An Anniversary

Twelve months ago today my father passed away.
Anniversaries are a strange thing, they are more personal than a birthday.
I feel like wedding anniversaries are something for a couple to celebrate.
When it comes to anniversaries of death it's not something you can share, even with family somehow. You're each carrying your own memories and your feelings vary.

Anyway, I want to talk about my Dad.
He wasn't just Dad to me, but his first two children were with his first wife, so I had a different Mum. We all had different relationships with him, but I think that's likely the norm in a family. Each child has different personalities and interactions with parents are bound to vary.

So, my Dad.
I was never in any doubt that he loved me.
There wasn't a moment when I wasn't absolutely sure of that love.
He always had my back. I don't wonder if, even if I was in the wrong, he wouldn't have supported me anyway. It was so nice to know that I could tell him something, and he'd join in telling me what bastards everyone else was. Even if it wasn't true, I knew he'd just take my side, and my goodness you need that in your life sometimes.



My earliest memories are of being collected from my Mum's house on a Friday evening, I'd be wrapped in a blanket and laid in the back seat, then taken to Dad's house for the weekend. He'd take me back to Mum's house on Sunday evening, before heading off to go dancing.
He loved to dance, winning competitions in his youth. He loved the quickstep and my aunt spoke at the funeral of how they wore a hole in their lounge carpet jiving together when their parents went out.

Back in 1998 my Dad had a heart attack, on my birthday, which resulted in a quadruple heart bypass. It was a terrible event that ended up having a really positive effect on his life. He joined the ramblers as a way to exercise and recuperate from the surgery, slowly building up the length of the walks he went on. He did the Three Peaks challenge multiple times and just loved being out walking and he built a wonderful community of friends. It's amazing how a negative can turn into such a positive.
Ten years after that bypass he had a replacement stent and was still going strong, but as the years wore on, he became more frail and unsteady on his feet. He had multiple falls and we decided he should make the move from his lovely flat into a bungalow closer to my home.


My family go away for Christmas every year. We rent a cottage somewhere in England for a week, it works really well because we are live quite far apart and it also means that no-one has to host everyone else for a week. In 2013 we went away for Christmas as usual, staying near Worcester, and during the night, Dad got up to use the bathroom and in his sleepy state, he forgot he wasn't at home and turned left out of his bedroom. At his bungalow, a left turn headed towards the bathroom.
At the cottage a left turn was a steep staircase. A dogleg staircase. Dad hit the bend in the wall with such force he punched a hole in the wall, before falling further and landing at the bottom of the stairs. Mum heard him call out and came to wake me. The bump on his head was huge. I held a towel to his head to stem the bleeding, but I could only cup the bump, it was like holding a lemon in your hand.
I went with him as he was rushed to hospital. I told them to make sure he knew I was there.
Dad always responded better in hosptial if he knew I was there, he and I had done multiple hospital trips already. I sat in the relatives room for what felt like an eternity. Eventually I managed to get an update and they said they'd been struggling with him, I repeated what I'd said on our arrival, just let me see him, he'll be reassured and easier to treat. Just a few seconds I pleaded. They let me in and I saw the complete relief on his face, I told him I'd be there each and every time he needed me and I wasn't going anywhere.

On Christmas Day, I went to visit and he was unresponsive. On that day I thought I was going to lose him. He wasn't responding to pain stimuli and it was terrifying.
I'm sorry about how awful this photo is.

Over the next few days he improved a little, but was clearly still very unwell.
Our week at the cottage over, I had returned home but was driving from home to Worcester regularly to visit.
Then I got word he would need brain surgery and would be moving to Stoke-on-Trent for the specialist surgery. The surgery went well and after a while he was moved to Lincoln, our local hospital.

When he was finally ready for discharge it was decided he would spend some time in a nursing home before returning to his bungalow.
The least said about that place the better, I'd been round to view and thought it was fine.
It wasn't.
I got him home to his bungalow, he had carers visit three times a day and I would go every day. We soon realised though that he simply wasn't managing. After another fall we realised it was time to consider something else. I got him moved into a lovely nursing home and started trying to get him to adjust to this new life.
Life following traumatic brain injuries is not always easy. He was clearly changed. The nursing home would call me, unable to handle him and I'd go to sit with him.
The management changed at the home. The new manager was an evil woman and I soon was forced to find a new home to move him to, and that's where he saw out the rest of his life.
They were great with him, I expected he would pass away before the year was out, but their care was so good I got years extra with him.

On his last admission to hospital I took this photo. Seems a bit random, but bear with me.
On that desk is a pile of paper, it reaches almost to the counter.
That entire pile makes up my Dad's medical records. He had a lot of health problems his entire life. It never stopped him though.

And here he is, the last time I saw him.

This was a little over twelve hours before he passed away.
He'd pushed his oxygen mask up to his forehead so he could eat some dinner. He'd turned to me, grinned and said "do you like my hat?"
I really chuckled.
He also asked me if he had a girlfriend. I'd replied that what he did in his private life was none of my business, knowing full well that he didn't have a girlfriend. He considered it for a moment and said "well, I'm nearly 80 and women are a lot of trouble, so I probably don't need the hassle".
He also pronounced the food was "shit", so he was on form.

I left the hospital feeling upbeat, but that evening I went for dinner with my Mum and Step-dad and Mum asked me how he was. I replied that I didn't know. Despite the fact he'd been chipper and in good humour, I had a weird feeling in my gut that I couldn't and can't explain.
The next morning I got the call that he had passed away.
I am still filled with questions I will never get the answer to.
We had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order in place for Dad and I questioned whether he'd still be here if it wasn't and should I have fought for him to stay.
Did he know he was dying?
Did he ask for me?
Why wasn't I there?
There are more questions that haunt me, and I try and keep them out of my head, but they remain there. Having answers to the questions wouldn't make the thoughts any easier to bear.
Honestly, I think it's probably normal to wonder if you did the best you could do and if you made the right choices, so I try not to let the thoughts upset me.

In my logical mind I know that the DNR was the right thing, Dad had 'multiple co-morbidities', essentially there wasn't one thing that was a threat to his life, he had so many medical complaints that it was almost impossible to say which was the greatest risk.
His heart was iffy, his lungs were iffy, his kidneys were iffy, his brain was iffy. There was a lot of iffy.
The fact he lived as long as he did is testament to his stubborn refusal to give in.
After that horrendous fall do you know how many bones he broke?
None. Not so much as a little toe.
I thought he was invincible.

(As a humorous aside, following the fall, when the paramedics were sliding the scoop under him and joining the two pieces together so they could get him into the ambulance, he suddenly yelled out. I immediately thought he'd broken his hip or pelvis or something. The paramedics asked him where the pain was. To which Dad simply yelled "you've trapped my bloody foot!" Which they had as they were squeezing the two halves of the scoop together. It brought a bit of humour to a dreadful moment. Well, Dad didn't find it that funny!)

So, that's the end of his life. But what about earlier?

What about the time I drew him a picture, and in order to surprise him with it, I hid it under his duvet. As an adult I realise that hiding the drawing pins to hang the picture was not a good idea and Dad's resulting anger fully understandable. Oops.

Prior to his move to a nursing home I used to take Dad shopping once a week, on one occasion in winter, we were driving the back road and on a sharp bend the ice got the better of me. I immediately felt Jeff (my car) go into a skid and without thinking, I just handled it. I did have enough time for my brain to wonder if I was going to flip the car as off to the side of the single track road was a steep slope and I knew if I lost control, we'd be rollercoastering our way to the bottom. In a matter of a second or two, I got control back of the car and breathed a sigh of relief.
Dad had been silent the whole time and then simply said "Well done" and complimented me on steering into the skid. He hadn't been afraid. He'd just had confidence in my driving.

Many years ago he went with the woman he was in a relationship with, to visit her wheelchair-bound son. When they arrived, they discovered the body of her son, who had been murdered. He never spoke about it and I wonder if it haunted him and I wonder if I should have asked him about it.
More unanswered questions.

My nickname for him was Trouble. I'd say "Hello Trouble" and he'd say "I'm no trouble!"
And then, whenever I got a call that he was in an ambulance on his way to hospital, I'd arrive and when I said hello he'd say "I'm sorry for being a trouble" and in turn I'd say "you're never any trouble to me".
After he passed, I had some of his ashes placed in a memorial heart. It's wooden and it slides open, inside is a little glass vial with the ashes. The top of the heart is engraved. It says "Dad, never any trouble".


He gave me a lot of love and a lot of time, we had holidays in Cornwall that I loved. I still think about a visit to a monkey sanctuary and how much I loved that visit.
He ironed my little finger once. That's what happens when you put your finger on an ironing board whilst your Dad is ironing. It was not a smart move.
He didn't really like tattoos but never really questioned my choice to get tattooed.
I'd turn up to visit with a new shade of scarlet hair and he'd say "you've dyed your hair!" and I'd reply, "nah, I was born this way". "You bloody weren't" he'd also respond.
He had a big smile and he always showed it to me.
He'd protect me with everything he had and I could never do wrong in his eyes. You take that feeling for granted when you have it and you don't realise the security it gives you every day.

I miss him all the time and I berate myself for not taking the opportunity to hear more of his stories and spend time with him whilst he was here. That's life, we know what we've lost when it is gone.
Whenever I left from visiting him I'd call out "Love you" and he'd respond with "Love you", so those are both my last words to him and his last words to me.
That couldn't be more perfect.
 
Love you.

All By Myself

I live on my own, well alone with a cat, but anyway...
I genuinely enjoy living on my own (with a cat).
Have you seen that quote...the one that about anyone wanting to be with you isn't competing with anyone else, but with your comfort zone? I totally get that.
Actually, I'm going to have to see if I can find the actual thing, because I suspect I butchered it somewhat....

*after googling*

There it is. See how much more eloquently put that was. Well done Mr Jones. I commend you.

Anyway, I had a point that I was getting to, sort of.

I was saying to a friend that not only do I chatter away to myself when I'm home alone, I also make myself laugh on a daily basis. I find myself hilarious.
Not that I'm actually funny, I just amuse myself easily.

And therein lies a tale.

The other night I go to curl up on the sofa and tuck my feet up under me as I do pretty much every day. Except my right knee has decided it doesn't want to. In fact it explains its decision by causing a pain similar to how I imagine it would be to become impaled, through the knee on something both sharp and hot. It was that kind of pain that almost feels like you've been winded.
I attempt the move again and it repeats its decision with the same astonishing pain.
When the knee is straight zero pain, no hint that the knee is in a bad mood.
 
So I stop bending it.

Because life is about making smart choices.

I retire to bed, I keep my grumpy knee unbent.

The next morning, I sit on the sofa and decide to test bend the knee.
It is less grumpy than the night before, but still uncomfortable.
I rub my knee and say to myself "gosh my knee is sore.....it's agoknee".
Ha! Agony...agoknee...see what I did there?
Yeah, I realise this is not really funny.
I appreciate it's a terrible pun.
But oh. my. god. I laughed.
Then the fact that I was laughing made me laugh.
My ribs hurt.
There were tears.
Every time I tried to stop I laughed again.
Typing this I'm having a chuckle to myself. 
Honestly, I actually just snorted.

I guess part of my comfort zone is being able to laugh at my own jokes. Isn't there another quote somewhere about laughing at your own jokes not being cool? Probably. Well screw them, I'm laughing over here and I like it.


On an unrelated/related note...

I used to work for BT (British Telecom) I was a Diagnostic Testing Officer. So fancy.
Well, I answered the phone and diagnosed faults on phone lines. Not so fancy.
During training the trainer was explaining the difference between faults and said you would know a specific fault wouldn't be caused by overhead lines rubbing in trees because trees don't make calls.
I leant into my friend and said "unless it's a trunk call".
Again, it wasn't really funny, but you know how bad jokes are just hilarious? We lost it, we tried SO hard to keep it together, but failed.
We were told off and told to leave the room.
I'd never been chastised like that as an adult before, which just made it more hilarious to me.

Telling that story just reminds me of another one....
Maybe I'll save the story of the shadow for another time.

Oh the suspense!

Craft Room Tour

I've loved crafting for a long time, probably most of my life, in that time I've tried a wealth of different crafts including: salt dough sculpture, jewellery making, dried flower arrangements, cardmaking, sewing, embroidery, cross stitch, crochet and willow weaving.

One of the things I love most about where I currently live is my workroom/craft room/studio/call it what you will.

I really like watching YouTube tours of craft rooms and looking at other blogs with photo tours, so I thought I'd share my own room.

I realise this is probably completely boring to a lot of people but I love it!

So here goes:

This is taken standing in the doorway of my room, looking towards my two desks. I have two desks for two reasons. One is that I like to have friends come and craft with me, I find it really stokes the crafty fire to see someone else create in ways I wouldn't have thought of. The second reason is that I can have two projects on the go at once, I can leave my sewing machine ready to go and work on something else on the other desk if I need a change.
I have a daylight bulb in the main ceiling light and I also have two lamps with daylight bulbs in, it makes such a huge difference to crafting at any time of day.
(And that's Kini demonstrating how photogenic she is.)

Taken from slightly further back, you see the Martin Luther King Jr poster which has the whole of the I Have A Dream speech written at the bottom. I bought it decades ago, as a teenager on holiday in France and it was one of my most beloved possessions.
At the end of the room is a small 6-drawered storage unit, with a much loved painting above it. It was painted by a lodger we had when I was a child and I always loved it.

Inside the room, not visible from the door, is more storage, everything is laid out so that I can spin round in my chair and access anything, hopefully keeping everything within arms reach.

Yet more shelves behind my desks!

The word for this room is shelves I think. These are to the left of the first table - which I got when I worked in a dental surgery, it has holes in it that were made by some sort of equipment and I think it was used for making dentures or something! Random, but it's just a really nice table, with mostly nice legs - one got destroyed by cats.
Anyway...The bottom shelf holds the cotton I use most often when sewing, and the bobbins It also holds my other sewing bits and bobs; pins, needles, my rotary cutter. The second shelf holds two bins, one for refuse, one for recycling. Next to those is a box with all my chamois cloths I keep for stamp cleaning, they're dried out so they don't stink up the box! On top of that is my collection of Nuvo drops and finally on that shelf a frame that is made into a pin-cushion.
The shelf above holds boxes of bias binding, in multiple colours, that I use when I'm making bunting and also ribbons that I use for the same purpose.
On the final shelf in this photo is a collection of spare adhesives, my birthday index box (where I have a list of upcoming birthdays, by month, I store cards for people in here so I know which I have still to make).

Above the previous shelves are two more, which store more excess adhesives and items I don't reach for very often, including dressmaking patterns and Christmas items.

On the first table I have a folded blanket, in the left of the photo - this is where Kini usually sleeps when I'm crafting in here. She likes a window view!
I have two lazy susans on the rest of the table, the bottom one is currently very tidy and almost empty! The top one sits atop a small antique lap tray, meant to be used for breakfasts in bed. I bought it at auction, at the time I had no idea why I even bid for it, but it works perfectly in here, adding to the desk space. The top lazy susan holds most of my tools, scissors, rulers, pallette knives etc. Also on the photo is my roll of post-it tape, my bluetooth speaker - you gotta have music, and an L-shaped lego build, which I can use for stamping wooden stamps, to ensure accurate stamping.

On top of/between the two desks I store my two paper trimmers - my Fiskars and my Tim Holtz, and don't ask me to choose a favourite, because it's impossible I tell you, impossible!
Next to them is a pot of tools, some scissors, pokey tools, craft knives, white gel pens, etc. There's also a bottle of alcohol for alchol ink techniques. The front two boxes hold adhesives, spray bottles, Distress Resist spray and full sticky post-it notes.

On the second desk I have another lap tray, but this time from IKEA. I love that there's room for storage underneath but I still have space above.
Under the lap tray are my ProMarkers, sorted into colour families. Also another two bins, one for rubbish and one for recycling. There's also a bowl with one of my stamp-cleaning chamois cloths. I usually work on my well-loved cutting mat, I have one on both desks.

A friend gave me these when the office she works in was throwing them out, quite honestly I wish I'd got more from her, it pains me that the rest went in the bin. I use them to store my cardstock, by colour, in rainbow order of course, then vellum and specialised cardstock: watercolour, Neenah Solar White, Bristol Smooth etc.
My printer and light box sit on top.
 

These shelves are on the wall above the second desk. 12x12 papers that I use for photo backgrounds hang underneath, baskets of cards I've finished, or half-finished sit on the bottom shelf, along with products I want to use or need putting away. The rest of the shelves contain things I don't use very often, along with items I use for bunting making - particularly Christmas bunting.

A friend made this picture, it's needle-felted, she had a wonderful exhibition and I snuck in and bought it, I knew she intended to give it to me, but I wanted to buy it. The only problem is - I hung it too damn high on the wall - that's a job for 2019, move it down!
It hangs to the right of the shelves above the desk and I like to sit back and look at it any time I can.
 

The large desktop sits on two Alex drawers from IKEA. I've seen these featured in so many different craftrooms and I know why, they're just a great size and you can fit so much in.
You might have gathered by now that I like antique things and auctions, but try as I might, I just couldn't find anything that fit the bill the way these drawers did. The only drawback (ha!) is that they don't pull out all the way, but that's a minor incovenience.
The top drawer holds my most-used inks as well as the washi tapes I use to mark storage pockets, triangular bead trays and spares. You can't see it in the photo, but there are actually four more trays within the drawer. It's easy to lift out the front trays to access the ones further back, but I mainly store things I don't need frequent access to back there. 

Drawer 2. This drawer holds my Lawn Fawn inks, there are couple in this photo without labels - they're the newest release and I haven't got round to their labels yet, but they're stored in alphabetical order and I have added them to my swatch sheet so it's easy to grab them if I want them.
At the back of the drawer are pigment inks, and my Delicata inks. These are inks I don't reach for regularly so are a little more out of reach.

Drawer 3. This holds my blending tools - the foams are stored separately, alcohol inks with their foams and blending solution, enamel dots & adhesive gems are in here too. At the back are my embossing pastes. My stencil brushes are in here, as is my pot of Distress Glaze and shimmer sprays.

Drawer 4. This is the embossing drawer.The left hand side holds all the individual pots of embossing powders, with a tray of stamping blocks on top of it, the right hand side has larger containers of the embossing powders I use most - white, clear and liquid platinum. Also in this drawer is a container of Melt-It powder and several other containers - and I forget what's in them!

 Drawer 5. The bottom drawer holds three baskets, I can't access the third one without removing one of the front ones - and it currently sits empty. It's nice to have room to grow or to move things around. The other two baskets hold pre-cut fun foam - to give even dimension when cardmaking and my collections of foils.

 

Now to the right hand set of drawers.

Drawer 1. Actually, before we get to the drawer, on top of the desk is a black glass mat. I don't have one of the Tim Holtz glass mats, but this one works in a similar way, great for ink blending or protecting the surface when I'm doing watercolours. Next to it is a diary. To be honest I use the diary on my phone more than anything but I do like to see things written down and I have twice the chance of remembering what I'm supposed to be doing.
In the drawer itself, the front is filled with cardstock scraps. I keep them here so that I can use them for small die-cuts, or for stamping sentiments on. It helps to keep them separate so I can just reach for a small piece instead of cutting up a big piece.
Extra, unused diecuts are stored in here too - as are offcuts of fun foam. There are more trays further back, but they are currently mostly empty - for now!

Drawer 2. This is my collection of Waffle Flower inks, my small collection of Memento Inks, some full-size Altenew inks and an Archival ink. My Altenew ink cubes are stored with my Distress Inks as they fit perfectly into the tins.
My spare black inks are here too - and more empty trays!

Drawer 3. This is the colouring drawer. The reindeer tin is full of Brusho pots, my collection of gelatos are in here, as are my Altenew watercolours, the green case holds most of my pencil crayons. There's Odourless Mineral Spirits in a little Kilner jar, there's also masking fluid. My Gansai Tambi Starry Night watercolours are also here, liquid watercolours too, along with a pencil case filled with Sharpies.

 Drawer 4. Home to my beloved Zig markers. Also home to my freezer paper, some kitchen roll (for clean-up and wiping off waterbrushes), some parchment paper (for use with foiling and a laminator) and some Press n Seal that I got for Christmas - it's impossible to find in the UK so I was delighted to open it on Christmas morning!
The yellow squares off to the right, against the wall, that look like puzzle pieces are what I use for blocking finished crochet projects. 

Drawer 5. In all honesty, whilst it doesn't look it, this drawer is empty, it has three baskets in it, the same as the bottom drawer the other side. The back basket is actually empty and the front two have things in that really just need properly putting away.
You might have spotted stickers on each of the drawer fronts. These have two purposes. They really do!
First they're cute and they please my eye.
Second if I'm crafting with a friend and they ask where something is I can say "It's in the Unicorn drawer" or "It's in the Cat drawer" and so on. 

Underneath my desk are again, two bins, one rubbish and one recycling. Do I have too many bins? My shredder is there too and in the silver trolley is extra cardstock and other cardstock offcuts.

This little shelf holds my spare card blanks. It also holds pre-cut glitter cardstock that I use for making cardstock bunting.

At the end of the room is this sweet little six-drawered unit. It's cute but it's a nightmare getting those drawers back in when you pull them out!
On top of the unit is another four-drawered unit, this has glitter, gilding flakes, components for shaker cards and other interactive cards.
There's also some sellotape, brushes for perfect pearls, pipettes for liquid watercolours amongst other things.
In the drawers are microfibre cloths, spare envelopes, coffee filters for embossing powders and more odds & ends.
There are hooks on the side of the unit, on the right hang my bunting templates and my bunting embroidery floss.
On the left hang my swatch sheets.

So, these are my swatch sheets. Every one of my inks is swatched out, as are Nuvo drops, embossing powders (which I swatched on both black and white cardstock as they can look very different), watercolours, alcohol inks, shimmer sprays (which I swatched onto black, white and kraft cardstock). I also have a swatch of each of my black inks, and within each swatch square I noted the purpose of each ink, which work with watercolour, which with alcohol markers, which stamp on acetate etc. Whilst I generally know all of that, it's nice to have a handy reminder when I'm having a brain fart, and it's useful to friends who come and craft with me.
 

Behind the desk is this teak room divider that I got for a steal at an antiques centre. The blokes stood around and told me it wouldn't fit in my car. I was adamant that it would, they stood around sucking their teeth and finally agreed to try. It fit like a dream and they stood around looking like their world had been turned upside down. Absolutely a personal highlight in my life.
Anyway, smugness aside, all my wrapping paper sits on the top of the unit. The white squares next to that are from a dolls house shop that closed down, so they're adorably decorated inside, but they also make excellent storage spaces.
The shelf below holds a box of Christmas patterned papers, some specialty handmade papers and the filing trays hold folders which store things like acetate. Two of the folders have storage pockets for my stamps and dies so they're ready to be put away when I get new ones.
My laminator is stored inside the sliding doors along with my flower presses.

This is my collection of stamps and dies. They are separated into different categories so that I have an idea of where to look for specific products I want to use. I also use either white or kraft cardstock inside each pocket. White cardstock denotes that it is solely stamps inside, kraft denotes that it's dies or stamps and dies. Additionally, you may be able to see that there are strips of washi tape on the top right of some of the pockets, each of those also indicates what's inside. I have a key to what the tapes mean on the IKEA lap tray.
Essentially I mark which are solely sentiments, which are Christmas, which are nesting dies, which are background dies and which are alphabetical/numerical stamps. It helps to know at a glance that I'm looking in the right place.
Yes, I'm anal about being organised.

Inside the base of the teak unit are my Gansai Tambi watercolours and 12x12 papers and cardstock. One folder contains stencils and also blending foams stored in coin pockets labelled with each ink. Other folders contain stickers and sentiments, another folder contains the beginning of an index of my stamp collection.
On the other side of the unit is a concertina file which holds cellophane envelopes for cards that I make, there's also a box with extra foam tape and spray bottles.

 

Hanging on the side of the teak unit are labels I attach to bunting I make.
My washi tape hangs on the side, on a big loop of thick wire which makes it easy to see and access.

Next to the teak unit is a little white shelving unit. Starting at the top is a small two drawered unit that holds some of my ribbon, wound onto cardstock, on top of that are my embossing folders, with my embossing mat. Next to that is a box with some of my Christmas stamps & dies and next to that is my MISTI stamping tool and my Tim Holtz stamping platform.
On the shelf below is my Big Shot and on the same shelf is my alphabet punch board from We R Memory Keepers - which I use primarily for bunting.
The bottom shelf holds all my patterned papers.
My splatter cubby sits between the teak unit and the white shelves. All hail the splatter cubby that saves the room from splatter covering every surface!

Above the shelves on the floor is a white board and above that is another set of shelves, it holds embroidery floss, items for bunting, sequins and allsorts of odds and ends.

The last set of shelving in the room is more behind the first table than the desk, on top are two boxes which hold pre-scored card blanks in a variety of sizes, ready to go when I'm crafting. Below that are my Distress Inks and Distress Oxides. The tins hold all the mini cubes of Distress Inks and all the Distress Oxides are stored next to them, finally my small collection of full size pads of Distress Inks.
The next shelf holds a concertina file of coloured card scraps, a box of perfect pearls and a box of twine.
The bottom shelf is things that have been abandoned to be honest! Including two trays which are used for heating a fondue set!

Finally, the last set of shelves are over the door of the room. They hold my stock of embroidery hoops, my extra stock of bias binding and all sorts of odds and ends in chocolate tins.

Phew, that's a long post.
At this point I should admit that the whole of my fabric stock is in another room, along with my huge stock of felt that I use for bunting.

New Year New Me

Ha!
There won't be any new me. Although isn't there something that says all of your cells renew so that every few months you're essentially a new person?
Hmm, that seems weird.
Perhaps if you shaved your head that could be true?
I have no idea where I'm going with this.

Anyway, welcome to 2019.
It's not that I have any grand plans for 2019, but I feel like I'd like to do better. 
My Dad passed away in May of 2018 and that really made the year a write-off for me.


But that's a post for another day.

I'd really like to get more done, to be more efficient.
I don't want to make resolutions, they seem to me like you're setting yourself up for failure, perhaps instead I wake up in the morning and resolve to do the best I can do that day.
For me, and I'm sure for many people, the best you can do is variable.
Some days you're full of energy and motivation and ready to take on the world.
Other days you're tired and low and getting dressed might be the best you can do.

I think the important thing is to adapt to how you feel on each of the 365 days in the non-leap years.  Frankly, every time we have day 366 we should all get to have a massage. 
A conga massage! No, that would be weird. I retract that idea immediately.

Back on track.
I like to write the things that are in my brain, I'd like to track the things I make when I've been hunkered down in my craftroom/studio/sewing room, call it what you will. I'd like to do better at remembering the good times I have.
I would like to get back to blogging.
Also, I had three accidents in just one week over Christmas and goodness knows that shit is funny. Totally hit myself in the finger with a cleaver at one point....the finger still exists with surprisingly minor damage. In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to express my thanks and gratitude to my fingernail for stopping the advance of aforementioned cleaver.

Long story short, I'm going to try my best to be my best without giving myself a hard time on my worst days.

Counting Injuries

I'm a little accident prone.
Okay, I'm really very accident prone. I admit it.
However, it's now January 5th and I've gone this many days without injury.
Sort of.
Today I dropped something as I was getting vegetables out of the fridge for tea, so I bent down to pick it up.
At this point I should say that my fridge is stacked on top of my freezer, so my fridge sits higher than you might imagine.
So, I bend down to pick up the cheese I dropped and as I do so, unbeknownst to me, the fridge door starts to swing closed.
Yes, I did headbut the door with the back of my head as I stood up.
Yes it hurt like a sonofabitch.
No, there wasn't blood - which I'm counting as a win.

However, 2018 injury count is now: 1.

Riding Bearback

I've always had a lot of wacky dreams, I don't always remember them, which is pretty disappointing!

Last night was quite spectacular in the world of dreams.
I dreamt I was seated upon my sofa, engrossed in a tv show, when I finally looked up from the tv, I noticed there had been an accident in the road immediately outside my window.
Large crowds had gathered around a lady that had been hit by a car. She was wearing a pleated navy skirt and was surrounded by people trying to help, whilst they waited for an ambulance. There was a girl who was laid on the verge sobbing, with a group of friends talking to her. For some reason I went to ask if she wanted to come inside but her friends shooed me away.

I hate it when dreams don't have an end, they just dissolve away into another dream, I have no idea what happened to the lady in the navy pleated skirt.

But as one dream dissolves away, another one slips in to replace it.

I looked out the window again, an animal had been hit by a car.
But not just any animal.
It seemed like it was a polar bear.
A polar bear was laying in the road.
But wait, it wasn't just a polar bear, there was a man there too, he was curled up like the little spoon to the bear big spoon.
It appeared that the two were unconscious.
The man started to stir, then the bear, and suddenly it wasn't a polar bear, it was a big brown bear. A huge brown bear.
I asked if they were okay and I was far, far too close to such a huge bear.
They awoke fully, the bear clambered from its prone position to being back on all four paws. Suddenly the man, wearing a wild blue puffy suit with gold trim, was seated atop the bear. He bid me farewell and rode atop the bear as it bounded off quickly across the fields.

What the flim-flam were those dreams all about?
Good grief, whatever my subconscious brain was trying to figure out, I hope it managed it.

Logophile

My phone did that little noise it does when something Facebook related has occurred.

I looked at my phone, I have been tagged in a post...I must investigate further!


I digitally strolled my way over to Facebook to see more and am greeted with the following words: "Fun when you show people a very specific word definition and one of the associated images is a Facebook friend". 
I was the Facebook friend in question!

So, out there, there exists a single word that will lead you to a photograph of my good self.

I took a moment, I thought, I turned a few words over in my mind, when suddenly I had a brainwave, I tapped the letters on my keyboard and began my google search.

The results appeared and I guffawed. I snorted with laughter. My ribs hurt, my tummy hurt, so much laughter, so much.
I have no idea why I found it so utterly hilarious, I still do.
The idea that a single word will make my youthful face appear in a google search is just hilarious to me.

It's such a great word too.
Not your average run of the mill word, oh no, this is an unusual word, not one to be found in the vocabulary of many.
What's the word?
What could it BE?
Well, that'd be telling wouldn't it!