my own creation) and it won't take me any more time.

Fear of the carrot

As vegetables go the carrot is pretty exciting. Bear with me here I'm not completely nuts quite yet. The carrot tastes good, looks appealing and has comedy potential. It is especially scrumptious grated with apple and mixed up with a dash of lemon juice and sugar (mmmm).

However my carrot related concern is about carrot cake. I'm a big fan of carrot cake, or rather I am a big fan of good carrot cake. Mostly however I experience disappointing carrot cake. I think this is because people skimp on the carrot and add a bunch of unnecessary ingredients. I do not believe that carrot cake is improved with the addition of raisins or sultanas. Nor do you need to add so much ginger that you cannot taste anything else.

The real joy of carrot cake is that it is moist without being too heavy, the wetness of the carrots mean you do not need as much fat to create the same effect. As carrots are a 'sweet' vegetable you do not need to add large quantities of sugar. Also it has the secret health benefit of including a veg in a cake (perfect excuse for a big helping - one of your 7 a day don't you know).

I make my carrot cake with cardamom and cinnamon - rather than ginger. The cardamom has a lovely warmth and the cinnamon a bit of a punch ... but the two tastes combined are far more mellow than the sharpness that ginger gives.

Owl sweater

I have knitted the owl sweater twice. Neither time for myself I might add.

Both times I have made heavy revisions to the pattern as the wool specified was not to hand and of course the people I knit it for had their own ideas about what they wanted it to look like. I have had to deal with requests for extra long arms and extra tiny waists ... at times it felt like I was rewriting the whole pattern, changing increases and decreases to suit the wool and torso's.

Only with all these changes there is one thing I do not know ... is it me or is it the wool or is it the pattern. Both sweaters have come out with a rather alarming bulge at the top. Giving one wearer a somewhat hunchbacked look, I'm not sure what it looks like after washing and am hoping it has improved. So either it is my cackhanded attempts at making revisions to the pattern or I'm misreading something. I won't sing my praises on pattern reading, as most projects involve some unravelling. This leaves me with my revisions, I'm concerned that I have made the same mistake twice with two different types of wool and sizes. So am wondering if I should knit the jumper again, for the 3rd time, but this time sticking to the pattern as closely as possible just to test the theory. On the other hand I'm sort of sick of the owl jumper.

And sewing on buttons for eyes takes forever.

It is autumn and the time of craft is upon us ...

I have entered a positive frenzy of crafting. I have managed to knit myself a poncho jumper, made a start on a new hat and am putting the final finishing touches on a jumper for a friend.

More importantly there is Julehygge prep! This year I want to make a different sort of decoration and have chosen to make a candy cane inspired Venetian mask. Last weekend I put down a couple of layers of acrylic paint - white on the front and silver on the inside. This weekend I must find a dowling rod or similar for the candy cane stick and some red ribbon. It is shocking but I have run out of red ribbon ... I just don't know what to say it's horrific.

However as I have had a lot of fun with the mask already I am rather tempted to buy another one and create a halloween mask. In silver and black. This is so that I will keep my mitts of the christmas mask and also so that I will have something to practice on ... see lots of very good and rational reasons to go and get some black acrylic paint, maybe some more glitter ...

I should be busy enough . . .

I keep saying things like, "I will not start more projects till I finish the ones I have on the go".  And then I immediately start another sock, jumper, hat etc.

Even worse there is a promise of a sewing machine and I am in the middle of planning more projects.  There's the roman blind for the kitchen.  Some table mats to go with the new table and chairs.  A knitting bag, which can't be knitted as that wouldn't work.

I also have a kitchen that needs to be painted.  But for that I really "need" a stool and I've seen some very pretty material which I could cover said stool with afterwards (I've already got the staple gun).

I comfort myself with the knowledge that I have finished a pair of socks, and only cast on for another pair of socks and a hat since (but not really dented the rest of the projects).

And still with all of these minor things going on I am looking at the living room and wondering if I should paint the walls or go for an exciting accent wall paper on one wall.

Operation Julehygge 2009

Well September and October wooshed by kinda quick - I've barely had time to think much less do anything crafty ...

But all that is about to change this weekend. A weekend devoted to craftness. A whole weekend of Christmas based activity. TWO FULL DAYS OF JULEHYGGE!

Tonight I start packing as this sort of activity takes organisation! It's not just a simple matter of throwing some clothes into a bag and taking yourself to the train station. Oh no no. I have materials to bring, materials to prepare, books to index, plans to make - and of course presents to wrap. Frankly there are whole countries run with less precision than this most glorious of weekends.

Hygge - it's a Scando thing

ahh October - the days are getting shorter, the nights colder and the scarves creep out of closets and drawers like colourful woolly snakes.

Oh autumn you bring colour in your own special way - oranges, browns, reds, yellows that are too quickly replaced by the bleak, grey existence that winter promises. You also bring the promise of evenings spent indoors, talking eating and generally avoiding the cold and wet outdoors. in scandoworld we have even invented a special word which covers all these sorts of activities - HYGGE!

several attempts at trying to find a good translation of Hygge into English is impossible - this is a translation from danish...
hygge ¹ (en): comfort, cosiness;
[skabe hygge] make the house (etc) look comfortable, make you feel at home.
2.
hygge ² (vb): [hygge om en] make somebody comfortable;
(ofte =) give somebody a pleasant time;
[hygge sig] make oneself comfortable, feel at home; have a pleasant time;
[i aften skal vi rigtig hygge os] we will have a nice cosy evening;
[hyg jer!]
(: afskedshilsen) have fun!
3.
hyggefølelse : feeling of cosiness.
4.
hyggekrog : cosy corner.
5.
hyggelig (adj): comfortable, cosy ( fx room), homelike ( fx place); snug (
fx corner); cheerful ( fx atmosphere, room);
(rar) pleasant, nice ( fx chap);
[gøre det hyggeligt for ham] make him comfortable;
(ofte =) give him a pleasant time;
[have det hyggeligt] have a pleasant time;
[en hyggelig snak] a cosy (el. nice) chat.
hyggespreder (en -e): [være en hyggespreder] create a genial atmosphere.


none of these really hit on the essence of the word and all it encompasses. It is more than cosy, or homelike. it is a feeling and a state of mind. to truly understand the sentiment is to truly understand scandos. and one has to experience it to understand it fully. it involves people (you can also hygge on your own), usually food (of any kind - from a good meal to sweets, to cakes) drinks (not just alcoholic), candles, a good movie or some good music - anything that creates an atmosphere where you feel like your emotional self is wrapped in a large down duvet, and the world is a happy and beautiful place - talk about an endorphin kick.

its about treating yourself, it is about spending quality time. and if you are really going to push the boat out - you have an evening of rå-hygge - or raw-hygge - this is when you may eat whipped cream with a spoon, drink champagne because its tuesday and why not, gorge on chocolate cake without guilt or sin. it is immensely important and it is about feeling good and having a good time with those you feel close to.

the best kind of hygge is jule-hygge - christmas hygge! (lets face it - you knew that was coming) now, in scandoworld we dont just celebrate christmas for 3 days - but we start to build up to it properlyfrom the first sunday in advent (if before the 1st of december) or the 1st of december. Advent calendars (and i dont mean tacky disney ones with chocs), advent candles, calendar candles, evenings of 'christmas-lunches' (an oxymoron, but that is what you call them in danish), evenings spent making christmas decorations (or days at school if young enough). We also have christmas-calendars on TV - a 'nailbiting' series always shown for kids (sometimes for adults too) where the question of will christmas be saved is the constant theme. closer to the date mothers and fathers across the country will start to prepare the food - cookies will be baked, old-school rents will make cold meats for christmas day lunch, marcipan chocs will be produced etc etc.

so a few years ago, as charlotte's sister kat and i 'accidentally' spent an entire grey, wet and misreable weekend in november holed up in my appartment, watching every christmas dvd we could garner, eating waffles (the heart shaped ones that are traditional to norway) drinking and making christmas decorations, we came up with the plan to hold a 'Julehygge' every year. a day of feasting and crafting - followed by a night of drinking and jolly times on the town. we promptly invited likeminded craftiacs - and had a wonderfully hyggelig day - and a boozefuelled laughter-filled night. and got some awesome christmas decorations out of it.

i know its early - only october - but i now declare my christmas deco-making period officially open (well the clocks go to winter time in a few days) and let the games begin!

happy hygge all round!

long time no sew

so i have been under the blog-dar for a spell - but have been busy sewing on my dinky wee sewing machine - which is actually going so much better than i ever anticipated! pics and full details will be posted anon.

the above is an ikea hack (yay!) using 24 of those cheapo frames (i think €1.50 for 3), treated only with colourless beeswax and stuck together using batons of bog standard pine. the photos are family ones i have inherited from times ago - some pre 1900s! :) showing a selection of fun stuff like beach trips, bicycle tours and various other activities. prob altogether cost me €12 not bad in my book .

"Craft" fair

On Saturday I went to a sewing and craft fair with my mother. She was looking to expand her stash of quilt materials and I was having a look see for some ribbons for tassles.

Mostly it's scrap booking .... acres and acres of scrap booking. I do not understand scrap booking. Is it a photo album? Is it a diary? What's with all the stickers? Don't get me wrong, I found my old sticker collection (scratch and sniff's do not age well) and it was huge, I have nothing against stickers but why put them in a book on top of other pieces of paper? I just do not understand the appeal.

Of course I have my share of totally useless hobbies (see large cross stich works which take 12 months to complete) so should not throw stones.

However despite the scrapbook theme to the day I did succeed in getting some tapestry to canvas to restore the pipetable backing. Or rather create a new backing and then start to recreate the old one. The pipetable is a family hierloom and probably a bit over 100yrs old (could be as old as 150yrs) and the back is a hand embroidered (by my mum's paternal grandmother) Norwegian style motif. It's completely faded now, and parts of it are rotting (or just disintegrating) - the back however is still in reasonable shape so I hope to be able to recreate the pattern and colours from that. Despite searching the interweb I have not found much in the way of information on traditional Noggi embroidery... of course I haven't.

In the meantime however I will start work on a new backing - I have found two motifs from the arts and crafts movement that will look ok I think. So at Christmas I will be measuring up and starting work.

Is it a bad sign that the lady at the canvas stall called me very brave? Or is she just lacking in vision?

To fail and fail again

When instructions say they are failproof, or simple or any adjective indicating that success is a cert you can be certain of one thing ... and that is that it will not go to plan.

I wanted a slouchy beret shaped hat thingy to go with the socks I made for K. The socks by the way were difficult and I changed some stuff in the instructions but they've worked - so I am not a knitting dunce. So there. However, the hat instructions were simple, knitting it from the top in the round would avoid all that messy tinkering at the end. To make it warm I added a thread of green alpaca to the sock yarn (Sweden is cold in winter) which matches the colour way and gives it a mottled rather than stripey effect. All seemed well as I cast on and fiddled a bit with the first few increases. Then I lost a needle (still haven't found it) which proved challenging as I now had more stitches than the needles could realistically cope with. I improvised with a long needle (not a good idea). The instructions called for a number of decreases before you got to the end ribbing and this seemed like a fab idea, giving the hat some shape. I cast off, tried it on and realised I had made the equivalent of a head bucket. A very shallow bucket. It's so depressing I couldn't take a picture.

This failure puzzled me. I went back over the instructions and decided that I must have got something wrong. Ripping it back without understanding what to do to correct matters struck me as foolish so as it was a fast knit I cast on for a purple hat for myself (also with sock yarn and alpaca). I knitted this one on bigger needles (can you see where things might go wrong here?) and more slouchy. I decreased before the ribbing as before (taking notes) and cast off. The 'hat' would not even go on my head. It is far too small. Now either I expect to make the same mistake especially when I go out of my way to exagerrate the problems (bigger needles people, more increases!!!) or that following the instructions will leave me with something wearable. Making an entirely different type of failure is not helping me figure out the first one.

So I ripped back hat the 2nd and reknitted the end and cast off and now it sodding fits. I am no closer to understanding why the first one did not work. grumble guess i'll just rip it back and reknit humpf

Nam nam Banan

Or Yum yum banana to the anglophiles ...

I had a desire for banana bread this morning. So I duly went forth and examined my cooking books (of which there are many) and came away shaking my head at what can only be described at overenthusiastic folly. Why why why put lemon and orange and cinnamon and nuts into banana bread. Now that's an awful lot of flavours going on. Or a generous helping of extra dried fruit (banana's were obviously not enough). Or the sacrilege of raisins and currents - shudder.

Undetered I stauntered off to Sainsburys where there is frequently a bank holiday whoopsy on stock control and much stuff is on offer. Frequently overripe bananas feature and indeedily I picked up a kilo of fairtrade lovelies for only £1.

I decided to wing it with the recipe and the result is currently being enjoyed with a cup of tea.

You will need:

2 mixing bowls (1 large, 1 small)

1 bread tin

Mix these dry ingredients in the large bowl:

225g self raising flour (I used white but I think it would be nice with wholemeal too)

1tsp cinnamon (if you adore cinnamon increase this to 2tsp but I prefer my banana bread to taste of bananas)

150g sugar

Wet ingredients - add to dry ingredients and stir with enthusiasm

100g butter - melted

2 medium eggs

450g bananas (preferably a bit over ripe) - mashed up roughly with a fork in the other bowl.

Optionals - I roughly chopped ca 100g of dark chocolate and stirred in at the end.

100g Walnuts or pecan nuts roughly chopped

100g Dark chocolate roughly chopped

I then poured the batter into a bread tin and baked at 180degrees centigrade for 1hr 10mins (but I think I could have taken it out about 5 mins earlier)

I like my banana bread still warm from the oven with the chocolate all melty.

Snail's pace progress

I have pictures of the snail in progress and have been unable get them from my camera to the computer. There is no reason for it to not work it just seems to be having a sulk. Tonight I finally got it to cooperate!

Anyhow the snail is progressing - there is a body (unstuffed) and part of a shell (also unstuffed). Still to make are eyes and antenna things.

I am also in a frenzy of baby hats. The hat for baby T is done and ready for sending off. The hat for unknown sex baby 1 is all done (and knitted in the round which is definitly a much better option than knitting it back and forth). To try to account for either possibility I have made the hat stripey in pastel shades of yellow, green, cream and orange. I need to make another one of these hats for another unknown sex baby - but am going to change the stripes a bit. I'm not very pleased with how the changes worked this time especially at the bottom. This morning I cast on for a blueberry hat for a little baby boy - and it needs to be finished quickly as the child is due in a couple of weeks.

Perhaps there are too many projects now.

Charlotte

WOOO WOOOOOOOOOO

all i will say is that i had a VERY exciting email in my inbox just now the 2010 IKEA catalogue is out online!

life is good!

vanish for my varnish?!?

i will start with a GRRRRRRR, and add a little (*^&$BCSUY(£*&. i started varnished my box of firsts, normally i do quite like the varnishing bit as i guess i am a bit weird and like the uniformity of the a nice even coating.

ooooh yea i had the grand idea of using a mini roller. GRAND. except for the fact that the paint i used is not waterproof (curses i am used to oils) and thus upon my first attempt at the rollering - the colour started running!!! PANIC ENSUED, and i managed to save most of the fine lines, and grudgingly had to pick up a brush. the consolation is that the second and third coats will be applicable with roller so all is not lost.

Except that the bloody brush moved the black paint of the football onto the white parts and i nearly had a varnish-induced nervous breakdown (must not craft when ill). it is moments like these that puts me in mind not to craft, and reminds me why i dont do knitting. had i been knitting (though its saving grace is that at least it does NOT require varnishing) i would undoubtedly have stabbed myself in the leg or possibly strangled myself with the yarn.
As it was i put down the brush (curses later for not washing it thus having to discard it) and walked away and the box survive to see another lay (er of varnish).

Magic yarn

Well I know it's actually magic but it's still pretty cool! It's self patterning and even tho' this is nothing new it's still amazing when you knit and this just happens all on it's own.

Eventually this will be two knee high socks. They're done with a ribbed pattern at the back, and I've got ribbing on the top of the foot too.

This is not OCD

So I made some stitch markers in purple and aqua. And then I made some more in green, olive and gold.

Because I wanted the stitch markers to match the wool I was working with.

You can't really see it on the pic but there are olive and gold tones in this yarn too.

My next project is going to be for a baby and is in a muted pastels (yellow, peach, pistachio and cream) and none of those markers go. Nor will they match the blue cardigan. And don't even get me started on the wrist warmers ....

I knew there was a reason I shouldn't have moved away from using safety pins.

Charlotte

teddy boys

my current bout of summer cold (or is it swine flu!??) obviously has rotted my brain as i now have embarked upon the next project - making a teddy! it started pretty simply but has VERY quickly escalated to a level that really would warrant some sort of sectioning.

instead of making simple teddy - 2 bits o' cloth, stitched together, chuck on some buttons, and knock it up with some stuffing. but nooooooo. no no Ditte is TEEDY MANIAC! so now have made a hundred bits to stitch together and attach to eachother. it is so throughly overwhelming i nearly forgot to make legs! creepy.

i had to sit down and plan in my head - and drew a template, roughly guessed for ratios and have ambitiously decided that there should be bits that are protruding (belly and snout) - made out of the same towelling material i used for the rattle.

needless to say it will either be a rip-roaring success (never to be repeated due to frayed nerves) or a TOTAL failure, which will be put in the large craft box, to serve as a reminder not to attempt anything unless 100% compus mentus.

i have almost finished the head - so far so good, but am now on the worst part which is sewing the two faces together, with the stuffing in the middle. boooring! haven't the foggyest how this will turn out, i guess its a cross your digits kinda time. -d-

sleeping beauty

So, i am trying to keep a very certain vibe going in my bedroom, a room i think should only ever serve two purposes (unless you are lucky enough to have a dressing room) sleeping and getting dressed.for this reason i believe in IKEA - which means storage storage storage! i am lucky to have some ridiculously lovely in-built cubboards - which are almost half the size of the room which means i can keep all my shoes in boxes!




I picked up a whole heap of boxes from lk bennett - nice white boxes which are a bit sturdier than normal boxes and mostly of similar size. i then picked up some thick wrapping paper from paperchase (in the sale no less yay!) i didnt want them all to be identical so have used both a geometric pattern and a flowery motif - a bit kidston-esque. i have only covered one end and left the lid as it is so that i can write the style name (yea i know) or description. i based it on the old favorite of taking polaroids of the shoes, but prefer the unity of this.










In order to keep my danglies untangled i made this little hanging rack for them - using a small frame some pretty paper and some hard paper string (all IKEA total cost about €5). i took out the glass and strung the string across the front - then you just pop your earrings on the string - no more tangled/missing earrings!
















As with most appartments in Paris, all windows are shuttered (thankfully i have wooden ones rather than the rolling metal ones) but it also means there is no space for curtain poles as curtains woudl be superfluous. To resolve the problem of not scaring the neighbours with my nakedness when dressing i knew i had to find a window dressing solution. And where did i go for that? IKEA!!! simple - one of their ready made packs (€19.95) has two curtains - each wider than my windows. So i cut each panel into two, hemmed the sides (by hand - yes i was that bored) - then simply attached hooks, using adhesives, to the tops of each window section, clipped rings onto the curtains and VOILA!! two sets of curtains for the princely sum of €25.00!


I splurged (!!) on a set of silver glass birds, with clips (IKEA christmas decoration 2008 €5.99 for a set of 4) - and use them as tie-backs. At christmas i use pins to attach felt hearts (any craft shop in france will sell these about €1.20 for 10)and large crystal beads (from paperchase £3 for a box of 18) i think one could easily attach silk flowers etc etc. but i like the simplicity as it is.







The latest addition is wall hanging - i am usually unbelievably indecisive about wall stuff as i love images and always have too much to choose from. But then i found a charity shop on my last visit to England, where they sold old vinyl records - and i found two which fit the feel of the mood i was aiming for visually- dire straits and eric clapton (both of whom i love anyway) and then it was as simple as clipping on a ring to each and then just stick a nail in the wall. cheap, easy, and looks great (i think). cost - records £3 and £5 and the clips i cant even remember.

shake, rattle and roll

I have been working on the rattle, as the box of firsts is now nearly done (and thus has now been abandoned) and am at the bit i hate the most - finishing off! yuck

I did all the reverse sewing bit, i even sewed the fluffy stuff to the fabric, which was quite ingenius if i do say so myself. now i have turned it all the right way and have to close the hole - which is BOOOOORING and difficult to get nice looking. the result this far though is rather nice, and though it looks more like a bear than a dog, i think it is quite cool.

As you can see it is only a teensy bit pointy at the bottom - but i should be able to restitch a bit and hopefully get this nicely smoothed out.

Pretty sparkly

Recently I have seen a lot of very pretty stitch markers - frequently for an exhorbitant price! So I thought I'd make some myself.

You can get stitch markers that are made of plastic and ones that are beaded. The plastic ones that I have seen come in bigger multipacks in primary colours. The beaded ones come in various degrees of pretty.

All you need for this project:
1. some metal rings (I have ones which will fit needles up to 6mm)
2. some beads, not too heavy
3. for the tools I have some jewelry pliers but depending on the sort of beads this is not always necessary.

The finished product on a needle

I am making these in pairs - so similar theme but different colours and shape so that I can see which is the start and finish marker easily. In the past I have just used safety pins and moved them up but even when I use different sizes it can get confusing . . .

Charlotte

Sock it to me baby

Yers . . . more sockage.

I am knitting over the knee socks. Apparently not satisfied with the first sock experience I immediately came back for more. Naturally these coming from a Drops pattern they are made for tree trunk legs and the reductions are completely unreasonable. After much swearing (who would have thought knitting would turn the air blue?) and frogging it is however starting to take shape. And it is vaguely leg shaped.

This time I am using an exciting self patterning sock yarn called Drops Fabel. It is sort of magic the way it creates a pattern all by itself!!

The second sock of doom is also in progress - I think I am only about 5 cm away from the heel (akkkakarkk!!! not the heel!)

Hardcore babysitting

This weekend I took care of my friend's (E & P) little baby boy (T).  T is only 9mnths old and looks so Norwegian! 

The things that I discovered were as follows:
1. If it can be chewed it will be chewed (this includes electrical wires and my shoulder)
2. Screaming = communicating
3. Babies do not sleep anywhere near as much as their parents pretend they do
4. The most fun toy is the dustpan handle but the brush is just too scary
5. The washing machine is fine when it is off but when it is on it is tragic
6. Small children are remarkably efficient at removing scraps of wallpaper.
7. Their arms are elastic - they may look short but the reach is phenomonal
8. Let sleeping babies lie
9. When the baby is awake you are awake, when the baby is asleep you are tidying up the mess you made trying to be entertaining
10. I can only play peekaboo for so long and that is not as long as the baby