My little Granny

Great Granny Amy (aged 95)

My Granny died on a snowy December day. She was called Amy. At the grand age of ninety nine (almost one hundred) her body had finally got too weary to carry on.

I saw her the week before, she was still of very sound mind and had moved into a nursing home after living independently at home until just a few weeks ago.

We chatted about memories of when I was little. We both remembered me sleeping on a camp bed in her bedroom, we used to chatter until very late, she would fall asleep, it was always her first, often playing a guessing game called 'Animal, Mineral or Vegetable'.

My bed was next to her wonderful foot powered sewing machine. It was not on display, but instead it hung, defying gravity upside down on the underside of its stand. Whenever I saw it appear for use I always thought it was like a magicians trick. Lying in my low bed next to it I could see it in all its highly decorative gilded beauty, it was like someone covered with amazing tattoos or one of those old waltza carriages, my arm would reach out of the covers and spin its handle slowly and quietly while Granny slept beside me.

Her hands had worked hard making clothes, she was a seamstress by trade. I can remember pretty dresses she made me with vintage lace collars, when the dress got to small the collar would come off and go onto the next, and so on.

Now her skinny hands were dry from the heating in the home, I gently rubbed them with her cream, her skin was paper thin and I could see each vein through it. My fingers fit in between her knuckles like deep trenches and her wedding ring, so thin from almost eighty years of wear, spun precariously on her tiny finger. It was touch that wasn't getting dressed, that wasn't being bathed, that wasn't being moved. I couldn't remember the last time I had held her hand, probably thirty years ago as a child, this time it wasn't to keep me but to keep her.

I combed her hair, she said it felt nice.

She was sat in a high back chair, making it almost impossible to cuddle her, which was all I wanted to do. I stooped down over the contraptions, the table laden with sippy cups, medications and an emergency alarm and wrapped my arms around her, she felt so tiny and frail. I stroked her back through her dressing gown "my little Granny" I whispered in her ear, she laughed and said "I know, I've been shrinking for some time". I told her I loved her, again I don't know when I last said that to her, and that she loved me.

As I left I looked back and whilst I hoped to see her again I knew in my heart that was the last time.

Simple Pleasures

Joels help in the garden, "a pile for you Mummy"

In just over a year Joel starts school, he will be amongst the youngest in his year turning four a mere five weeks before term starts. I cant imagine how I'm going to feel when the time comes but right now it feels like a panicky tick tock Countdown clock is starting up inside my head. I'm trying not to get flustered but I want to make sure we do lots of nice things together, we always have as this blog is testament to, but now he is at an age where he will get more from the experiences (and hopefully some memories) than he has in the past.

A big part of this is celebrating the simple pleasures in life; we made a wigwam using canes, string, pegs and a 1960s sheet. He loves it and asked for his picnic lunch to be served in there.

We have been preparing our allotment for the imminent arrival of our runner beans, courgettes and purple broccoli.

We spent quite some time today watching a snail we found whilst weeding slowly emerging from it's shell. It was a beautiful moment and the longest he has ever sat still in the garden.

We are lucky enough to have a post box at toddler height in the wall near our house, as well as being lucky enough to have a toddler with a Royal Mail obsession!

He tries the handle every time

Joel has started to take more command with Myrtle and loves holding her lead. "Heels" he tells her

A year ago in pictures

I decided a few weeks back that it was high time I got around to making our wedding album, given that we sadly live in an era where we no longer automatically print our photos but instead have them on disc, memory sticks, facebook etc this was probably not such an unusually long delay.

I couldn't find an album which was quite right, most were pretty schmaltzy or dull and just didn't fit with the colourful exciting images we had to go inside. So I bought one the right size and covered it with fabric, the same lovely design that our bridesmaids dresses were made of. The remnants I had were funny shapes, due to the dresses having full circle skirts, so I had to join three pieces together, however I really like the effect that gave.

The front and back inside pages were spares so I could glue them down over the fabric edges for a more finished look. I decorated these pages with our save the date stamp, repeating the cover fabrics pink and yellow colour combination.

I chose a traditional style album with tissue interleaves and used black photo corners to mount the pictures. I included our invite designed by artist Jill Wignall, and the beer label and mats designed by Mr B.

I'm really pleased with the finished book, it's a real treasure. It's nice to have a physical album of the day and it's already doing the rounds of our relatives who aren't online.

Dream Kitschen

                         

I've kept these for years, ever since my Granddad died, they have moved house nine times. These samples of Formica worktop had been hanging up in his garage since the 1960s; a proper garage with tools, seedlings and keeping apples wrapped up in brown paper and stacked high in boxes. I remember playing with them as a child during my summer holidays in Wrea Green, my grandparents village; a proper Lancashire village with a dub (duck pond), a cricket team and an annual Field Day (a highlight of my younger years).

I love the way each sample is so delicately thin, like a posh biscuit, and they make a nice clickety clattery noise when you try and pick them all up. Each pattern is very stylish, you can imagine 1960s housewives pouring over them, hankering after just a couple of metres of such a dreamy prep space in their kitchen.

This gold speckled pattern is called Sequin, available in Black, Red (pencilled on the sample are the dimensions required for the Wrea Green Institute bar) and Mushroom. I imagine the sales pitch; Let the glitz and glamour of the ballroom breath elegant rhythm into your veg prep, 'Cha Cha Chop'

The mosaic pattern is called Capri; Echoes of jet bound ventures to holiday islands, transporting you while you task to warm climates and early evening cocktails.

I think I'll keep them forever, just because.

Make do and mend

I bought three pairs of jeans almost two years ago, two skinnys and one straight leg. They are all a great fit but something I do in my everyday life has meant that each pair has got a hole in the left knee. The mystery remains as to why the left knee goes and not the right but the hole is no more as I patched it using some Liberty print canvas.

Here's how I did it....

You will need;
Fabric (has to be fabric of equal thickness to garment or you'll just end up patching the patch)
Threads (one that matches the garment and also one, or more, for the patch-in contrasting or matching colours)
Bondaweb
Card
Pencil
Unpicker
Iron and board
Sewing Machine (optional)

1) Using an unpicker carefully unpick the jeans down the outside edge (that's where there is just single stitching) from five inches above to five inches below the area to be patched. This gives you the ability to work on a sewing machine. If you are happy hand stitching then this step isn't necessary but could still make the job easier.
2) Make a template of your patch shape using card, I chose a circle but traditionally they are square, ensure it is bigger than the hole you are patching. Draw round this template on the paper side of the Bondaweb. Then follow Bondawebs simple instructions on pack to end up with bonded patch.
3) Iron bonded patch onto garment.
4) Carefully run through sewing machine, or hand stitch, over edges of patch (this will ensure it doesn't lift) I chose a zig zag stitch in contrasting colour.
5) Optional- Then either by hand or machine work more stitching onto the patch. This gives decorative effect but also means patch is well secured.
6) Carefully stitch the garment back together (remember to change your thread!)

Back of patching when complete

Front of patching when complete

It seemed wrong to throw them out just because of a little wear and tear, so hey presto one pair of jeans with no draughts! I wonder if the patch will out live the right knee???

The Day Aquatic

This weekend MD, or 'Cuncle' as Joel likes to call him, came to visit. We are experiencing some rather strange Spring weather with snow drops and snow flakes out in equal quantities, bitter winds have made outdoor activities face stingily enduring so indoor fun was called for.
We headed out to Lakes Aquarium, another local attraction which we've never been to. The Aquarium has its own steam railway station and is on the edge of Lake Windermere, we admired the views from the warmth of the upstairs cafe whilst tucking into afternoon tea, yum.
The Aquarium was ace with every type of sea life imaginable, including Otters, baby Crocodiles and Starfish (which wriggle around like worms!) There was lots to look at, or run past in Joels case.

Joel loved it apart from when he got scared of the giant tortoises, he thought they weren't real and then one moved which gave him a start. He even managed to drop some Lego (a police mans torso) in one of the displays so we had to call a man with a big scooping net to come and get it! By the end of our visit Joel was getting pretty tired, we had a brilliant time though and I think this picture says it all.

Scary Beary Museum

Yesterday we had an animal blast. The week had got off to a shaky start when Joel took a tumble on a play ground, climbing as usual, and managed to split his head open. We were playing on our own but two lovely mums dashed over to help us back to the car (it was obvious hospital attention was needed). I'm pretty squeamish but did well to remain vaguely calm and collected. After some crazy driving and even crazier singing (to keep him awake) and a long wait at the hospital our brave little rascal was glued back together again. 'Quiet Activities' were suggested on the head injurys leaflet, not an easy feat with Joel.
Racking my brains for what to do I was chuffed to find that Kendal Museum (just down the road) was offering free entry at the moment so yesterday morning we headed over and met our good pals there. Its a really old style museum, rammed full of lots of weird and wonderful things. It offers, amongst other things, an enormous collection of Taxidermied species, many displayed in antique cases. Its very dimly lit giving it an eery feel, great!

Soon after arriving I could hear Joel (toddlers do leg it off in places like this) shouting "Hedgehog, Hedgehog!"I just thought he'd seen one in a case and carried on looking at stuff when there he appeared carrying a stuffed one! Here he is posing next to it with his "ouchy finger"(prickled)

This moose head was mounted high up above a stairwell so I was unable to photograph with any scale reference but it was massive. Just like the one in Return to Oz.

They had a lot of free childrens activities too, these exploratory boxes were great with fossils, butterflies and even a dragonfly inside.

The John Hamer collection of minerals had a staggering 2000+ examples. This reclusive character spent his time potholing and collecting minerals, the entire collection was catalogued and moved from his house when he passed away. Its great to see someones lifes work giving so much pleasure.

Minerals displayed in a Victorian lamp table 

A hand drawn diary of his finds

Raaaaaah! Downstairs we found this guy, teeth and claws at the ready! Joel posed for a picture with him, just after I snapped this he stepped back onto the bears mount and it rocked forward a few inches over him....

..this would have been the view! No wonder he shrieked and ran to my legs saying "Mummy I scared of the bear!!"

The summer of two and beyond

We haven't had much of  a summer this year, with the wettest August on record, so what sunny days we did have we made the most of them! Joel turned two on the 27th July, a sunny but windy day, we spent the day at the big park in Morecambe with his Gaga (my mum) and then the following day with my dad (who he reminds me of, a lot, both in looks and in his sense of adventure)

Pretty much round about that time he has (almost) dropped his afternoon nap (hence the silence for the last few weeks) and started going to nursery two mornings a week. Both of these developments have led to a very trying couple of months. The first making for impossible times with an over tired toddler (between 3pm and 6pm is now known as Beelzebub time) and the second pushing my patience and then anxiety levels to the max. When you say your child has started nursery people always go "oh that must be nice for you" well in a word No it wasn't!

Watching the farmer take away this years bales

The first six weeks of nursery I spent most of my time at the nursery sat on a tiny plastic chair, amongst the children all making car and choo choo noises. Some of the kids even new my name, anyone would have thought I was a new member of staff, I had to stay so long into the sessions before Joel would let me go (though truth is I resorted to sneaking off as the 'Goodbyes' caused too much anguish) and what I thought would get easier got worse, because he then learnt that I was going! There came a point after a few weeks where I thought, it's too soon for him, I'm going to wait until he's older and re-start him.

Wheel spinning

But that was for me not him, our days had gotten repetitive and dull and he was spending more and more time doing naughty things out of frustration (trashing stuff and having tantrums) plus I've never dealt with conflict or anxiety very well and this had been heightened since having Joel. So we persevered and now he has whole sessions without me.

Re-arranging labels on a display of Succulents at the local Horticultural Society gardens

There have been many tears (both of us) but having observed him through the nursery window (as I'm sure so many 'new to nursery' mums do) he has an amazing time and is enjoying all the learning and interaction with the staff and the other children. The best thing of all is we have fab time together on his non nursery days, it had become over facing having so many full days on my own with such a physically active and knowledge thirsty little man.

Echoes into an abandoned boat house

So now I am starting to thing 'Yes, it is nice that he's at nursery' Joel gets to play without his my watchful eye and I can hopefully start to get 'Me' back, at the very least twice a week!

His first ice cream

54 Memory Lane....gets knocked down

Two months silence, I apologise. I've been without a phone for one month of it (I only use a camera phone and my phone got drowned in the dogs water bowl by Joel) so have some catching up to do but here's a post I started writing about a month ago.

So I got a call from my Dad, he'd been informed that his childhood home (where he lived until he was 22) was being demolished to make way for a multi-story car park for Blackpool Hospital. He wanted to go and see it one last time and wondered if Joel and I would like to come along too. I jumped at the chance to learn a bit more about my family history but we decided we probably stood a better chance of getting on site (the houses were already being taken apart) without an adventurous toddler in tow.

I'd never been sure which house it was, even though it wasn't that far from where I grew up. I'd become more familiar with it through photographs my Dad had lent me and also a notebook my Grandma had written all her decorating inspiration in (that was already a blog in the pipeline, which I will write anyway) when they had first bought the place. We go there just in time as next door was already flattened.

We donned hard hats and high vis jackets and as we walked round the house (stepping over piles of rubble and carpets-perhaps the originals) Dad shared his memories of the place. First of all we were astounded that the original front door had survived the era of UPVC grossness and, despite a change in colour, was still fully functioning. It's a split door and I recognised it from a photo of my dad and his mum looking through it.

This meter cupboard was used to hide my Aunties 'Clucking Hen' (an irritating noisy toy which the whole family had heard enough of on Christmas) however it returned to cluck again when the meter reader called round and my Auntie spotted it! "My hen!"

I recognised the details in the lounge straight away from Grandmas notebook, the window seats and inglenooks were sketched out in there.

Dad and his sister used to see who could jump the furthest down the stairs, eventually getting confident enough to tackle the full run! We have this all to come with daredevil Joel.

If you look closely in this photograph you can just make out a square shape under the wallpaper, this is a wall safe, which was flooded out with a leak, soaking my dads birth certificate (which he still has with it's water damage) and other important documents.

Dads bedroom, at the back of the house. He used to climb out of his window, up a drainpipe, onto a ledge and then up onto the top of the roof and then inch forward to the front of the house. His granddad  once found him out and stood outside shouting up to him "I know your up there, come down"Dad just flattened himself down so he was out of view. It's funny that feeling of being invincible isn't it? Your cover has already been blown but you are convinced that if they can't actually see you then it's alright.

Dads best friend lived next door and they used to have an old army telephone strung between their bedrooms so they could plan their next adventure at night. Their adventures were wild naughty boy ones involving fireworks, air rifles and no fear!

My aunties bedroom dressing table, imagine how many hours she spent as a teen sat practising her make up and hair.

Dad said the room used to be decorated with a pretty paper. Under her window a seat had been built in since he'd lived there, when I looked in between the wooden panels I found where the paper had survived. I love it when papers survive decorating!

The original green bathroom suite was still there along with an incredible ceramic bath tap.

I'm so glad that we managed to get in there before it was demolished, it didn't feel sad either just interesting. I know that the memories my Dad shared will stay in my mind now there is an experience/mental picture to go with them