Poshyarns

2012-01-17T19:31:00.005Z

When winter declares

It really has been the mildest of winters here in Suffolk, barely a frost, no snow, none of those long icy days of the last few years.

So the last week has been rather a surprise. A sharp, cold snap.

The sun so low and bright.

The landscape edged in frozen lace. On my daily run the trees seem frozen in the very moment. As though someone hit pause.

I rather like it. I am certainly glad we haven't had weeks of ice and slush but this, right now, this is perfect. A short declaration of winter.

That glorious feeling of a frozen woodland floor crunching beneath you. The frozen fields are bright and glistening under the low January sun.

Days like these are made for kitchen pottering.

And as it's January, the citrus fruit rules supreme. Orange and almond cake. Dense, damp sponge, the sort of slightly grown up cake that begs to be eaten early in the day with a big bowl of coffee. That oily orange zest feels positively restorative and the almond sweetly whispers of Mediterranean nut groves and summer sunshine.

I used the Orange Blossom Cake recipe from my very well thumbed copy of Nigella Lawson's How To Eat: The Pleasures and Principles of Good Food (Cookery)

2012-01-09T18:53:00.005Z

Vanity demands

I love having soft, shiny blow-dried hair.

For about three days.

Every six weeks or so.

Because no matter what my vanity demands, I simply have not the patience or skill to achieve shiny, bouncy hair at home.

My natural curls are left to their own devices and travel through each day on a wing and a prayer (though no amount of praying will help my hair on high humidity days).

But every six weeks or so, I visit the hairdresser (for reasons of greyness) and the most wonderful junior wrestles my hair into silky submission. I walk out feeling rather like one of my childhood heroes - a Charlie's Angel.

2012-01-06T15:21:00.005Z

Love in ink

Right now I am loving January. I know that in a few weeks time I will feel much less gracious towards this wintry month, especially as the spectre of February, a month still so very far from Spring, begins to loom.

However, right now, I am full of the joy of January. It starts with the clearing of the decks, taking down the cards and clearing away the decorations. Dusting the surfaces and vacuuming up the pine needles. It's such a very satisfying form of housework. The results so immediate.

Then there is the new year's diary. Clean, crisp pages ready to be filled, the satisfaction of marking fresh pages with ink.

This year the pleasure is enhanced by the new love in my life. It's a pen.

I like to use a fountain pen, I feel this will not surprise you.

For Christmas this year I received the most excellent of fountain pens, a vintage Parker 51. I am not sure I have mentioned it before, but I should tell you that The Technical Advisor rather excels at present buying. I didn't even know I wanted this pen but now I have it I may never write with anything else. It feels so comfortable in my hand and writes with incredible fluidity, the forming of each word becomes a tactile and pleasurable experience. As with all things old I love to think of who may have owned it over the years, I like to wonder about the offices it may have worked in or the love letters penned.

To add to its charms, it doesn't even take dull old cartridges. It uses the thrillingly named Aerometric filling system (a refinement of the original Vacumatic system) and simply suctions up the ink straight from a glass bottle.

I can hardly wait until filling time.

2012-01-04T11:09:00.004Z

Today

I can hear the kettle whistle loud and clear, only the gentle hum of Radio 4 to accompany its urgent screech.

Once the lunches were made, the bags packed, breakfasts eaten and buses caught I returned to this quiet house.

I contemplated silence and the settling into a new-old routine once more.

As with each new term come my mixed feelings of peace and sadness.

For a little while I played Jenga with the minature Green & Blacks and photographed their tiny charms whilst considering which should accompany my quiet coffee. Hazelnut won out. Easing myself into 2012.

Happy New Year to all of you. May it be kind and gentle upon us all.

2011-12-21T15:38:00.007Z

Restoration sunlight

These last few weeks have been quite mad.

Orders have filled all moments and between times there has been frantic shopping, hastily prepared meals, school concerts and fairs.

I have run from here to there and back again. My head a whirl.

There were moments when I thought I might not cope. I have often been snappy and distracted.

In the midst of utter chaos of order packing last Friday the sun suddenly appeared and cast its glow across the kitchen table. It lit up cracks and danced across the polished wood. The walls moved and dappled in its light.

And I paused. I turned my face towards the sun and paused. I breathed deeply and slowly in its light and remembered just how much I have to be thankful for. I grabbed the camera and gazed through its lens, prolonging the moment. The joy of that warm, bathing light and what it meant to pause and count ones blessings.

It was the corner turning moment. This week has been bliss. School is finished. Orders all up to date and my virtual shop doors shut for now. There is baking and reading. The house is clean. It is time to enjoy my small patient people. The sun has not returned but if I close my eyes and pause a moment I can almost feel its regenerative power.

2011-12-07T08:43:00.004Z

Tick tock

Goes the clock. These last few weeks my eye is continually on the clock. I dash from computer to printer. From sewing machine to iron. From packaging to post office.

Family time has been poor.

There has been very little baking.

It is wonderful to be so busy, and every order is still a thrill but my goodness, I was not prepared and I am frantically treading water.

Somewhere amongst the blur of work my little girl turned nine and once again I wonder how? How can it be nine years? How can they go so fast?

Right now she is a sassy nine year old, she can make us laugh and make us want to cry. She is smart and funny and still a little vulnerable beneath that sharp exterior.

There was a sleepover of many girls, they giggled late into the night. There were roller blades which she is determinedly conquering and which fill me with terror.

There was a small amount of baking. A many layered chocolate cake. Decorated with... chocolates.

And the birthday decorations are still hanging high, gathering dust, perhaps I shall just leave them for now. Declare them to be the beginning of Christmas.

2011-11-24T19:25:00.004Z

One Hundred Atishoos And A Tunnocks Tea Cake

When I was a child we rarely had home-baked treats, in fact, only when my Nana had been to visit. I was a child of the 1970's and my after school daily snacks consisted of buttered Rich Tea biscuits, sandwiched together so the butter would squeeze, worm like, out of the holes. Sometimes there were Fig Roles or Jaffa Cakes. My little sister was taken to the see the doctor because for a time it seemed that all she would eat was Jaffa Cakes, the wise doctor assured my mother that it was not the end of the world and that there were plenty of children in the world who would be very glad of a Jaffa Cake.

My own favourite treat, even more than pink wafer biscuits, was the Tunnocks Tea Cake. The pleasure began with that cheery yellow box and the see through lid, then the careful unwrapping of the mesmerising shiny striped tinfoil. The foil was always saved for smoothing and admiring later.

The chocolate top was gently cracked. Eaten piece by piece.

Then the mallow.

Licked slowly, like an ice-cream cone.

Finally the biscuit base, rotated like a wheel for even nibbling.

Handmade at Poshyarns orders have been exceptionally busy just lately and this week I have embroidered Atishoo no less than one hundred times. There has been no baking and my children have been forced to experience 1970's style snacking.

They are rather enjoying the Tunnocks Tea Cakes.

2011-11-22T19:58:00.007Z

The right tools

My tissue case template is cut from a cereal box.

My turning tools are knitting needles and paint brush handles.

My pin cushion is, all too often, the arm of the chair.

When making jelly preserves I have a complicated arrangement that involves upending a chair and suspending the muslin bag from it's legs.

I use a tea cup to cut scones.

A crochet hook is kept in the bathroom and used to remove hair from the plughole. I know, sorry.

Barbecue tongs stand guard in the fireplace, ready to place the next log.

And my food processor requires a cocktail stick to be jammed into a slot before it works.

But when it comes to cutting fabric, I dearly love my rotary cutter, it is exactly the right tool for the job. The paperweight is perhaps less obvious but applies itself brilliantly and the metal ruler belongs the Technical Advisor. We tussle over it. He retrieves it periodically from my room and tries to hide it in his man cave. But I always find it and it is the perfect tool for the job.

2011-11-17T21:07:00.003Z

One, two, three

I once had a cleaner (way back when life was very different) who liked symmetry. There is no symmetry in three. She and I would perform little weekly tussles over the grouping of objects around my home.

Upon the mantlepiece there were two small groups of objects - vases and bowls, a propped plaster relief, sometimes a little tower of beach stones - that sort of thing. I always placed them carefully off-centre in their little groups, I liked them to look as though they had organically arrived there and indeed I suppose they had. Over time. As any new build Show House or Room Set is surely testimony to, it is very difficult to dress a room and immediately achieve a comfortable, believable look.

Of course the lived in look is not for everyone and certainly was not to my cleaner's taste. Each week she would carefully re-arrange my objects into evenly spaced pairs. Two by two. Photographs were placed square on, no casual angles. Cushions exactly placed, corners sharp and square.

Each week I would go around the house, after she left, and put them all back.

We never talked about it. We just carried on our silent battle.

Nowadays a cleaner is way out of my budget and my little piles and groups sit as they should. With a layer of dust upon them.

2011-11-15T22:50:00.004Z

Somehow sort of

Once upon a time I exercised a lot. I began ballet lessons at about 6 years of age. I took my exams, won medals, danced on pointe. I read Noel Streatfeild and dreamed of dancing. I expected to be a ballerina and perhaps I could have been.

If I had kept it up.

But then I discovered teenage kicks. I wanted to put on lip gloss and go to town on Saturday mornings, not warm up in an icy cold hall.

So ballet was forgotten and other than that which was enforced by school, exercise and I parted way.

My twenties rolled by without any exercise other than bad dancing in nightclubs. Then my thirties arrived and I felt the need to try again. It took only a handful of visits to realise that the gym was not for me. On the other hand Yoga felt like coming home.

Every so often I would try something else, something more aerobic, but would quickly fail to keep it up. I attemtped running again and again, carefully followed the Couch to 5k plans but without success. It was too hard. I was not a runner.

Then someone gave me some very good advice. Just keep running, no matter how slow.

So I did. I ran so slowly it was laughable, barely breaking a sweat, perhaps even slower than I walk. It was a revelation.

I kept it up. A few times a week when walking the dogs I would run, oh so slowly, instead of walking.

And one day I started to like it. I run most days now. Not far, it's about two and half miles. I am faster now but won't be winning any prizes and I am not sure I will ever run much further. It doesn't matter, because I am so happy to be doing it. Running through the woods, marking the daily changes of the season, breathing deeply, dogs by my side. It's fantastic and I finally get it. Somehow I became a sort of runner.

2011-11-14T19:05:00.005Z

Oops

Yes, I fell off the NaBloPoMo but I am ready to jump right back on that horse.

I left home early and arrived back late on Saturday, too dark for pictures, as the these surely demonstrate and much too late for my brain to formulate words.

Sunday? Well, same thing pretty much. Another market, this time the sun came out and shone gloriously, as it pretty much has done on every single Assington Farmer's Market thus far. I cannot tell you how it lifted the mood after so many days of grey.

The grey returned today but Sunday's sunshine is still fresh enough in the memory to feed my soul.

My model? The lovely Sarah of Casey's Cakes. I am rather thrilled every time I see Sarah wearing the apron, she wears it so beautifully. Sarah also makes amazing cakes and puddings, The Technical Advisor goes quite weak at the knees for her Bakewell Slices. You can find Casey's Cakes (and me) at Lavenham Farmer's Market on 25th November

Thank you so much for all your recent comments, I have relished and smiled at every single one, please know how very much they are appreciated.

2011-11-11T19:35:00.004Z

Strange but true

Now I really hope that what I am about to say does immediately lead to readers running from my blog with all the haste they can muster.

But it struck me this morning, a little blearily admittedly as it was 6.45am, that I rather like ironing.

I'm not sure how it happened. Very gradually I think. As I have mentioned before I rather like ironing freshly washed brand new fabric lengths but this is a little different.

This is napkins and tea towels and crisp, double cuffed shirts. Bed linen and t-shirts. All carefully pressed and folded.

I like it. I like how they look, I like the smell, I like the steam. I find myself enjoying the process, it feels....quite relaxing! Is this what middle age feels like?

I will be attending my first Christmas Event tomorrow (and am feeling full of nerves) - Walpole Barn If you are in the vicinity I do hope you will say hello.

2011-11-10T22:15:00.004Z

Almost

I almost didn't make my post.

Just one of those days. Time marched too fast.

I am short on words today, my head too full of whirring to make sense. Just this vintage suitcase to show you. I use it to transport my wares and for display. It makes me smile every time I use it. I like to think of the places it has been, the sights it has seen. When I bought it I intended to refurbish the interior.

But as it turned out I could not quite bring myself to cover up its memories.

2011-11-09T18:59:00.005Z

Right now

I am up to my eyes in linen rabbit limbs, key fobs and and bookmarks. I feel quite panic stricken, so much work still ahead.

I need to centre.

Focus.

Prioritise.

So I left the chaos of my studio, snapped shut my To Do List and did some baking. Calm was restored for a short while, baking may well be Yoga for my mind.

I made biscotti. The same way I always make them.

Chocolate & almond, a hint of orange zest. And when I dunk them in my morning coffee I will think of Not So Granny who made me laugh out loud with her comment on the To Dunk post - "This is going to make me sound frightfully middle class but I only dunk biscotti in latte".

2011-11-08T19:21:00.004Z

The scent of the unexpected

Today as I ran in the woods the normally dry, hard ground felt soft and damp beneath my feet. The recent rain has awakened this woodland, the ivy and holly are glossy with raindrops, the fallen leaves smell sweet and earthy like rich, fresh compost. This familiar trail has been rendered strange and different in rainfall. The dogs know it too, their noses twitching all the while, tails held high, ears pricked for signs of life.

As I rounded the top corner of the woodland the most incredible scent filled my nostrils. Warm, mossy honeysuckle and rose. It unnerved me initially, so unexpected, so wrong in November. It was deeper and more grown up than the scent of Spring and Summer, a very last few flowers clinging on for life in these dimly lit days, somehow awakened and invigorated by the rainfall. I really cannot tell you how wonderful it was, like that very particular smell of a re-discovered favourite wool sweater. Layer upon layer of scent that can never quite be removed by occasional washing. Memories immediately sharpened.

I came home and sprayed myself liberally with Joy and re-visited my well thumbed copy of Perfumes: The A-Z Guide . I spent a rather happy coffee break lost in fragrances remembered.

2011-11-07T20:25:00.004Z

To dunk

Or not to dunk.

I grew up very much a non-dunker of biscuits.

This may be in part due to the fact that my childhood biscuit tin consisted mostly of Jaffa Cakes and Fig Rolls. Yes, I know, that raises a whole other can of worms, is it a cake or is it a biscuit? For the purposes of this discussion my point is that whatever their official VAT related status may be, they are not great for dunking. Entirely the wrong texture.

I spent my student years rather horrified by all the dunking that went on around me. Being un-initated, and predominantly a coffee drinker, it seemed an alien habit indeed.

Then I met The Technical Advisor and had to modify my views on dunking.

And eventually I joined him. In tea drinking and dunking.

But only Ginger Nuts. Surely there cannot be a biscuit better suited to dunking?

In case you were wondering, I make my Ginger Nuts according to the excellent Linda Collister recipe in my well thumbed copy of Cookies, Biscuits and Biscotti (The baking series)

2011-11-06T18:01:00.004Z

Sunday lunch

Lunch for twelve rapidly reduced to just the four of us, it is the season of germs and ailments after all.

Not the end of the world, same components, less potatoes to peel and less washing up.

And we still laid the silver and lit the candles.

Early candles are one of November's most redeeming qualities. The soft, warm glow instantly transforms the greyest of days. Moods immediately lifted from claustrophobic gloom to cosy comfort.

Favourite ideas for left over roast pork gratefully received.

2011-11-05T19:19:00.003Z

Isn't it lovely...

That both children are learning to play brass instruments.

At least that is what I keep telling myself.

2011-11-04T14:49:00.005Z

Put a ribbon on it

I have always had a ribbon habit. I remember my Primary Ballet exam, way back many years ago. I recall some nerves about the exam itself and I retain some memory of all the practise but my overwhelming memory is of the dress.

A white embroidery anglaise cotton dress. It was sleeveless with a simple round neck, fitted bodice and flared skirt. I loved that white embroidered cotton, I remember my fascination with the pattern and tracing it over and over with my fingertips. I could hardly sleep for wishing to wear that dress.

The crowning glory of the dress was its ribbon sash. A thick navy blue velvet ribbon - rich, soft velvety ribbon. I loved the plush pile and the perfect bow it made. There was extra ribbon too, enough for my hair. Two high pigtails, curled and tied with ribbon.

I know, it sounds so very old fashioned now. I had actual ringlets in my hair! I have no idea what they wear nowadays, I am pretty sure it involves lycra.

That was the beginning of my ribbon love.

Now I have a jar stuffed full of scraps and I try to use every last little piece. I have longer pieces hanging from my pin board and stuffed into tiny drawers and sometimes I day dream about being locked overnight in V W Rouleaux. I still love velvet but I think my overwhelming preference these days is for grosgrain. The very word itself is so satisfying. Grosgrain.

I like it plain.

I like it striped.

Naturally I need to keep coming up more reasons to stash ribbon and right now it's bookmarks which you can find in the Handmade at Poshyarns shop.

2011-11-03T16:04:00.004Z

Caught in the act

The days are growing cooler and the dogs no longer search the house for a sunbeam to lie in or a cool place to sit.

If you walk quietly through the sitting room they can occasionally be caught enjoying their current favourite resting place.

It is rather frowned upon.

But hard to police.

And apparently the lure of a large feather sofa is just too hard to resist.

2011-11-02T18:01:00.005Z

Colouring the day

Having declared my intention to post daily through November I immediately found myself feeling utterly blocked and bereft of words on Day 2. Even work related crafting threw up no inspiration as it seems all I have done for days is sew tissue cases and bookmarks. Tissue cases and bookmarks.

On the knitting front I do have a beautiful completed Terra shawl and in spite of the fact that it has been around my neck the whole day long following last night's cast off; it really isn't ready for its beauty shots until I get I make the time to block it into its full lacy splendour.

So I picked up my camera and spent five minutes wandering around, absently snapping, hoping words would follow pictures, somehow. Still nothing.

I sat down and uploaded the images and to my surprise saw a very clear pattern. You see it, don't you?

Orange all around, some yellow and red but almost every picture I took today features orange as the main attraction. I am fairly certain that if I were to look back through my archives, through the hundreds and thousands of images that I have taken in the last 5 years, there would not be so many orange pictures as I have taken today. I wonder why?

2011-11-01T20:15:00.003Z

Forming a habit

I once read that you had to do a thing 30 times to make it a habit, or in the case of olives, you have to try them 30 times before you like them.

But I have read contrary statements too. And I have always liked olives.

Did you know that November is National Novel Writing Month. I have always been intrigued by the idea of writing a novel in a month, even tempted to try, just to see what would happen, to see if I could discipline myself in such a way. To see if the words would somehow flow under pressure.

But it won't be happening this year. This year my November is all about back to back sewing as crazy craft fair season is very much upon me.

However I did think I might have a go at NaBloPoMo, a blog post each day for a month. It might be possible and it would feel good to regain the habit.

I see Ali is playing along too. Anyone else?

2011-10-28T12:28:00.005Z

Tiny things

Tiny dustpans and brushes are perfect for cleaning up tiny snippets of fabric.

Over the last year a number of toys have left the house and as the children become older it becomes more and more apparent that there are plenty more could go. I look forward to the extra space and lack of plastic but there are some things I am not sure I am ready to part with.

Like this little red dustpan and brush. The tools of many a doll's house spring clean or tiny tea party crumb removal.

As a result of various wholesale enquiries I have recently reviewed my product pricing and I am afraid some prices have had to increase in order to keep up with the increasing cost of materials, postage and so on. However, in case anyone out there was planning on ordering something and is now kicking themselves for delaying I am offering a discount this weekend, it seems only fair. For your 10% discount just enter the code OCTOBER11 when checking out of the Handmade at Poshyarns Shop, it will remain valid until 1st November.

2011-10-26T14:41:00.006Z

Restore

We had a week by the sea.

And feel fully re-charged, revived, restored.

There was sand.

Holes were dug. And jumped in.

Sand towns were planned and built.

Sea was gazed at.

Surf was boarded.

Friends were loved.

Cartwheels were turned.

There are surely few things better than St Ives with friends.

2011-10-10T13:00:00.007Z

The joy of the season

Just over a week ago we stood on warm sand and let the sea lick our toes as the sun bathed us warmly.

In the East of England.

In October.

Just over a week later and that Indian Summer seems a lifetime away. Autumn is most certainly knocking at the door. Indeed, it is positively shouting down the chimney.

And yet I love it.

Just as much as I loved standing on that sun-kissed shoreline.

As I ran through the woods this morning Autumn roared its presence through the trees. The leaves blew and the light was glorious, golden and soft. The woods smelled damp and warm, my feet crunched upon crisp, coloured leaves and the dogs stopped to pull chestnut shells from their paws.

As I ran I declared my love for Autumn, claimed it as my favourite season of all and then, as I thought about that statement, I realised that I think the very same thing every single season. I love Winter, those days when the low, pale sun glistens across a frozen landscape, the pleasure of an evening around a warm fire indoors. Then comes Spring, with its acid bright greens, abundance of blossom, the sun so bright and new. But Summer, how could I not love Summer - its slow, hazy days, the colours bleached and faded in the warm sun.

So there it is, I could not give up even one of these seasons or ours. I embrace each one and a few months later tire of its presence and prepare to welcome the next but right now, oh yes, right now it's all about Autumn. My favourite season right now, I want to breathe it in, soak it up, I shall not miss a moment.

The aprons clearly have no bearing on the post whatsoever but have just been added to the Handmade at Poshyarns shop, perfect for Autumnal kitchen pottering.

2011-10-04T17:23:00.003Z

Knuckling down

Over the last few months I have come up with lots of new products to take to the craft fairs and Farmer's Markets that I have been attending. The pressure of committing to these events has been something of a creative kick up the proverbial, in fact it has been really good for me; in addition to a bulging sketch book my range now includes aprons, key fobs, bookmarks, hair slides and more.

Unfortunately the kick has not extended to my on-line shop. I have been lazy about adding these things, there never seem to be enough hours to photograph and add the copy. Yes, excuses, excuses.

So I have given myself a stern talking to.

And hope to knuckle down over the next few weeks.

Rosetta Rabbit took her place in the Handmade at Poshyarns shop today.

She was named by her very first customer, the lovely young Natalie. I think she chose rather well.

2011-10-02T17:34:00.004Z

Because you asked so nicely

We use napkins every day. We each have our own silver napkin ring with which to identify our napkin. The napkin rings have all been gathered over time, each a little battered, all found one by one in junk shops and car boot sales. There are lots of napkins, all soft and worn with laundering. Ecru linen, cheerful checks and vintage white linens and damasks. And yes Karen, I do iron them.

And now, because so many of you asked, the Apple Cake recipe is listed below. I was given this recipe by my friend and neighbour Lydia. I first ate it whilst living in a beautiful Rutland village, we were sitting on her back step in the afternoon sunshine and watching our children play. It must have been 10 years ago or more and yet I remember the taste, the moment, the blue sky above. She was given the recipe by her friend and she wrote it out for me, I still have that hand-written piece of paper, now laminated, I keep it with my favourite recipes and rather like the fact that it is not metric.

Lydia's Apple Cake

5oz butter
2 lg eggs
8oz caster sugar
1 tsp almond extract
8oz self raising flour and 11/2 tsp baking powder
11/2 lb cooking apples (un-peeled weight) - peeled and roughly sliced

Oven 375 F, 190 C, Gas 5
10" loose bottom tin

Melt the butter until just runny and pour into a large bowl. Add eggs, sugar, almond extract and beat well.

Fold in the flour and baking powder. Spread 2/3 of mixture into tin, pile apples on top and dot remaining batter over the apples. It will be nigh impossible to evenly spread, no matter, this cake is one of those magical ones that makes it all OK in the oven.

Bake for 50-75 minutes, depending on your oven. It takes an hour in my current oven, in my previous oven it took almost 11/2 hours but I had to cover with tinfoil to prevent burning. I would advise checking it at 50 minutes and if it is almost done then check again in seven minutes, and so forth.

As previously mentioned, it will not be a beauty prize winner but dust with icing sugar if you please and make a cup of tea. Also, jolly good with cream for pudding.

2011-09-28T15:01:00.007Z

But this I know

There are very few certainties in life, aside from death and taxes, as the saying goes.

As I grow older I find I become less certain, less opinionated, more easily swayed. I know this is not true of everyone, many people become more sure of their thoughts and views as time passes, I suspect it may be particular to this stage of motherhood. As the boy works his way through age 12 I find my firmest certainties tested on a regular basis.

I can no longer can be sure of his clothing tastes, it seems Gap is grounds for playground bullying and even buying underpants or socks is fraught with difficulty. I pace the store, pick up, put down, not sure. Not sure.

Food is surprisingly tricky too, why did both my children develop a strong hatred of bananas at around age 6, a food they were practically weaned on. I know for certain that during the toddler years I never left the house without an emergency banana in my bag yet now they visibly gag and bananas cannot even be absorbed in undercover, chocolate covered disguise.

The Tomato Tart greeted with glee one week will be heckled with abandon a month later.

But this I know for sure, my Apple Cake is loved by the boy. It is in his top 10 of favourite foods and for a boy with a top 100 this is no mean feat.

This cake will not win the beauty prize it is a homely sort of cake, a hint of almond and dense, damp apple sponge are its secret weapons. A cake for tea, a cake for after school, a cake for lunch boxes. A cake certain to please.

2011-09-20T15:43:00.004Z

Every button tells a story

One of the things I really enjoy about selling at fairs and markets is the people I meet. My working day is normally a quiet and solitary one so market days are quite a contrast.

Ideas are exchanged, stories swapped and I always keep a little sketchbook to hand as inspiration often strikes as a result of something that happens on my stall that day. A number of new products and a great many products in pipeline are as a direct result of conversations with customers.

One such conversation resulted in the most wonderful gift to me.

A lady was pondering my stall and suddenly asked if I might have use of her Mother's Button Tin. You can imagine just how very enthusiastic I was and today that lovely lady delivered those buttons.

I know that many of you reading will appreciate exactly how wonderful this gift was to me. Buttons are lovely things and given the choice between old and new I would choose old every time. Charity shops are great sources of old buttons but to receive a whole collection, well, words fail.

The vintage sweet tin is a thing of beauty in itself but this afternoon Tilly and I opened up that tin and spent a very happy hour or so going through the treasure within.

I love to think of one person collecting these buttons, a life-time's worth, within this tin a family story contained. Many of the buttons have been sorted and threaded into groups. This lady and I shared a favour for certain colour combinations.

I am rather thrilled that she looped the red, aqua and cream buttons together, what a pleasing combination. I wonder why she put them together? For her own pleasure or with thoughts of a project?

The little blue butterflies took Tilly's eye immediately.

And the dark, fancy, evening style buttons. All strung together, properly categorized. I wonder what what parties they attended, the clothes they adorned? My glamour girl suggested I sew them to a disco suit, I thought maybe disco brooches would be more appropriate.

That lady's daughter was so very generous to give me this tin of treasure, I know that she is glad to think of them being put to use and I am fairly certain that her mother, that careful saver of buttons, would be pleased to know that her collection was so appreciated. As I sew with these buttons I will think about their stories, imagine the adventures behind them and the new stories ahead.

2011-09-15T19:15:00.004Z

The younger man

For about a month each year The Technical Advisor thoroughly enjoys the privilege of being the younger man.

It is only a month but he does not let me forget my Mrs Robinson status for a moment. A few days ago the balance was re-dressed and we are the same age once again.

I have been enjoying the remains of his birthday cake this week. Taken outside with coffee, bathed in the golden sunlight of these September mornings.

Listening to the pine needles fall and watching the grapes begin to ripen.

2011-09-14T14:58:00.004Z

When desire wins out

I was knitting something else. Another Whisper , in red it would be a useful addition to my wardrobe. I knit with very practical applications. But Whisper is a cardigan for Spring and Summer and as the light changed day by day it simply did not feel quite right. I felt unable to commit. Something else was calling.

Softest Vail, by Classic Elite.

Bought in Loop a few weeks ago. I walked in with a list of several possible project requirements, each pattern carefully researched and the considered. The yarn choices properly weighed, their pros and cons long thought about.

Needless to say my list was abandoned.

And faced with "Knitters Wall" I panicked.

I was overwhelmed with desire.

I impulse shopped. This was the softest yarn, the most gentle of shades. The one I could not stop thinking about as I walked around the shop.

And of course it had to be lace. Another shawl upon the needles, a lightweight version of Brooklyn Tweed's beautiful Terra. It feels like coming home after a long journey. Soothing and comforting. The perfect knitting to make the end of summer feel easier, the right sort of knit to accompany me upon the sofa as the season changes, as Autumn beds in.

2011-09-05T09:31:00.006Z

If you go down to the woods

As summer continues to wind down I need to reflect upon all that has been. One of the many good things to come out of blogging is the recording of moments that might otherwise have been forgotten.

I am simply dreadful at doing anything with those hundreds, no, thousands, of photographs digitally stored. So at least the blog creates a record of sorts. Enough to jog a memory. Enough to make a smile.

So it would be very remiss of me not to blog about our Yorkshire adventure.

Early in August two mummies and four children went Glamping. The mummies packed wrecklessly without the influence of their husbands. They casually flung things into their cars with no regard for creating a neat and tidy boot space, no consideration whatsoever for the science of packing the car.

One mummy packed no waterproofs or fleeces. She sensibly reasoned that it would only be more washing at the end of the day.

They brought an interesting selection of food. There were three different varieties of olive oil. Some brioche rolls. One cooked ham. One large sticky ginger cake. Four bottles of jolly good wine. A box of cocoa Shreddies. A jar of stuffed peppers. And plenty of chocolate.

The first evening's dinner was declared a great success by the five year old in particular. At the age of five life doesn't get much better than Brioche ham sandwiches and ginger cake all on the same plate.

Day two and the Mummies had grand ambitions centred around the barbeque. Two chickens, a tray of roasted vegetables and maybe a cream sauce. Several hours later they laughed together in the kitchen as they mashed assorted root vegetables and tore the half-cooked meat from the chicken carcass with the help of a bread knife. The haphazardly filleted chicken pieces were quite successfully sauted over the two ring gas burners and the Mummies agreed that barbecuing certainly should be left to men, indeed, they are most welcome to it.

Dinner was quite late that night. The twelve year old had rather overdone things through the day and one bite of creamy chicken was too much. You have never seen so much vomit.

In a tent.

One Mummy cupped her hand and the other held a saucepan out. The Mummies still laughed.

It rained every night. Heavily. But we kept the wood stove burning and rather enjoyed the noise of it. It dampened spirits not one bit. And I think the children enjoyed the outdoors all the more for the mud.

By day three the Mummies had lost track of time altogether. I know we ate chocolate and ginger cake but cannot remember much else. We all appeared to thrive on whatever meals were eaten and at whatever strange times of day. The children were completely feral now.

All refused any suggestions of bathing apart from five year old who had become quite entranced by the "funny bath".

The children were rarely seen but sometimes their war-cries could be heard in the distance, as they ran through the woods with the pack.

They could generally be rounded up late at night, the rustle of a marshmallow packet usually brought them to the fireside.

Day five. Some people ate meringues with cream and strawberries for breakfast.

It was so very hard to leave.

*We stayed at the Jolly Days Campsite in Yorkshire and I simply cannot recommend it highly enough. The sort of holiday that dreams and memories are made of.

2011-08-30T15:51:00.006Z

At summer's close

Yesterday they began to plough the field behind our house.

And as I ran through The Thicks I heard it whispered on the wind, the wind that already sends the dry, crisp leaves spiralling to the ground.

The close of summer.

The final chapters.

It has gone too fast. Each year seems quicker.

So much not done, that bleached out golden field of wheaten stubble not gazed upon enough. Over too soon.

But it has been a good one. Long summer days. Garden camping, real life glamping, trips here and there. Visits from friends.

And we flew a few kites.

I have been away from the blog for so long and I have missed the excuse to reflect and pause but normal service is now resumed. I hope you are still out there reading and that your summers have been good?

2011-08-03T15:16:00.004Z

The marching of time

Over a week has gone by since my last post, I did not mean for the time to go by so fast, but it did.

Twelve years went by just as quickly.

In the blink of an eye.

How can it be that he no longer crawls into my lap and falls asleep,
Or makes those baby gurgles and giggles?
Why am I no longer the very centre of his world,
why does he no longer like to have raspberries blown upon his tummy?

Where did that chubby tummy go?

This tall and lanky gorgeous boy of mine has just turned 12 years old, he makes me laugh, he makes me mad, he educates me, he makes me whole. Happy Birthday Dylan.

2011-07-24T19:59:00.003Z

Red sky at night

Shepherd's delight.

A Suffolk sunset, I meant to catch it earlier, at its most splendid. But was distracted.

I raced down the garden and caught it just as it disappeared below the horizon. I feel ready to exhale now. School has finally finished. Six weeks of sunset gazing ahead. Bliss.

2011-07-16T18:20:00.005Z

Running for the lemons

If you have been reading here for any length of time you will know that a grey day is sure to send me running for the lemons.

Today has been downright deep grey, the sort of rain that surely should not come on a warm July day. So I reached for the lemons and baked a cake.

This grey wet day my scrumptious eight year old Tilly had her perfect skin painted in blue eye-shadow, pink blusher, lips where painted red. She has so been looking forward to that part, so pleased to see it written in black white - "make-up must be worn". Her unruly long curls were scraped back and constructed in a bun, lacquered into sticky rigidity.

The weekend of the ballet show.

She looked in the mirror when I finished. Was silent for a moment. Then said "I don't think children should wear make-up". We smiled and laughed and hugged.

We watched her dance. So glad that we could pick her out, so happy that she could seem us too. We had inappropriate fits of the giggles too, the Technical Advisor and I, the sort of silent, stomach aching, eye-watering laughter that make you think you might die if you have to hold them in any longer. The row of seats shook with our convulsions.

And I wept a little. When they all came back for the encore and I saw her shining face. She is so very tired, it has been such work and there are several more shows to go but I saw her eyes shine out and I remembered how good it is to be a part of something and I cried with happiness.

2011-07-14T10:10:00.004Z

Knitting as fast as I can

Because I am running out of yarn.

Indeed I already ran out and had to rip back and make the sleeves shorter.

But I did this in a haphazard sort of way, with no proper counting or calculating.

And I did not make them short enough.

So I ran out of yarn again.

Surprisingly, once again I took the devil may care approach, no considered thought or measurements taken.

When ripping back for the third time I decided to employ some maths.

My ever decreasing sleeves should be finished tonight.

I hope.

2011-07-08T16:03:00.005Z

Life is just a bowl of cherries

The cherries came early this year and for the last two weeks I have been silently begging them to hold on just a little longer, pleading for the birds to hold off another few days.

Because I simply had too much going on to spend a day stoning cherries.

We have not totally neglected the cherries, there has been claffoutis of course and we have eaten many.

But there simply wasn't time to stone them.

Because it takes a very long time to stone 2kg of cherries.

I had mentally planned it for today, today I could make the time. Today it was raining and blowing a gale, more like an October's day than mid-July. The irony of wobbling upon a wet and windblown stepladder in order to pick the most summery of fruits was not lost upon me and as I climbed higher, reached further, wobbled harder; I considered the wisdom of solo cherry picking on such a day.

But do you know? Later, as I sat in my kitchen with the hum of Radio 4 in the background, I could think of no better day for cherry stoning. And the pleasure of standing over a steaming preserve pan, the cherries rolling and bubbling within whilst the rain tip-taps upon the skylights, well it can scarcely be beaten. A warm and busy kitchen is a very good place to be on a day like this.

And whatever the forecast is for tomorrow, it will almost certainly be the right time to eat sweet cherry jam upon fresh baked bread.

2011-07-05T14:50:00.007Z

Breaking out the colour

I really love working with natural coloured linen and it is such a great background for those Liberty prints, but this year I noticed that the rather super Ray-Stitch had some good quality, heavier weight, coloured linens. I spent a long time deliberating but in the end I decided to be brave and order.

The deep grey linen arrived it had a lovely handle and I knew that the weight was perfect for phone cases and that sort of thing, but I was anxious.

I always use ecru.

What if my customers did not like grey? What if none of my Liberty prints worked with this grey?

I made a few and took them to Woodbridge on Saturday. Hurrah, they sold beautifully.

Dark, elephant grey linen and Liberty Tana Lawn, in the Handmade at Poshyarns shop now.

2011-06-28T16:23:00.004Z

And the rains came down

The weekend was hot, the markets were good, but hot, so hot. I find myself becoming more relaxed behind my stall now. It all feels more natural and less daunting and on Saturday I had a most enormous surprise when I was recognized by a reader! Hello Jill, I do hope the real me has not put you off reading....

Right now the Suffolk sky above is bruised purple, black and grey. The promised storm finally arrived this afternoon and how glorious the rains have been. There were rumbles and crashes, flashes of light and fat heavy raindrops. The storm has moved along now, a soft, misty rain persists and glimpses of light blue can be seen through cracks in the darkness.

The air felt instantly fresher and I feel reinvigorated once more.

Which is just as well, there is sewing to be done.

Linens gently striped and trimmed in Liberty, ready for the Woodbridge Market this weekend.

2011-06-24T20:10:00.004Z

To market to market

Twice this weekend.

If you happen to be in the vicinity of Bury St Edmund's tomorrow please come and say hello to me at the Handmade at Poshyarns stall in the Abbey Gardens. I promise not to bite.

And on Sunday you can find me in Lavenham, hopefully in the sunshine, at the Farmer's Market, from 10am until 1.30pm

2011-06-22T14:47:00.004Z

Meet the blogger

Some weeks ago the lovely Silver Pebble suggested we meet, she would come to Lavenham. It couldn't be easier.

I was nervous.

What if she was a weirdo?

What if we had nothing to talk about?

What if I am a wierdo?

The appointed date came and it was raining. The place we had arranged to meet is no longer where it should be. I got out my phone and felt a little panicky that I would miss her somehow. Stand her up. Be a rude blogger. It was pouring with rain and difficult to juggle my phone, bag, over large umbrella. Then I saw some some rather fabulous red wellies on the other side of the street.

And I knew that this must be the person I was meeting because I really liked her wellies.

We had lunch, the time flew, we talked non-stop, she was not a weirdo and was much too polite to call me one.

She gave me the most beautiful bunch of flowers from her garden, their scent filled my car all the way home. And this adorable brooch, so beautifully drawn, such a perfect English cottage garden scene. When the summer flowers have faded I will be reminded of their glory each time I wear this brooch and I will smile. Thank you Emma.

2011-06-16T13:41:00.004Z

Today I am

Enjoying:

a vase of daisies, self seeded they flourish in the long grass at the bottom of the garden.

Eating:

lemon cookies, lemon scented buttery shortbread style biscuits.

Drinking:

delicate, refreshing, white tea, from the Savoy, no less. A gift from my dear friend Kate.

Sewing:

with grey linen, a departure yes, but I love it, seems to go with all my favourite Liberty prints.

Listening to:

the rain. So rarely heard these days, softly tip-tapping upon the skylight, awakening the scent of rose and honeysuckle through the open window.

What are you doing today?

2011-06-09T14:37:00.004Z

Extra large, please

At this time of year I rarely buy flowers at the market, instead I fill my vases with random selections of what is available in the garden, a few roses, some cow parsley, daisies and bits of greenery. Different every time, each vase a hotchpotch of colour yet always beautiful and summery.

A couple of weeks ago one of my Not On The Highstreet customers contacted me with a special request.

A tea cosy made to fit an extra large tea pot and adorned with as many colourful Liberty print flowers as I wished.

Normally my tea cosies feature flowers in just one print and it had really never occurred to me to mix them up.

But mix them I did.

And I loved the results.

It was so much fun to combine the prints and colours, I had to discard one or two but found most of the prints in my stash worked well together. I guess this is no surprise, I am certainly drawn to similar colours and styles over and over again.

This hotchpotch of flowers will certainly be repeated in the future and I like the idea that depending on what is available, the results will be a little different each time.

2011-06-06T12:44:00.004Z

Blowing bubbles

Half term is rolling to the finish all too soon.

The children return to school tomorrow.

The house will be quiet and still.

The dogs and I will slowly find our rhythm once more and soon we will be happy in our gentle solitude.

But, I will miss those two noisy little beings, gone each day, from 9 'til 4. I will miss the laughter, the tears, the jokes and the squabbles, the busy silences and the frequent floor shows. I will long for the end of term yet, each half term, each summer break, each winter holiday, they grow a little older, a little further from me and it rather breaks my heart for I know that one day there will be no one blowing bubbles for my pleasure and amusement.

2011-06-02T15:46:00.006Z

Days like these

Somewhere along the way it would seem that May has left us and it really was such an incredible May. Full of sunshine and warmth, the days long and dry. Suffolk is quite breathtaking right now, its skies are wide and blue and the dark grey of winter seems so long ago to be almost forgotten. The acid yellow of the rape crop has already faded and the wheat is beginning to ripen, the cherries on my tree are beginning to blush - everything seems three weeks earlier than last year.

Today the children and I set off early to the woods, our mission to gather the elderflowers for this year's batch of cordial. The wood is dry and dusty, the earth cracked from too many weeks without rain but it still feels full of life, that slow, still summer feeling has not reached it yet. The birds sing busily and as we round each corner there is rustling in the undergrowth and we have that feeling of pairs of eyes watching us amongst the dappled light, the deer stand statue still and the dancing sun plays tricks so we cannot be certain that it is they. As we reach the clearing we leave the path in search of the best looking flowers, wading through bramble into the open area were the trees are still young and the best elderflower grows. Our ankles got scratched by the bramble already rampaging across the land but we were victorious.

Our basket filled quickly and we walked slowly home, only 11am but already we could feel the heat of the sun upon us, the oldest dog a little slower as the midday sun grew stronger.

How I love days like these.

2011-05-19T18:31:00.004Z

Today I am loving

English Asparagus, locally grown.

The scent of the roses outside my studio window.

This Liberty print.

Especially when paired with this pink linen.

And the fact that Handmade is definitely the New Black, resulting in lots of lovely new magazines celebrating crafts, makers and a gentler pace of life. Amongst the new launches, my own personal favourite - Handmade Living, in which I have a little column, What's on the Web! I am so excited to be writing this column, my chance to sing out loud about some of the beautiful things going on in this very special corner of blogland. This month I mentioned lovely Paula Valentim of Ottchipotchi, who makes me want to run away to Portugal and sink my hands in clay; and Celia Hart of Purple Podded Peas - some day I fully intend to own one of her prints.

2011-05-17T12:41:00.004Z

My favourite film and a very good sweater pattern

In a recent conversation with a friend I mentioned that my favourite film was Goodfellas, she thought for a moment and then agreed that it was one of her favourite films too. On days when I seem to be multi-tasking within an inch of my life I am always reminded by Goodfellas, the part where he is making the sauce for the meatballs, organising the drug drop, dealing with his mistress and sniffing more and more cocaine, the pace gets faster and faster as the helicopters circle and I always watch on the edge of my seat, transfixed. Ok, maybe my crazy days aren't quite like that but I appreciate the feeling.

I have thought about my choice for a long time, I know a lot of we craft blogger ladies go for Breakfast at Tiffany's and indeed I think that film very good, it's right up there in my top five and I begin to sob long before it even gets close to the bit were she throws cat out of the car but it's not my favourite. Goodfellas is my absolute favourite followed by American Gigolo - just love that final scene and well, Richard Gere in those tight trousers.

Thankfully my clothing choices are not influenced by my top two films and of course the elegantly Givenchy draped Audrey Hepburn is much more inspiring.

This is not a new knit, I made it once before. The very Audrey inspired Ingenue sweater from Custom Knits: 25 Projects (Plus Variations) and Techniques for Customizing to Fit Your Style and Your Body. This time I made it in black, and a little slimmer fitting in body and sleeves.

I love the neckline of this sweater.

And that brioche stitch detail.

I used Sirdar Balmoral a mix of wool, alpaca and silk. It is very lovely, very cheap and sadly very limited in colours.

Now, I would very much like to hear about your favourite films, please, do tell.

2011-05-13T18:47:00.004Z

One hundred and one uses for an egg box

Well, just one actually.

The perfect mobile hair slide crafting unit, little compartments for the different colours & sizes.

Easy to move from room to room or even outdoors should weather permit.

Finished slides can be stored along the edge.

Looking for all the world like a row of colourful, sugar free, lolly pops.

The slides will be listed in the shop soon but in the mean time I have added the tissue holders to the my Handmade at Poshyarns shop.

2011-05-11T13:33:00.003Z

A whole lot of new

I did not mean to be away so long this time, you all welcomed me back so warmly and then somehow here we are another week gone by.

I took another stall at Assington Farmer's Market this Sunday past. A flurry of making things for the stall and on-line orders. The days just flew.

It seems, as time goes by, that I find it too easy to get stuck in my ways, familiar is friendly. I bake the same things, cook the same meals, buy the same flowers, sew the same things and even knit the same things, socks are rhythmic and portable, I plan to make another Whisper Cardigan, or maybe Featherweight again.

The good thing about the Farmer's Market stall is the push it gives me to break out of my mould a little and try new things.

Over the last month or two I have been busy developing some new ideas, some of the jottings in my sketch books are finally being realised, it makes my life feel a little fast, all this new stuff. Better bake some chocolate chip cookies and sit down at my usual time. With my usual sort of tea. Phew, that's better.

When I recover myself I will be updating my Etsy shop with some of this new stuff. But not too fast, gently, bit by bit.

2011-05-04T12:05:00.004Z

Tiptoeing back in

My, it's looking a little dusty around here, where has the time gone? I did not intend to be away so long and now my voice feels rusty, after a blog absence it can be daunting to step back in, I find I need to test the water gently. A tiptoe if you will.

A few words today and more tomorrow.

These last few weeks have been heavenly though. The sun has shone here in Suffolk, the wisteria drips purple blooms from the kitchen roof, the bluebells fill the woods. There have been meals taken outdoors, bicycle rides, A&E (that boy, that boy!), chocolate eggs eaten and weddings celebrated.

And I have added a new cake to my baking rotation.

Orange & almond, my new favourite cake, baked twice in the last fortnight. I used the recipe from How To Eat: The Pleasures and Principles of Good Food (Cookery), one of my most useful cookery books. The recipe makes an excellent cake - damp and almondy, perfect with morning coffee, evening tea or even a glass of wine. A grown up sort of cake, understated and simple, it gets better with age. I will experiment though, my bookshelves and the internet reveal many variations upon the theme, it is important to ensure that I am not missing an even better version.

2011-04-18T16:09:00.007Z

Spring days

Sunshine on an early Spring day heralds the start of potion mixing season. Fairy soup, home made perfumes and curious bath time essences. Oh how I remember doing this in my own childhood and whilst I quietly dispose of the stagnant, rotting contents after suitable period of time has passed I cannot help but smile to know that blossom and water can still provide so much fun in a digital age.

The rhubarb has flowered once again. I cut the stems quickly, eager for the plant to return its energy to fruiting, these un-furling pink and green cauliflower like heads provide a strange sort of beauty when placed in a vase.

Tea outdoors, of course it tastes better.

Alongside potion mixing, den building is the order of the day.

Cherry blossom against a wide Suffolk sky. A promise of the fruits to come.

2011-04-13T15:39:00.004Z

The goodness of bacteria

I have wanted to make yoghurt for a very long time. Over the years I have periodically bid on yoghurt makers on Ebay, never winning any of them. Every six months or so the urge tickles once more and I waste a little time browsing various methods and machines.

Sometimes I was put off by the size of the machine.

Sometimes I was alarmed by the idea of mixing in a mysterious sachet of powder.

And often I was terrified by talk of temperature control and bacteria.

But yesterday, in an effort to distract a bored child, I took out my copy ofRiver Cottage Every Day

The method was explained in such a simple, matter of fact way and after all, Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall is the same man who gave me the confidence to mess around with boiling sugar and egg whites resulting in the very best marshmallows anyone ever tasted.

So we took courage and made yoghurt. It took minutes (well, apart from the waiting around bit). It really wasn't scary at all.

The results? Only the very best yoghurt anyone ever tasted. Seriously, this yoghurt is amazing, so fresh and creamy, truly better than any yoghurt we have ever tasted and that is before we even added anything. The children and I are smugly thrilled with our home made yoghurt.

The Technical Advisor is unconvinced and will not indulge, he is scared that I will poison him with my freely growing live bacteria. Sigh, but you cannot please all of them all of the time, such is life.

2011-04-12T15:33:00.004Z

Reaching the other side

So I limped my way through the end of last week, feeling very viral once again but in between running a temperature I managed odd bits of frantic sewing and preparing for Sunday's craft stall.

On Saturday as I sat shivering in the warmest sunshine we have had this year I really did wonder if The Technical Advisor might find himself standing in a marquis singing the praises of hand sewn hair slides and Liberty prints but around about 4pm adrenalin began to take over and much was suddenly achieved. I worked until late on Saturday night and went to bed with plenty of coughing.

Somehow, on Sunday morning I awoke buzzing and feeling good! The sun shone down and full of nerves I began to lay out my wares. I was surrounded by wonderful smells, there was bread and cheese. Pies and cakes. Gorgeous lotions and soaps, a stall full of beautiful greenery. There were tantalising sausages and curry to die for. Happy beef and of course there was Handmade at Poshyarns too.

I really was nervous, anxious that no one would buy, I wasn't sure that a Farmer's Market was even the right sort of venue for my first stall. But I need not of feared.

The people kept coming, hoards of them. There were cars parked right through the village and some of those people even bought my things! Hurrah, hurrah, I was so very relieved, the atmosphere was full of friendly bustle and I certainly hope to be doing it all over again at the next Assington Farmers' Market. By 2pm it was all over, I was quickly packed up and by 2.30pm I was back at home, sipping G&T in the garden (this is a very local event for me!) , grinning from ear to ear and feeling as though I had most certainly reached the other side of my little mountain.

2011-04-06T17:58:00.002Z

In praise of yarn

I first stumbled upon Quince and Co a couple of months ago and was immediately smitten with their beautiful pattern selection.

The yarns sounded exciting too and I cannot tell you how much I love the fact that they use the same colour palette across the entire yarn range. I don't know why more yarn companies don't do this and I have no idea why it makes me so happy, but it does.

Quince and Co is the baby of knitwear designers Pam Allen (former Interweave Knits editor) and Carrie Bostick Hope alongside historic mill rescuer Bob Rice. I fine pedigree indeed.

After several months of cyber stalking I could bear it no longer and placed an order. This is glorious Lark in Peacock. It is all that I hoped: soft, squishy, gorgeous saturated colour. It came wrapped in a brown paper bag and the enclosed compliments card had a handwritten note of thanks. Perfect in every way.

And in case you don't want to pay Royal Mail's rather irksome £8 handling fee (although even with that added on this yarn still works out at a very fair price compared to something like Rowan) the good news is that I have been reliably informed that Loop will be stocking Quince and Co yarn in the not too distant future.

2011-04-02T15:18:00.004Z

Saturday job

I had an array of Saturday jobs from an early age and whilst waiting for the early bus to work I often used to feel I was missing out on those teenage activities such as lying in bed or talking on the phone.

As I folded t-shirts under horrid florescent lights I would fret about not being able sit around chatting with my friends - smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking endless cups of coffee in dingy cafes.

But I did like the money in my pocket, the money to spend on new pairs of lacy tights and jingle jangle bangles, the money that paid for my Saturday nights out.

I found myself working today, the prevalence of germs in this house of late have put me way behind schedule with my craft fair preparations. So I sat in the garden, the sunshine was warm upon my shoulders, the scents of fresh mown grass and early blossom in my lungs, I had tea & a little snack to my elbow and I sewed. As I worked the birds sang for me and I did not resent working on a Saturday for even a second.

2011-03-30T10:55:00.005Z

Going viral

I have simply never known such a year for illness in this house. It seems that one child or another has been ill since Christmas, there have been very few school weeks that both of them have completed in tandem. The eleven year old suffered a virus for several weeks and finally the robust eight year old came down with a temperature last week. One week later she is still running a temperature. The doctor tells me it's viral.

And she kindly shared her germs. With both The Technical Advisor and I. No prizes for guessing which of us is suffering most. I think I am turning the other side today, my viral rash has appeared, it makes me look rather odd but does generally mean that I am finally getting the better of the germs.

Roll on Easter holidays is all I can say. This family needs R & R and chocolate.

I have a lot of work to do and things are going very slowly. The craft fair date is marching towards me and I think there may be some late nights ahead, but I will not let those darned germs get the better of me. Let's just hope that the viral rash has subsided by next week, it may very well put shoppers off! I did manage to add those cheery shopper bags to the Handmade at Poshyarns shop today, it took way too much technical wrestling let me tell you.

2011-03-24T19:23:00.004Z

Keeping the bookshelf busy

A funny thing happened a few weeks ago. I left a comment on a fairly new to me, very enjoyable blog, Tales From the Village , and guess what?

As a result of my comment, the very lovely people at Appliances Online treated me to a happy afternoon filling my basket on Amazon.

Now I normally decline any sort of advertising/reciprocal linky type stuff as it makes me feel a little uncomfortable and I prefer to keep my blog clutter free, however the people at Appliances Online were so very undemanding and generous. Furthermore I did indeed buy a fridge from them and found their service excellent, add to that the thought that they may be similarly generous to one of my dear readers (so do leave a comment) meant that I really could not say no.

I had fun on Amazon, first there was : The River Cafe Cook Book I know, I am so very late to the party on this one, I don't know why this book has not been on my shelves for years, a serious error. I believe it is known as a classic and this is well deserved praise indeed, I bought a second hand copy in near perfect condition.

Then I chose Baking Made Easy Hmm, not sure. I love her style but this was something of an impulse buy and if I am honest with myself, I could quite live without it. Beautifully photographed and a good selection of recipes but I already have really good versions of most of these recipes. I am not saying I don't recommend it, for someone with shelves less full of cook books it might be an excellent addition and I will certainly be trying the Whoopie Pies very soon.

I saved the best for last, Oliver + S Little Things to Sew: 20 Classic Accessories and Toys for Children Love, love this book, I will write more about it when I complete one of the projects. I am such a fan of Oliver & S patterns and this book does not disappoint, a wonderful selection of projects with Liesl's typically high standard of detail and finishing; if you follow her meticulous direction you can be assured of producing garments of the highest quality. The book has been really well designed with clear images and lovely full size patterns. You can read more over on the Oliver & S website.

Right, I am off to pour wine, eat chocolate and read a book. Heaven.

2011-03-21T12:14:00.004Z

Cast in gold

It has been a long winter, too many grey days, too cold, spring too slow in arriving.

But I think perhaps I have been too busy of late, too occupied with other things. For at some point in the last few weeks the days have grown longer, the sun has climbed higher and grown warmer.

Whilst preparing dinner I suddenly realised that the kitchen was bathed in golden light. It flooded in at every window, painting everything it reached. I stopped my rushing, picked up my camera and took the time to notice and drink it up, to relish and luxuriate in the moment.

Shafts of golden light fell upon the emerging buds of the young apple tree branch cut down by overzealous neighbours and placed optimistically in a jug of water.

The old wooden pew was brushed with a warm glow, the wood made warm and welcoming in that magical light.

The bowl of fruit turned golden, bathed in sunlight.

Light danced in the corners of my kitchen that day, it was brief but glorious, I felt filled with hope.

2011-03-17T22:59:00.003Z

For Japan With Love - a day of silence

Earlier this week I found myself standing quite still in my kitchen, chores forgotten, as I listened to a radio report from Japan. A representative from ShelterBox described arriving in a city and seeing no signs of life, there had been no displaced people sighted along the way. No apparent signs of life, in a city.

A day of blog silence, more information here.

2011-03-16T12:32:00.003Z

Folded and pressed

I cannot claim to love ironing, my iron and I have shared a very chequered history. There have been long periods throughout the last 25 years or so when I have seemingly managed not to iron a single item for months at a time.

My mother did not enjoy ironing and it became my pocket money chore at a very early age, once I left home she got rid of the iron & board altogether and became adept at careful flat drying of items upon the Aga's hotplate lids.

In recent years I have learned to accept that ironing must be done and indeed I even now press bed linen & tea towels. I do not love to do it but I pace myself with a little each day and that way I can just about keep on top of it all.

There is one type of ironing that I rather love though. New fabric must be washed and pressed before use and the sight of a length of newly acquired fabric blowing on the washing line is sure to lift my heart. The rhythmic pressing of that fresh smelling fabric follows and as my iron moves across the meterage I become familiar with the pattern, the handle, the weave, each colour. I make plans for that fabric and feel inspired as I steam it into smooth submission.

And at the end I have the pleasure of folding that fresh, crisp fabric. Corner to corner, end to end. It lines up perfectly and I smile as I gaze at my orderly stack of beauty.

2011-03-09T15:24:00.004Z

Hopelessly helpless

I have been incredibly busy these last few weeks, there have been highs and lows, at times I feel I can conquer all mountains, I am superwoman and at other times I feel like lying down on the ground in a crumpled heap, defeated and deflated.

Such is life.

The highs are all good, work related things. I have been busy with orders, new designs and booking craft fairs, I have felt strong and positive, a sense of achievement.

The lows are all impossibly beyond my control, there are family and legal matters that require attention, things that must follow a course, that are taking time and energy but resolution of one sort or another is in the near horizon at last.

And then the car wouldn't start. I gazed into the depths of the engine and had my own little emotional breakdown, a feeling that the end of the world was nigh, I wept for so much more than a non-starting car.

But I came in, breathed deeply, thanked heaven for telephones and helpful friends to take over the school run. I took out my camera and for a few minutes I focused on the little things, letting the anxieties blur into the background, focusing on tiny piles of calm.

2011-03-03T20:12:00.004Z

and keep smiling

I was really rather pleased with yesterday's freehand sewing adventure and when woken too early this morning by an ageing dog I found my mind quickly abuzz with variations and plans.

Once my caffeine levels were fully restored and my charges had all left safely for the day I entered the sewing room and quickly pushed aside other more pressing, but much less amusing, projects and got to work.

Because it was essential I visit the butcher's shop this very day and it was entirely clear in my mind that this trip might prove quite impossible without my brand new shopping bag dangling oh so delightfully from my shoulder.

A friendly missive upon its front should remind me of my reason for leaving home this cold March day and save me from being distracted from my mission, which, believe it or not, really can happen all too easily. Thankfully the bag was completed and sausages procured, success all round.

There are most certainly more bags in the offing and I hope to have some in my shop as soon as light and wind conditions allow for better photography!

2011-03-02T14:42:00.004Z

Smile

I have decided to begin selling at local craft fairs, the decision both terrifies and thrills me.

After the initial swell of excitement I began to panic, to toss and turn, I need to expand my range, create new stock, my mind went blank, or rather was paralysed in overdrive. Too many decisions.

And then today I took the dogs out, I ran with them, the sun shone and the ideas began to form a line, they ordered themselves and the future was clear. I felt myself smile wide and long. There is still a long way to go but now I have a list.

2011-02-24T13:39:00.005Z

Something you can do in five minutes

Prepare the most excellent bread.

Artisan bread in fact.

Yes really.

I know I am possibly the last blogger on earth to write about this book, ARTISAN BREAD IN 5 MINUTES A DAY: The Discovery That Revolutionizes Home Baking but having just enjoyed this bread for lunch I was suddenly overcome with the need to share the joy.

Place flour, water, yeast and salt into a large container, mix. That's right, mix, not knead. It may even take less than 5 minutes if you are a really fast mixer. Leave to rise, refrigerate (for up to two weeks, but you will have eaten it all long before that). Tear off a portion when needed, dust, shape, leave a short while to prove and bake.

If you keep the dough in your fridge all the time you will never be far away from a rather fabulous loaf of bread and that is the sort of thing that can make one feel quite domestically smug and goddess like. And let me tell you, it really is fabulous, a perfect crisp crust, good open crumb and excellent well developed flavour.

I notice there is a UK version of the book available now too, Five Minute Bread: The revolutionary new baking method: no bread machine, no kneading!.

This is the sort of thing that gets you through half term with your sanity intact.

2011-02-23T17:08:00.003Z

Technical wrestling

Today I have spent rather too long tussling with technology. I have been attempting to set up a Handmade at Poshyarns Facebook page, all this in the same week that I launched myself upon Twitter.

No wonder I feel the urge to lie down in a darkened room.

I sort of wanted to prove that I could do this by myself.

But having spent so long being bamboozled today I realise that this is exactly the sort of thing one keeps a Technical Advisor for, not the only thing of course...

Having finally set up the page I began to investigate how to add a link here on my blog.

But I find myself quite overcome, technically fatigued. I am off to the kitchen, The Technical Advisor will certainly need something sustaining to get him through an evening of advising one so challenged as myself.

So until the Dear Advisor can sort out the appropriate sidebar links just let me tell you that you can read my Tweets over here and follow Handmade at Poshyarns on Facebook . I do hope you can come and say hello, it's all rather baffling and a tad lonely at present.

2011-02-18T18:08:00.005Z

Easily swayed

Sometimes I choose an item of food just because it looks pretty.

I am not too proud to admit that I bought these sardines because I liked the picture on the box.

I know it makes me a bit of a marketing man's dream, some might say it even makes me a bit of a sucker.

It could be said that it makes me shallow. Oh, and I really like the typeface too.

But putting something lovely on the pantry shelf sort of makes my day.

And I always eat the food eventually. The sardines had been there some time. It's a good job tinned food comes with such a long sell by date.

As I wrote this post I had a nagging feeling that I had seen a picture of sardines on another blog at some point. So I did a little brain racking and discovered that I am in Domesticali's most excellent company, twice. It seems the world of sardine packaging offers no end of creative possibilities.