On your marks, get set....GROW!

This is of course an update on the runner beans!

Well, a poor turn out for the race - twelve bean seeds planted, sweating away in my mini windowsill propagators and only two shoots burst forth!  On further investigation discovered that the remaining ten were mouldering and maggoty beneath the surface!  Grim!

But the two brave sports are pushing on through, moving onwards and upwards:

Next on the starting line are broad beans and an attempt at indoor strawberry growing from seed!  The propagators are humming away again on the sunny south-facing windowsill!

Adventures in Windowsill Farming!

Here at the workshop we dream of self-sufficiency, homesteading and The Good Life.  But the reality is a few windowsills and a front porch!

We have not been deterred!  With a bit of imagination and experimentation, pots, compost and a handful of seeds, we are setting out on the adventure that is windowsill farming!

The first shoot of success is traditional windowsill herb growing, which has resulted in this lovely crop of oregano; a much used herb in the workshop:

And here is a medley of home grown produce:

Cress - (top left) just beginning to shoot up in a saucer, cress is always a very heartening seed to sow, with almost immediate growth and hence cheer!
Sage - (top right) a little straggly, I have a second pot of much stronger plants on a windowsill that receives less direct sunlight
Oregano - (bottom left)
Beans - (bottom right in the mini propagator) of the runner variety, yet to poke their heads out into the world.  More news to follow, just hoping that the age of the seeds won't stall growth too much!

Papercraft Post - Homemade Envelopes

Now I'm often raiding the farthest corners of my craft cupboard, hoping to find a long lost envelope somewhere in Narnia!  But it is so easy to make your own! 

I once had a plastic shop-bought template for making them...that too has been swallowed up in the snowy regions of the cupboard...but who needs shop bought, when by simply deconstructing an existing envelope, you can create your own card template...

...and then the world is your oyster!  Any paper, old magazine pages, old wrapping paper can become the most cheery envelope for that personal postal delivery!

Start with a card template and pages from an old magazine...

...add a little bit of basic origami magic...

...and you have conjured a beautiful array of unique envelopes!

Next to create my own labels to write the address on... 

...oh and careful positioning of the template is vital I discovered; one of my envelopes has a lovely close-up of a tubby bird tummy...while the head has disappeared over the back!

May is Here!

Pinch, punch, first day of the month and no returns, white rabbit!  There, all bases covered as we welcome in the 1st of May!

And what does this new month also mean?  It means I have completed National Poetry Writing Month... yes I have indeed written a poem every day for 30 days... and I didn't miss one!  No really, honest truth!  Yes it was tough going some mornings and yes some are better than others, but I feel a definite sense of achievement.

In fact, I would describe writing a poem a day as the equivalent of a mental jog, starting the day with a more alert brain and the knowledge that writing has already been done and the rest of the day is yet to come!  (Yes, many of the poems were heavily rhyming, it's a habit hard to shake, particularly when you usually prefer to write songs to poetry).

Enough white rabbiting on... these poems will not go to waste, I am making my first ever poetry chapbook, in which I can proudly present my April achievements to any poor friend or family member who will put up with them!

Back to the workshop for me, I think it's time for some crafting!

Day Thirty: 30th April 2014

Play me a tune sweet piper,
In perfect time you keep,
Haunting homespun melody,
Lull me now to sleep.

For I have journeyed piper,
Far across the seas,
So play the old home-fire song,
That called me on the breeze.

The hearthside beckons piper,
Ne'er more to roam,
Come sit and play till break of day,
Sweet ode unto my home.

Day Twenty-Nine: 29th April 2014

Make a house a home,
Line the walls with books,
The sills with pots and plants,
Pans and onions hang from hooks.

And take out the blankets,
Unfurl them in the air,
Dispel the dust and cobwebs,
Hand-sewn and patched with care.

With the whirl of a blanket,
Create a nook and nest,
A child's cosy den,
To hide from all the rest.

And when it comes to bedtime,
The day is at a close,
Snuggle in your blanket,
Pulled right up to your nose.

Day Twenty-Eight: 28th April 2014

Stabled within your close corner stall,
Do you whisper and whinny?
Toss your soft downy white mane,
Blink your long felty lashes,
Flex your slender floral neck.

The day has been harsh to you.
Caught up and cantered in a moment,
Abandoned the next.
Trusty steed.
Ever there to answer your small rider's call.

I once rode you.
You have weathered well.

So twitch your cotton ears,
Dawn approaches
And a slumbering child stirs.

Day Twenty-Seven: 27th April 2014

Hear No Evil
He is at my ear,
Attentive,
Protective,
The guardian of every timbre
That comes to me on a zephyr.
Listen.

See No Evil
Fleeting glimpse of silver,
Flickers through my hair,
He is close at hand,
Watchful,
Vigilant.
See.

Speak No Evil
He whispers in my ear
Words of confidence and wisdom,
Be strong of heart,
Lips part,
A sound is spoke.
Uttered.

Day Twenty-Six: 26th April 2014

What can I give you my own little one?
I give you the world!
Shining upon your small sleeping face,
Lulling you into the land of dreams,
Your own spinning world of
Moon and stars;
Celestial globe.
I gave you the world,
But you have a
Universe.

Day Twenty-Five: 25th April 2014

Where do all the flowers grow?
Ours climb up the wall.
Hand-designed from paper plates,
Miraculously tall.

And what spy I upon these blooms?
Exotic bug or two?
Well they be covered in glitter
And copious amounts of glue.

And what tangled vines do I see,
Cascade and trail and spool?
Why look close and you shall see
Green paper taped to wool!

And how grow these fine flora fair,
Grow so strong and tall?
Ah! Spy the frame of bamboo cane,
Begone you plain magnolia wall!

Day Twenty-Four: 24th April 2014

I dreamt I was Jo
And began to sew,
Craft, create and knit,
I wished I was there in another time,
Living the life that was writ.

Never have felt quite right in this world,
It moves too fast, unravelled, unfurled,
Been told I was born out of time and so
I drifted away and dreamt I was Jo.

I fashioned some slippers, a woollen bonnet,
Placed much meaning and love upon it.
Not at all practical,
Scarcely factual,
I dreamt a world and began to sew,
You were ever so real to me Jo.

(And still are so)

Day Twenty-Three: 23rd April 2014

Quiet and inconspicuous,
You stand resolute by my bed,
Bearing the lamp, numerous books
And yesterday's bedtime milk dregs.

But you have a secret you hold deep within,
A long written story to bear,
Made by a great grandfather's hand,
Crafted with love and care.

And Lo! What secrets you hide,
Within your dark wooden shell,
For you are no bedside table
My Friend,
What you are is a secret
That I
Shall not
Tell.

Day Twenty-Two: 22nd April 2014

I grew a tree in my lounge.

It took root one day

And I didn't stop it.

The branches stretched out in yearning

For the homemade pies

Cooling on the table,

Bending low to inhale the

Scent of cinnamon and spices.

We festooned the tree,

Hung about with a garland of

Popped corn.

The fragrance pervaded the air.

We grew a tree in our lounge.

We kept it.

Day Twenty-One: 21st April 2014

Yarns and
Spun fables,
Fates knit together,
Once full of holes,
Now darned, stitched and whole.

Day Twenty: 20th April 2014

You open the door
And push your small hand through the folds of material,
No hesitation,
All fascination,
With undoubting confidence.

You wait for the snowflakes to fall
Upon your skin.

They do not come.

The warmth of your room
Pervades every corner.
You are still in the
Here and now.

But dress yourself in a
Kaleidoscope of colour,
Pattern and texture,
Create your homemade world,
Let your imagination fly free.

Your life is a storybook.

Day Nineteen: 19th April 2014

The Ink shimmers in the well,
Words jostle with excitement and eagerness,
Pressing to break through the surface tension
And leap unbidden onto the page.
The Nib pauses over the
Exuberant liquid,
Anxious, intrepid, wondering
If it can tame the wayward molecules
And bend their purpose to its will.
The Nib has an idea, a notion
That must be heard.
A word
That has recently joined with another word
And is threatening to make a sentence.
Trembling, it dips low and
With a gulp, plunges into the
Dark waters.
Inky consonants cling like
Barnacles to its tarnished surface.
The Nib wrenches free once more,
Tapping against the side of the well,
Shaking off the less determined droplet.

Have you heard the scratch of a dip pen
As the nib scrawls across the paper?

That is the scratch and screech of
Determination.
Valiant Nib,
Fighting the forces of the Ink.
Lone Nib voice
Against the dark masses.
Hear the Ink protest and moan,
See the Nib press on,
Writing valiantly with its
Steely heart.
Victorious scribe.
Staunching the flow with a
Triumphant
Full stop.

Day Eighteen: 18th April 2014

Pluck at my strings,
Hear me sing!
A wanton melody
To warm your heart,
Honest yet discordant
Where the eagerness of a moment
Does not translate
Into melodious tones.
And you huff and puff over me.
But I am patient with you.
I know you.
Your melody resonates deep inside my belly.
So pluck at my strings
With a light heart,
Pluck at my strings
And breathe,
Pluck at my strings
Let me sing!

Day Seventeen: 17th April 2014

A Bear built us a house.
We were small.
The Bear caught us up in a
Big bear embrace.
We giggled and struggled
To breath in the face of
So earnest a Love.
Then he crafted a house,
With limitless care
From the bottom of his dear bear heart,
A minuscule home for a dot of a doll
And his bear cubs danced with delight.
The Bear was unassuming
About his skills.
It happened every day didn't it?
Dear Bear.
If only you knew,
When I think of that house
It's an abstract thought,
An elusive solidity
That slides and transfigures;
The material thing
Immaterial.
Like a conjuror's trick;
Gone.
And there is just you.
Dear Bear.

Day Sixteen: 16th April 2014

Glorious fronds of colour
Falter and flutter in the breeze like pennants,
Nodding to their lady's favour.
They sing to my heart in a
Myriad of hues,
Soft velveteen downs,
Sweet flora and fauna,
Satin fine,
Mingle and entwine.

What joy might the day hold
In a ribbon of pure
Violet, royal blue, meadow green!
So tie up my hair my love in a
Myriad of hues,
Soft velveteen downs,
Sweet flora and fauna,
Satin fine,
Mingle and entwine.

Day Fifteen: 15th April 2014

I stir up a potion to mend the soul.
Lift down the jars,
Wield ladle and knife,
Bring forth the
Dark Powders.
Cut and slice with the sharpest blade.
A measure of sweetness
To let the liquor
Flow with Delight.
A pinch of the exotic elsewhere.
Now fire up the cauldron!
Let the white waters bubble and swirl,
Heated by undying flames.
I pour Light into the Dark,
Air scented with Magyk.
Calm descends as the
Warm liquid passes my
Lips.
And the heat of the
Potion
Takes hold.

Day Fourteen: 14th April 2014

I lie here
But I am not alone.
Many worlds surround me,
I hear their voices whispering in the darkness,
Straining against their binding,
Jostling and trembling
To be released
And feel the cool air wander through their pages.
Each tempts me with a reason
To choose
But which will win my heart?
Which will I pick up,
Caress
And not put back
But take that first, tentative
Step within
And walk on, far into the
Depths
Of another world, another life,
So far removed from this, that I am
Intoxicated,
Set adrift
On the far flung seas,
Safe
In my paper-bound boat,
The typeset dancing
As foam on the waves,
Leading me to a new chapter,
A new moon, before
The tide turns
And I am washed up on
The shores of my reality,
Soaked to my skin, drenched
In the prose
Of a world just as
Real,
As the fiction I see around me
That most call
The here and now.

Day Thirteen: 13th April 2014

I build my world out of pea sticks,
Constructed just as I please,
Rising in unfathomable shapes,
Unafraid of the wolfy breeze.

I bed the pea sticks in the soil,
Tie them tight with twine,
Careless of the curious glance,
Knowing this world is mine.

I planted shoots by my pea sticks,
Tuck them deep in the soil,
With water and care they flourish and grow,
Climbing high, plucky and loyal.

Now sweet leaves wind up the pea sticks,
And I wait for a bud and a flower,
Colour and scent for my pea stick world,
My homemade pea stick bower.

Day Twelve: 12th April 2014

Why have one skirt when you can wear two?
Or perhaps even three or four!
Pair up a knee-length or shin-length affair
With a skirt that sweeps down to the floor.

Fill your life with pattern from head to toe,
Florals and stripes, mix and match!
Pull out the clothes you would pension off,
Pair your best with that skirt with a patch!

A rainbow of colours in every hue,
Be bold, be carefree, be bright,
Pay no heed to the fashions today,
If it's you, it'll always be right.

Day Eleven: 11th April 2014

The story begins with a book.

Leather
Bound.
Clasp and catch whispering:
Open Me
Release the latch,
Can you hear?
Lift the cover,
Whispered words, can you hear?
Rough textured paper,
Pitted and pored from which
A single word arises.
The pages murmur and mutter.
Voices of an Idea
Mingle in a cacophony of
Harmony and discord;
Fanciful notions,
Sketches,
A tune ~
Songs of the day,
Songs of the moon.
Words for my love,
Words deep with life,
My whirlwind of words
Caught in a moment,
Caught up and clasped in my
Leather
Bound
Book.

Day Ten: 10th April 2014

Grains and seeds, beans and peas,
Run to the store cupboard fast as you please,
Herbs and spices, mustard and oil,
Watch the cauldron spit and boil,
Suet and flour, sage and thyme,
A pinch of reason, a morsel of rhyme,
Stir up the pot, bubble and brew,
A bowl for me, a bowl for you ~
A silver spoonful of store cupboard stew.

Day Nine: 9th April 2014

You wrote these words!
Held pen in hand,
Thought of me ~
Ink flowed!
Trivial to some ~
Trivial to you?
But in that briefest
Flicker of a moment in time,
As the nib looped to form
The letters of my name,
You thought
Only of
Me.

Day Eight: 8th April 2014

Light permeates and is held
Tight within the warm honeyed depths
Of each perfect bead.
Thread an evocation of a dream-like past -
Time locked.
Held fast.
I loop the string about my throat,
Sunlight on heavy eyelids,
A needle threads,
Time turned,
Visitation to a bygone world.
Linen of sage,
Sunflower stitched,
Abundant rippling red hair,
I am there.
Artists, poets, craftsmen, muse,
For the briefest moment
Myself I lose
In heady possibility
Of artisan worlds -
The flick of a brush,
The dip of a pen,
A yearning that I might be then.
Amber of a honeyed soul,
Thread about my present whole,
Cast your spell
That I might feel
The tug of a stitch spooled from history's reel.
Sunlight falls on heavy lids.
For a moment
I am gone.

Day Seven: 7th April 2014

New Year begins with Spring
And the hope a pale petal may bring.
Blossom and bud,
Soil and seed,
First warm zephyr from Winter freed,
Primrose yellow, primrose bright,
Bathe my world in fresh Spring light!

Kitchen table, heart of my home,
Dusted with flour, speckled with loam.
Blossom and bud,
Soil and seed,
First warm zephyr from Winter freed,
Primrose yellow, primrose bright,
Bathe my home in fresh Spring light!

Pot up a Season in earthenware,
The warm breath of hope pervades the air.
Blossom and bud,
Soil and seed,
First warm zephyr from Winter freed,
Primrose yellow, primrose bright,
Bathe my soul in fresh Spring light!

Day Six: 6th April 2014

I keep my loves in a locket.
Protected and preserved,
Nestled close to my heart,
Contained within my force field of care.
Shielded from the reality of life outside.

I hold out my hand my love,
Come fly into my locket,
Feel my world surround you
Wrapped in wings of silver.
Star-bright talisman of love.

I keep my loves in a locket.
Charms for the living,
Memories for the world beyond,
Suspended on the eternal silver chain.
Held to my heart.

Day Five: 5th April 2014

Old holey, moley, moth-eaten rag,
Burrowed beneath my pillows.
Tatty ward 'gainst fears and tears,
Token of fatherly care.

Old holey, moley, moth-eaten rag,
Squirreled beneath my pillows,
Childhood to my adult years,
Keepsake of constant care.

Day Four: 4th April 2014

It lies where left,
Forlorn and bereft,
Without its partner in tow.
Scuffed and scarred,
Careless discard,
Marked by the slips and slows.

Hop, skip and jump,
Bruises and bumps,
Dancing, dallying days.

Alone and flushed,
In satin pink blush,
But oh! What a day it has been!
Mud, muck and mirth,
Stone, grass and earth,
The adventures its sole has seen!

Hop, skip and jump,
Bruises and bumps,
Dancing, dallying days.

Come morning time,
With its partner in crime,
Off out with abandon, carefree!
Relish each moment,
Free from opponent,
Take scrapes and scuffs happily.

Hop, skip and jump,
Bruises and bumps,
In a chancing, marrying,
Soleful tarrying,
Dancing, dallying daze!

Day Three: 3rd April 2014

The silken grain of Pandora's box

Casts a siren's call to crave,

The rich auburn tone of the clasped casing beckons;

As tales foretold,

Great beauty behold!

Come ochre, come lilac, come sage, come violet, 

Come fuchsia, magenta and dandelion gold.

Behold, behold, a rainbow of joy!

Conjured cacophony of colour.

Every hue, every shade, encased in wood;

Be brilliant, be bold,

Great beauty behold!

Come ochre, come lilac, come sage, come violet, 

Come fuchsia, magenta and dandelion gold.

The heart-swelling happiness of a child,

As I shadow and shade, blend and blur.

What promise awaits in gradations of colour;

Creation unfold,

Great beauty behold!

Come ochre, come lilac, come sage, come violet, 

Come fuchsia, magenta and dandelion gold.

Day Two: 2nd April 2014

Oh, for a mixing bowl!
That I might scry my fortune
In billowing clouds of egg white wisp,
Triumphs and tears
Churned up, whirled and whisked.

Cherished vessel of infinite comfort,
Cradling cares,
Folding fortune,
Conjoining mirth and melancholy
In its demi-orb depths.
Oh!
For my mixing bowl of fate.

National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)

Sitting feet up on the quilt-draped sofa in the workshop, about to bravely begin a new challenge... for April 1st sees the start of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo: http://www.napowrimo.net/)... when bold scribes pledge to write a poem a day for the entire month of April!

Here I begin my adventure in poetry...


Day One: 1st April 2014

Tell me your world in all its minutiae,
Pencil, ribbon and book,
A newborn adventure in every touch,
Cosseted corner and nook.
A collection of tales and velveteen lore,
Magpie, raven and rook,
Fragments of fate in a hand-stitched band,
Memories never forsook.

Tell me your world in all its beauty,
Pencil, ribbon and book,
Heartfelt stories caress and clutch,
Cossetted corner and nook.
Mercury's mirror each may store,
Magpie, raven and rook,
Come, let me take you by the hand,
Memories never forsook.