Don't you just hate the web sometimes? I get so inspired by all the lovely craft projects that everyone seems to do, but I *just don't have time for them*!!! How do these people manage to knit endless baby jackets and work out patterns for Jack Sparrow socks? Or take hundreds of gorgeous pictures of all the beautiful tulips they have time to grow in their garden? Or bake bread and cupcakes and make vats of butter icing?
I've been driven to start a list of Projects - To Do When I Have Time. I must say I love lists. There's a magical quality about a list which makes things happen. For instance, on the new list of projects is 'dye own wool', which means take some Aragon Yarns wool in the natural colour and hand dye it using some MX Procion dyes I bought off the web, ooo, about a year ago. And guess what? Last weekend I did it! And it took my list about three weeks to make it happen. Yay for the list. Another thing is sock knitting, and I'm over half way through my first sock at the moment, including stopping and ripping it to shreds when I realised the gauge was all wrong, and starting again. Note to self - always, always do a proper tension square, no matter how boring it is.
So what else is there to do?
1. Bake bread (I found a great recipe for twice risen bread on someone’s blog)
2. Double knitting (since I saw a pattern online for a blanket supposedly knitted my Mrs F D Roosevelt)
3. Scrapbooking (OK, this was a real live book that has inspired me again, but there’s lots online for this too)
4. Lace Knitting (too many online patterns to count, but I don’t want to make a granny style triangular shawl, so still looking for the ideal one)
5. Order some cards from moo.com (which will involve trailing through all my pics for ones I like best). Moo seems to be everywhere at the moment – including with the lady with the tulips.
6. Design more patterns – including a lot more felted items, as our wool seems to felt like a dream.
So, I challenge you guys to write a list and see what happens. Leave it lying somewhere you will see it every day. Let me know if it works for you too. Good luck!
(And yes, before you say it, if I didn't spend so long reading other people's blogs, I'd have time for my own projects. What do you think I do at work all day?)
Monday, April 21, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
House Doctoring
Colour is a wonderful thing. I heard that some institutions paint their walls pale green to keep the inmates calm. What, therefore, do dark red walls do for one's mental state? Well, having recently redecorated our hall to something calm and restful, I can tell you that dark red is oppressive and crossmaking. Flawless fawn, by comparison, is uplifting and relaxing.
It does, however, show up how filthy our carpets are, so in a rare show of organisational talent, two days after completing the painting, we booked a nice Geordie man to come in and professionally clean them. He really is a worker of miracles.
It does, however, show up how filthy our carpets are, so in a rare show of organisational talent, two days after completing the painting, we booked a nice Geordie man to come in and professionally clean them. He really is a worker of miracles.
And while we were at it, we got that kitchen cabinet up that I bought in January 2007. Finally!
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
February 29th
February 29th came and went uneventfully. The Man had no qualms about spending the evening with me, having dinner together alone in the house. I offered him several get-out clauses - a work colleague had invited him on an overnight fishing trip for example, so they could both keep out of harm's way. But he quite cheerfully said he was coming to see me.
So did I miss a trick here, or does he just know me well enough to be sure that I wouldn't do anything as daring / rash / modern feminist as getting down on one knee myself? Was he not quite sure and just testing me? Or would he not actually have minded if I'd proposed?
It was tempting. Veeeery tempting!! I've never been as content and happy, as various people have observed in me, nor felt as supported and valued. And loved, in an understated yet sure way. But in the end I'm an old fashioned girl and I want the man to propose to me. There were dozens of column inches devoted to the 'should you shouldn't you' argument in the paper on the day, and one of the most interesting comments was about the power play. It said something along the lines that if men are not the ones to propose they will always feel that they are not steering the relationship and therefore they will become resentful. Another article said: 'Research shows that it is crucial that a man makes a “positive decision” to marry rather than be dragooned into matrimony for the relationship to be a success.'
My first instinct was - yep, I can see that. My second was Hang on! as my feminist conditioning kicked in. Are men really going to conform to stereotypes and become grumpy if they consider themselves not the dominant partner? Will they convince themselves they're henpecked if they were not the ones to do the proposing?
I have to say I squashed the internal bra-less feminist. She really needs to get off her soap-box and take a more balanced and realistic view sometimes. (And I like having doors opened for me.) But some more interesting arguments arose from this: Is having a dominant partner in a marriage usual, good or bad? Or how do couples mould the marriage, formed at the request of the man, into a partnership of equals? (And therefore why are men bothered who asks?) Why are men still usually the ones to pop the question? I'm going to answer that one: women are still old fashioned traditionalists at heart. Wear it, droopy boobs.
All this 'Oh, the manly man should do it' does not preclude us girlies putting his knackers in a vice until he asks though, now does it ladies?
So did I miss a trick here, or does he just know me well enough to be sure that I wouldn't do anything as daring / rash / modern feminist as getting down on one knee myself? Was he not quite sure and just testing me? Or would he not actually have minded if I'd proposed?
It was tempting. Veeeery tempting!! I've never been as content and happy, as various people have observed in me, nor felt as supported and valued. And loved, in an understated yet sure way. But in the end I'm an old fashioned girl and I want the man to propose to me. There were dozens of column inches devoted to the 'should you shouldn't you' argument in the paper on the day, and one of the most interesting comments was about the power play. It said something along the lines that if men are not the ones to propose they will always feel that they are not steering the relationship and therefore they will become resentful. Another article said: 'Research shows that it is crucial that a man makes a “positive decision” to marry rather than be dragooned into matrimony for the relationship to be a success.'
My first instinct was - yep, I can see that. My second was Hang on! as my feminist conditioning kicked in. Are men really going to conform to stereotypes and become grumpy if they consider themselves not the dominant partner? Will they convince themselves they're henpecked if they were not the ones to do the proposing?
I have to say I squashed the internal bra-less feminist. She really needs to get off her soap-box and take a more balanced and realistic view sometimes. (And I like having doors opened for me.) But some more interesting arguments arose from this: Is having a dominant partner in a marriage usual, good or bad? Or how do couples mould the marriage, formed at the request of the man, into a partnership of equals? (And therefore why are men bothered who asks?) Why are men still usually the ones to pop the question? I'm going to answer that one: women are still old fashioned traditionalists at heart. Wear it, droopy boobs.
All this 'Oh, the manly man should do it' does not preclude us girlies putting his knackers in a vice until he asks though, now does it ladies?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Spooky
I picked up a free magazine at Sainsbury's a few days ago, because it was about houses, and The Man and I are househunting at the moment. The first paragraph of one of the opening articles was so spot on, I could have written it myself:
I am the sort of person who likes to get on with things - no dilly-dallying or fannying about on the fence for me. Almost without realising it, I usually manage to end up in control of most situations - apart from those involving The Boyfriend, who is very much in possession of a mind of his own and will therefore not be controlled by me, or anyone else for that matter.
So, you can imagine that househunting becomes rather more difficult than it may otherwise be, and it's never all that at the best of times.
It's a new experience for me, coming up against someone just as stubborn as me. We don't argue, but sometimes we just don't agree about stuff. Like whether to hire a DJ from Moss Bros for a 'black tie optional' affair. (I say yes, definitely, with a proper tie-up bow tie. He'd rather just wear a suit.) But rather more importantly, about which house to buy. I want in town, near the station. Period features, perhaps a little garden. He wants to be out of town to avoid the traffic, maybe some modern purpose build with laminate flooring. A few weeks back he said that he thought that I was more stubborn than he is, and therefore you would assume that would mean that I'd finally manage to win every argument. I think that his estimation may have to be revised...
Although, trembling on the brink of just giving up on the DJ argument, I am feeling a curious sense of lightness at just letting someone else get on and take the decisions. I can understand why some wives just go along with whatever their husbands like. Hopefully this affliction won't spill over onto the house discussions though or we'll end up living in a modern beige and glass flat in East Grinstead....
I am the sort of person who likes to get on with things - no dilly-dallying or fannying about on the fence for me. Almost without realising it, I usually manage to end up in control of most situations - apart from those involving The Boyfriend, who is very much in possession of a mind of his own and will therefore not be controlled by me, or anyone else for that matter.
So, you can imagine that househunting becomes rather more difficult than it may otherwise be, and it's never all that at the best of times.
It's a new experience for me, coming up against someone just as stubborn as me. We don't argue, but sometimes we just don't agree about stuff. Like whether to hire a DJ from Moss Bros for a 'black tie optional' affair. (I say yes, definitely, with a proper tie-up bow tie. He'd rather just wear a suit.) But rather more importantly, about which house to buy. I want in town, near the station. Period features, perhaps a little garden. He wants to be out of town to avoid the traffic, maybe some modern purpose build with laminate flooring.
Although, trembling on the brink of just giving up on the DJ argument, I am feeling a curious sense of lightness at just letting someone else get on and take the decisions. I can understand why some wives just go along with whatever their husbands like. Hopefully this affliction won't spill over onto the house discussions though or we'll end up living in a modern beige and glass flat in East Grinstead....
Friday, February 08, 2008
Thoughts
Thoughts for the day:
I can't bear commuting any more. I *just* *can't* *bear* it.
When I'm old I want to be part of one of those couples that still love each other enough to walk down the street hand in hand.
On other news, I got to see my cervix on the big screen the other day. Which was rather surreal and mildly unsettling. I was called back with a borderline smear (apparently one in ten are) for a further check, and the nurse asked if I wanted to see what they were looking at. I said I did, and she casually flipped on the remote and there it was on the telly, all pink and squidgy looking. When she poked it with a cotton bud I realised how small it is (only about three times the width of the bud), and makes you realise how much it has to stretch for a baby to come through. Ouchee, with knobs on. Trouble is this image is now branded on my brain. I mean, in some ways it's kinda nice to finally see the bits that for years various nurses have had a look at while taking smear tests. In other ways, it would have been nice to finally say hi in slightly less tense circumstances.
On a more fun note, pole dancing classes have started again. It's about a year since the last course, and I'd forgotten how much it hurts! Pole burn in very delicate places, let me tell you, is not glamourous. But it's still a good laugh and a challenge in strength and coordination. And lovely to catch up with some pole pals again. All I need to do now is find the arnica cream....
I can't bear commuting any more. I *just* *can't* *bear* it.
When I'm old I want to be part of one of those couples that still love each other enough to walk down the street hand in hand.
On other news, I got to see my cervix on the big screen the other day. Which was rather surreal and mildly unsettling. I was called back with a borderline smear (apparently one in ten are) for a further check, and the nurse asked if I wanted to see what they were looking at. I said I did, and she casually flipped on the remote and there it was on the telly, all pink and squidgy looking. When she poked it with a cotton bud I realised how small it is (only about three times the width of the bud), and makes you realise how much it has to stretch for a baby to come through. Ouchee, with knobs on. Trouble is this image is now branded on my brain. I mean, in some ways it's kinda nice to finally see the bits that for years various nurses have had a look at while taking smear tests. In other ways, it would have been nice to finally say hi in slightly less tense circumstances.
On a more fun note, pole dancing classes have started again. It's about a year since the last course, and I'd forgotten how much it hurts! Pole burn in very delicate places, let me tell you, is not glamourous. But it's still a good laugh and a challenge in strength and coordination. And lovely to catch up with some pole pals again. All I need to do now is find the arnica cream....
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
What do you do when you want to do nothing?
It's is *such* a drag coming back to work. Having some time off is always a dangerous thing, and even though I've not been away on a hot sunny island, I've still spent some fun time at home with family and friends, really appreciating the town I live in (T Wells it lovely). Coming back to work in London is painful. Reading a novel set in the south of France while commuting to said painful work was probably not the best choice. All I want to do is potter in a garden and drink local wine and eat local cheese. Grrr.
Add to that the fact that my Esteemed Flatmate has quit work for three months to do all the things she wants to do but never has time for, viz:
1) write (book / radio play / short stories)
2) walk long distance paths around the UK
3) go on a National Trust working holiday
4) Play Zelda on Nintendo DS.
Well, you can see why coming in to work may be quite difficult at the moment!
Apart from that, all is good. Christmas was lovely, my man wants me to move in with him in the summer, my nephew has stopped screaming blue murder and is actually becoming quite cute, the boiler hasn't broken for a while (touch wood), the days are getting longer, I've caught up with quite a few friends recently, and Amazon has just sent me another parcel.
On the Men's Pants front, I am still searching. I was in Hoopers with my man just after xmas and caught sight of some Calvin Klein pants boxes, and I could not stifle a giggle. I'm sorry. They just look so ridiculous, all posing and rippling and thrusting. I prefer men in natural macho poses ie. throwing hay bales about or chopping logs. You know, perhaps if they changed the theme of pants pictures and did them in a natural setting like most ladies' clothing is, it might improve things. So, man in bathroom. Man washing up. (In pants? It's a stretch, but possible.) Man getting dressed (as long as socks go on later). Man drinking coffee and looking pensively/sternly out of the window. Man offering girlfriend flowers. Or maybe just lots of pants pegged out on the washing line. Look, no bulge!!
Add to that the fact that my Esteemed Flatmate has quit work for three months to do all the things she wants to do but never has time for, viz:
1) write (book / radio play / short stories)
2) walk long distance paths around the UK
3) go on a National Trust working holiday
4) Play Zelda on Nintendo DS.
Well, you can see why coming in to work may be quite difficult at the moment!
Apart from that, all is good. Christmas was lovely, my man wants me to move in with him in the summer, my nephew has stopped screaming blue murder and is actually becoming quite cute, the boiler hasn't broken for a while (touch wood), the days are getting longer, I've caught up with quite a few friends recently, and Amazon has just sent me another parcel.
On the Men's Pants front, I am still searching. I was in Hoopers with my man just after xmas and caught sight of some Calvin Klein pants boxes, and I could not stifle a giggle. I'm sorry. They just look so ridiculous, all posing and rippling and thrusting. I prefer men in natural macho poses ie. throwing hay bales about or chopping logs. You know, perhaps if they changed the theme of pants pictures and did them in a natural setting like most ladies' clothing is, it might improve things. So, man in bathroom. Man washing up. (In pants? It's a stretch, but possible.) Man getting dressed (as long as socks go on later). Man drinking coffee and looking pensively/sternly out of the window. Man offering girlfriend flowers. Or maybe just lots of pants pegged out on the washing line. Look, no bulge!!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Relief
I'm reading a book at the moment which is making me want to cry with relief. Books are magical - some can be fusty and dusty and you never quite connect, some are like those magic books in Dungeons and Dragons which you open and beams of light shine forth, and ideas and knowledge rain down on you.
This book is called What do I do when I want to do Everything? and it talks about people who really can't just settle down to do one thing, but are enthralled about learning and doing everything. The author Barbara Sher calls these people Scanners, and the more I read the more I think That's me! And it's such a relief to know that I'm not just lazy and unable to finish things, or unable to find a career that I want to do until I retire because I lack passion. It's just because I want to learn about everything, and once I've learnt one thing to a reasonable level, or planned and implemented a project, then that's enough for me, and I want something new to do.
How many people do you know that's always starting something new? That flits between jobs and never settles? That has dozens of unfinished projects littering the house? And how many of these people feel guilty about that? I know I used to. But in the past couple of years I've actually felt good about that, it makes me feel accomplished and rounded as a person that I shoot, I knit, I poledance, and I've set up a small business. OK, I do none of these things to an exemplary level, but I do them all pretty well. I love to learn, I love to facilitate, I love to know that nothing is impossible. And when I'm doing these things I am the happiest person I know.
What do you guys think?
This book is called What do I do when I want to do Everything? and it talks about people who really can't just settle down to do one thing, but are enthralled about learning and doing everything. The author Barbara Sher calls these people Scanners, and the more I read the more I think That's me! And it's such a relief to know that I'm not just lazy and unable to finish things, or unable to find a career that I want to do until I retire because I lack passion. It's just because I want to learn about everything, and once I've learnt one thing to a reasonable level, or planned and implemented a project, then that's enough for me, and I want something new to do.
How many people do you know that's always starting something new? That flits between jobs and never settles? That has dozens of unfinished projects littering the house? And how many of these people feel guilty about that? I know I used to. But in the past couple of years I've actually felt good about that, it makes me feel accomplished and rounded as a person that I shoot, I knit, I poledance, and I've set up a small business. OK, I do none of these things to an exemplary level, but I do them all pretty well. I love to learn, I love to facilitate, I love to know that nothing is impossible. And when I'm doing these things I am the happiest person I know.
What do you guys think?
Monday, November 05, 2007
Football
I had to go to the Arsenal vs Man U match with work. Anyone who knows me also knows I can't stand football. I'd rather stick forks in my hand than watch a game. So going to the temple of men who run around, swear, and fall over at the slightest tap - well, frankly, you can keep it.
So the actual match was OK. The food was excellent. And here are three amusing things from the day:
1. The crowd. As someone goes in for a strike they all take a gasp, and stand up. As the player misses, they sigh and groan and sit down. Forty thousand people doing the same thing made it seem like a giant crowd creature breathing in and breathing out.
2. Sagna's ridiculous haircut. It looks like a rooster and flicks into his face when he takes a header.
3. Considering how much Wayne Rooney does actually look like Shrek. (Although even I could admit he is a little bit of a football wizard.)
But the most exciting thing was getting Shayne Ritchie's autograph and getting called darlin' twice by him in one sentence. *:)
So the actual match was OK. The food was excellent. And here are three amusing things from the day:
1. The crowd. As someone goes in for a strike they all take a gasp, and stand up. As the player misses, they sigh and groan and sit down. Forty thousand people doing the same thing made it seem like a giant crowd creature breathing in and breathing out.
2. Sagna's ridiculous haircut. It looks like a rooster and flicks into his face when he takes a header.
3. Considering how much Wayne Rooney does actually look like Shrek. (Although even I could admit he is a little bit of a football wizard.)
But the most exciting thing was getting Shayne Ritchie's autograph and getting called darlin' twice by him in one sentence. *:)
Friday, October 26, 2007
Glorious
Something startling happened last night. I was at the station, late, hungry, and *I did not go and buy a Burger King*. I went into M&S and got a healthy looking sandwich. What??? Has turning 30 finally caught up with me? It was most unnerving. I also bought a bag of salad because we needed it for home and *I nearly opened that too*. Huh?
Anyway, on less inane matters, the burlesque workshop nobly led by Miss Glory Pearl last weekend went very well. I think the girls were a little apprehensive, as only Clare and I had ever done any stripping before (and that was only a couple of 15mins sessions at the end of our pole classes in the spring), so they were rather quiet to start with. But a few rehearsals of removing undergarments and ending up in nipple tassles and bowler hats soon wore down the embarrassment and we all started to get into things. We learnt the most delicious way to remove long evening gloves (to be repeated in the bedroom only!) and also how to twirl said tassels. There is nothing more ridiculous than four girls standing in a row in stockings and suspenders, watching their bouncing boobs with grins of glee.
We were discussing about stripping, pole dancing, lap dancing, and other darker sides of using one's femininity after the class, while sipping glasses of pink champagne. One of the ladies said that a few years ago she wouldn't have touched a class like we'd just done with a bargepole as she was a subscriber to the 'stripping takes advantage of women' school of thought. I'm not sure exactly what her thoughts are now, but it was something along the lines of exploring her feminine side more, and feeling more liberated to be herself. And showing off the amazing corset she got in the states. *;) I find stripping, particularly burlesque stripping, quite empowering (men go all wobbly when you tell them about it), as well as being confidence boosting - you have to appreciate your body to get it out in public, even a little bit, and there was not a murmer of 'oo, your boobs are bigger than mine!' or anything of the sort on the day, but just mutual appreciation. Confidence is by far the sexiest thing a woman can wear.
Well, confidence, and perhaps this corset.
Anyway, on less inane matters, the burlesque workshop nobly led by Miss Glory Pearl last weekend went very well. I think the girls were a little apprehensive, as only Clare and I had ever done any stripping before (and that was only a couple of 15mins sessions at the end of our pole classes in the spring), so they were rather quiet to start with. But a few rehearsals of removing undergarments and ending up in nipple tassles and bowler hats soon wore down the embarrassment and we all started to get into things. We learnt the most delicious way to remove long evening gloves (to be repeated in the bedroom only!) and also how to twirl said tassels. There is nothing more ridiculous than four girls standing in a row in stockings and suspenders, watching their bouncing boobs with grins of glee.
We were discussing about stripping, pole dancing, lap dancing, and other darker sides of using one's femininity after the class, while sipping glasses of pink champagne. One of the ladies said that a few years ago she wouldn't have touched a class like we'd just done with a bargepole as she was a subscriber to the 'stripping takes advantage of women' school of thought. I'm not sure exactly what her thoughts are now, but it was something along the lines of exploring her feminine side more, and feeling more liberated to be herself. And showing off the amazing corset she got in the states. *;) I find stripping, particularly burlesque stripping, quite empowering (men go all wobbly when you tell them about it), as well as being confidence boosting - you have to appreciate your body to get it out in public, even a little bit, and there was not a murmer of 'oo, your boobs are bigger than mine!' or anything of the sort on the day, but just mutual appreciation. Confidence is by far the sexiest thing a woman can wear.
Well, confidence, and perhaps this corset.
*corset from www.fairygothmother.co.uk
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Big Stix
Quote du jour, discussing new size 50 Speed Stix:
I want knitting needles that double as vibrators. And light up. ... Now those, I'd buy.
The Knitting Curmudgeon pulls no punches. Quite right. There's enough tat coming out in the knitting world for unsuspecting newbies. Someone needs to say something!
Aragon Yarns had a stand at the Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace and it went really well. We had loads of interest and hopefully it will keep snowballing. Also several requests from wholesalers to stock it! Yay!
Just off to tango now. We're trying a new place out just off St Martin's Lane. Glide glide, flick flick. Should be fun!
I want knitting needles that double as vibrators. And light up. ... Now those, I'd buy.
The Knitting Curmudgeon pulls no punches. Quite right. There's enough tat coming out in the knitting world for unsuspecting newbies. Someone needs to say something!
Aragon Yarns had a stand at the Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace and it went really well. We had loads of interest and hopefully it will keep snowballing. Also several requests from wholesalers to stock it! Yay!
Just off to tango now. We're trying a new place out just off St Martin's Lane. Glide glide, flick flick. Should be fun!
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Men's pants - update
Clare has found a link to the following website which sells interesting men's pants:
www.asdrumark.co.uk
Please, gentle reader, be sitting down and not too close to the screen when you view. (My first reaction was a loud Argh!! followed by Eww!!)
Good luck!
And many thanks to B T Bear for linking.
www.asdrumark.co.uk
Please, gentle reader, be sitting down and not too close to the screen when you view. (My first reaction was a loud Argh!! followed by Eww!!)
Good luck!
And many thanks to B T Bear for linking.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Men's Pants
What can be done about men's pants? I find them indescribably dull. The best you're going to get are jersey shorts with stuff written around the waistband. Ladies, in comparison, have a chocolate box of choice: lace, silk, satin, velvet, ribbons, ruffles, pin tucks and polka-dots, embroidery, sequins and a rainbow of colours. And that's just the knickers - what about all the bras (push-up, plunge, half cup) and bewildering arrays of corsetry?
Seriously though, what can you do with men's pants to make them more fun and sexy without also making them look camp and/or Village People bondage? Any sort of embellishment bar a brand label (scratchy)? Leather, rivets? No. Prints? I think not - may well cause sniggers when trousers are removed. (Any men out there with cartoon characters on their boxers, please ceremonially burn them now.) Obviously all the frills and furbelows listed above are out. So what, what, what?
Another problem with pants is that the area of the body they cover, unlike the female form, is not the most aesthetically pleasing. Men's pecs and shoulders - Mmm. Men's bottoms, often hairy and pale. What can be done to enhance?
Perhaps we can borrow from ladies' corsets and look at some interesting tailoring, with some seamage which follows the contours to refine, slim and enperken. Or enperten, depending on the view. *:)
What about the tease, a vital part of ladies' ware? Is there a way of getting that 'look but don't touch' into men's grundies? Perhaps the tease won't work with men, they're not usually known for being coy. We should be looking for something more butch - 'come and get it, laydees' pants.
Another big problem with all this is men themselves. They like to wear their pants for comfort. Not for them enduring being poked by underwires, scratched by lace or flossed all day by a thong. Would sexy pants with enperkening tailoring actually get worn? Something is telling me not.
Please, leave comments and suggestions. I lay down the challenge. There must be something out there for our poor men!
Seriously though, what can you do with men's pants to make them more fun and sexy without also making them look camp and/or Village People bondage? Any sort of embellishment bar a brand label (scratchy)? Leather, rivets? No. Prints? I think not - may well cause sniggers when trousers are removed. (Any men out there with cartoon characters on their boxers, please ceremonially burn them now.) Obviously all the frills and furbelows listed above are out. So what, what, what?
Another problem with pants is that the area of the body they cover, unlike the female form, is not the most aesthetically pleasing. Men's pecs and shoulders - Mmm. Men's bottoms, often hairy and pale. What can be done to enhance?
Perhaps we can borrow from ladies' corsets and look at some interesting tailoring, with some seamage which follows the contours to refine, slim and enperken. Or enperten, depending on the view. *:)
What about the tease, a vital part of ladies' ware? Is there a way of getting that 'look but don't touch' into men's grundies? Perhaps the tease won't work with men, they're not usually known for being coy. We should be looking for something more butch - 'come and get it, laydees' pants.
Another big problem with all this is men themselves. They like to wear their pants for comfort. Not for them enduring being poked by underwires, scratched by lace or flossed all day by a thong. Would sexy pants with enperkening tailoring actually get worn? Something is telling me not.
Please, leave comments and suggestions. I lay down the challenge. There must be something out there for our poor men!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Smoke, fire and roses
We have had skate for supper. To get rid of the fish smell Clare suggests burning some incense. Our fire alarm is set to Sensitive And Then Some. I foresee some Bells and people running up and down the stairwell again...
We have closed the door to the hall and opened the windows. It looks like a smoky bordello in here. Clare drifts through the haze on the other side of the room. We need some high heels and feather boas. Fancy a good time, sir?*;)
So anyway, I have reached a career impasse. I need a change. IT is just dull and stressful, which is not a good combination. So, I could:
1. Look at getting into IT sales. This will use my IT experience but also mean that I could earn some proper money and not have to work in the same office Every Day. Argh.
2. Look at resurrecting my psychology degree. I'm quite interested in training as a life coach at the moment.
3. Find a job that pays the bills in T Wells and devote the time saved from commuting to doing something less boring instead. Like sleeping in and being home in time for Neighbours.
4. Go on the dole.
I should also be devoting a lot more time and energy to the wool business, as that's currently languishing for wont of effort. We have a couple of shows coming up and it's going to be a last minute scramble as usual. I have made the following resolutions in the past week:
1. Stop any unnecessary spending
2. Carry a notebook at all times to write things in like Wool - To Dos and ideas and 3BTs.
I can't believe that I still have an overdraft. I mean, I'm 30 years old, have a reasonable job, don't go out boozing every night, nor do I have a Jimmy Choo habit, and yet there it still is, nasty minus numbers. I have about three days every month when it's in the black, then the mortgage goes out, the few hundred goes out to my monthly pocket money allowance, the cheque goes out to the parents as repayment for the house deposit, and suddenly it's all well back in the red. Well, enough. Perhaps it's my stars - apparantly Saturn is somewhere to do with responsibilities at the moment. Huh. Perhaps I am just growing up finally. I'll be telling everyone to make do and mend soon, and darning socks.
On a brighter note, my man met me at the station on Friday armed with flowers. Well, actually, he had to chase me up the hill because when I get off the train I'm on a mission to get home, man. But I am hugely smug that I have such a wonderful man (and flowers). They do exist! (Wonderful men. We knew flowers exist.) There is still a little part of me that's questioning if it will all last, he's surely going to let on that in fact he spends 5 nights a week in the pub scratching his arse and farting like the rest of them, but we are ignoring that evil little pipsqueak voice at the moment. Get back in your box.
We have closed the door to the hall and opened the windows. It looks like a smoky bordello in here. Clare drifts through the haze on the other side of the room. We need some high heels and feather boas. Fancy a good time, sir?*;)
So anyway, I have reached a career impasse. I need a change. IT is just dull and stressful, which is not a good combination. So, I could:
1. Look at getting into IT sales. This will use my IT experience but also mean that I could earn some proper money and not have to work in the same office Every Day. Argh.
2. Look at resurrecting my psychology degree. I'm quite interested in training as a life coach at the moment.
3. Find a job that pays the bills in T Wells and devote the time saved from commuting to doing something less boring instead. Like sleeping in and being home in time for Neighbours.
4. Go on the dole.
I should also be devoting a lot more time and energy to the wool business, as that's currently languishing for wont of effort. We have a couple of shows coming up and it's going to be a last minute scramble as usual. I have made the following resolutions in the past week:
1. Stop any unnecessary spending
2. Carry a notebook at all times to write things in like Wool - To Dos and ideas and 3BTs.
I can't believe that I still have an overdraft. I mean, I'm 30 years old, have a reasonable job, don't go out boozing every night, nor do I have a Jimmy Choo habit, and yet there it still is, nasty minus numbers. I have about three days every month when it's in the black, then the mortgage goes out, the few hundred goes out to my monthly pocket money allowance, the cheque goes out to the parents as repayment for the house deposit, and suddenly it's all well back in the red. Well, enough. Perhaps it's my stars - apparantly Saturn is somewhere to do with responsibilities at the moment. Huh. Perhaps I am just growing up finally. I'll be telling everyone to make do and mend soon, and darning socks.
On a brighter note, my man met me at the station on Friday armed with flowers. Well, actually, he had to chase me up the hill because when I get off the train I'm on a mission to get home, man. But I am hugely smug that I have such a wonderful man (and flowers). They do exist! (Wonderful men. We knew flowers exist.) There is still a little part of me that's questioning if it will all last, he's surely going to let on that in fact he spends 5 nights a week in the pub scratching his arse and farting like the rest of them, but we are ignoring that evil little pipsqueak voice at the moment. Get back in your box.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Molly, Rory and Agnes
We went back to the farm on Friday for Pete's birthday, and we got to see the new sheepdog puppy. Originally christened Spot, we have all decided that's waaay to boring, so currently she's called Molly.
Molly and Sam the kitten have a love/hate relationship.
Clare cuddling Rory:
And, on Sunday night, Clare went off to her adventures looking like Agnes from Labyrinth:
Molly and Sam the kitten have a love/hate relationship.
I failed to get a shot of the well-aimed paw swipe from Sam.
Cute one of Sam hiding in the roses.
Molly terrorising the inmates. Poor doggies.
And little sleeping Rory! He was a little angel (misleading), he was passed around about nine people and apart from a little grizzle about being moved he slept and looked angelic for everyone. I expect that meant he was up half the night for his poor parents. It's now the official time he was supposed to be born, but he's actually just over a month old.
Clare cuddling Rory:
And, on Sunday night, Clare went off to her adventures looking like Agnes from Labyrinth:
Pride 07
I know, this was two weeks ago, but you just have to see this new police car:
Yes, that is indeed a Lotus. Anyone want to sign up for The Force suddenly?
I followed these dudes into the park, and was v impressed by the chap's a) height, b) corset and c) inch long purple feather false eyelashes. They most kindly let me take their pic:
Paul V and pal:
Me with my face painted! Finally! No one ever lets me get my face painted. Paul didn't care. Also note the hippy balloons the police were giving out. They were also giving out pink whistles with Kent-Gay-Police.co.uk logos on them.
Yes, that is indeed a Lotus. Anyone want to sign up for The Force suddenly?
I followed these dudes into the park, and was v impressed by the chap's a) height, b) corset and c) inch long purple feather false eyelashes. They most kindly let me take their pic:
Paul V and pal:
Me with my face painted! Finally! No one ever lets me get my face painted. Paul didn't care. Also note the hippy balloons the police were giving out. They were also giving out pink whistles with Kent-Gay-Police.co.uk logos on them.
I did like Paul's T shirt with Maggie Thatcher in stockings and suspenders.
Anyway, it was v hot, and as predicted there were lots of burnt gay bottoms by the end of the day. (Flashing flesh is not an issue at these events.) But a gay old time was had by all and it was extremely entertaining, good fun, and very friendly. Recommended for anyone if you're down in Brighton at the right time of year. Just be careful which shops you stray into... We were just window shopping and ended up in the burley man's BDSM rubber implement shop. Mon dieu. I don't even want to know what they do with some of that stuff. It looks distinctly painful.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Garden delights
Look how well our tubs are doing! Two tubs, two bean plants, two tomato plants, one squash plant, and a satellite dish.
These are runner beans Red Rum:
This is a butternut squash in embryonic stages (it's only just over an inch long):
This is cherry tomato Sungold which only goes orange, not red, and is sweet and tasty (and more beans and the satellite dish):
These are runner beans Red Rum:
This is a butternut squash in embryonic stages (it's only just over an inch long):
This is cherry tomato Sungold which only goes orange, not red, and is sweet and tasty (and more beans and the satellite dish):
I think we're helped because the plants are on a balcony so we don't get the slugs, and we get more sun. And of course the tubs are full of well rotted farmyard manure. Arhhhhh.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Lists and legumes
Just a question before we start - does anyone else get that thing when you're dozing and having this very very long and involved Think, and thinking some really good thoughts, and then you are roused from the doze and cannot remember a single thing you have thunk? Although it's all just a gnat's whisker away from your memory? What's with that?
Anyway, our bean vines and our tomato plant are looking amazing. We've had seven beans off the bean vine (one seven different days), and it's draping very prettily over the satelite dish at the moment. However there are suddenly lots of baby beans on it so perhaps after the weekend we might actually get a full serving from it! How exciting! There are also loads of clusters of tomatoes. They are the little cherry tomatoes Sungold. We will have to make chutney or something at this rate.
It all goes to prove the wonders of a lot of good sheepshit. *:)
So the bloke's best buddy got me pissed the other weekend and we had a long and involved conversation about what we look for in a partner. (The bloke was driving and therefore sober, and I expect was getting rather concerned about what I might say, at drunken volume, in a pub full of his mates.) Best Buddy got me to confess that not so long ago I wrote a list of all the things that I wanted from a man, and worse, got me to promise to send it to him. I think it was more an effort on my part to make him think more about what he wanted from a girl, other than she's breathing and not swearing every other word. Such high standards. Whereas I had a list of 30 criteria. He was intrigued.
So, the next day, with a hangover, the list was duly sent. Best Buddy sent back an email starting OH MY GOD!! I hope all girls don't think like that or I'm ****ed! Hee hee. Bloke, at this point, was also dying of curiosity, wanting to know how he measured up. But also perhaps a little cross about it. He's right though, it can be viewed a bit nastily to have a tick-list for a future potential partner.
Best Buddy (with permission - well done) sent the list on. Bloke read it. Bloke's mum read it, and raised an eyebrow. (Yikes!!) Bloke, thank Christ, was not cross. Bloke gets loads of extra points.
He already scored 28/30 anyway. *:)
Anyway, our bean vines and our tomato plant are looking amazing. We've had seven beans off the bean vine (one seven different days), and it's draping very prettily over the satelite dish at the moment. However there are suddenly lots of baby beans on it so perhaps after the weekend we might actually get a full serving from it! How exciting! There are also loads of clusters of tomatoes. They are the little cherry tomatoes Sungold. We will have to make chutney or something at this rate.
It all goes to prove the wonders of a lot of good sheepshit. *:)
So the bloke's best buddy got me pissed the other weekend and we had a long and involved conversation about what we look for in a partner. (The bloke was driving and therefore sober, and I expect was getting rather concerned about what I might say, at drunken volume, in a pub full of his mates.) Best Buddy got me to confess that not so long ago I wrote a list of all the things that I wanted from a man, and worse, got me to promise to send it to him. I think it was more an effort on my part to make him think more about what he wanted from a girl, other than she's breathing and not swearing every other word. Such high standards. Whereas I had a list of 30 criteria. He was intrigued.
So, the next day, with a hangover, the list was duly sent. Best Buddy sent back an email starting OH MY GOD!! I hope all girls don't think like that or I'm ****ed! Hee hee. Bloke, at this point, was also dying of curiosity, wanting to know how he measured up. But also perhaps a little cross about it. He's right though, it can be viewed a bit nastily to have a tick-list for a future potential partner.
Best Buddy (with permission - well done) sent the list on. Bloke read it. Bloke's mum read it, and raised an eyebrow. (Yikes!!) Bloke, thank Christ, was not cross. Bloke gets loads of extra points.
He already scored 28/30 anyway. *:)
Monday, July 09, 2007
Rockin'!
Clare at 3BT has tagged me with this:
Thank you Clare! I'd tag her back but I can't. So I'm going to nominate my mum at Pauline's Garden, and hope she has time to post the button before the end of the summer.
Babies
I am an auntie!
I went to visit last night and Pete grabbed my hand and pulled me over to see Rory, turned to me and said, 'Look! Isn't he so cool?!' Aw!
Rory Peter Skinner was born a month early by emergency caesarian section yesterday morning, 8 July. All doing well now. Peter and Claire have had so many problems with the pregnancy, it's lovely to see them now with their little boy, shattered but extremely happy.
It's also very strange seeing my little brother being a daddy!
I went to visit last night and Pete grabbed my hand and pulled me over to see Rory, turned to me and said, 'Look! Isn't he so cool?!' Aw!
It was a pretty frenetic weekend all round. Elliot and Jo came down from Nottingham with their new little long-haired Jack Russell puppy Archie (who is super cute), we went to visit another uni friend Titch and his 8m old baby Alex, then all was prep work for the Tour de France which came through the village on Sunday. Sissinghurst put on a big fete and we were selling cherries, strawberries and cream, and had a wool stand. The sun shone and there were thousands of people there. The baby news was announced over the tannoy to the village. The cyclists and convoy of beeping floats and gendarmarie whizzed through at top speed. People queued for ages for burgers. Small children got their faces painted. Large adults threatened to abduct Archie. Finally the roads were reopened and we managed to escape: home for tea, and then to the hospital to see the new arrival.
Guess what? I'm knitting baby clothes already. *:)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Nerd, Geek or Dork
Found this test through someone else's knitting site!
My Score: Pure Nerd
52 % Nerd, 8% Geek, 8% Dork
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.
The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.
Yay, I am a nerd! I wonder how I would have scored if I could speak Klingon or went to sci fi conventions or owned comics or had the whole set of Buffy DVDs?
How did you score?
My Score: Pure Nerd
52 % Nerd, 8% Geek, 8% Dork
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.
The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.
Yay, I am a nerd! I wonder how I would have scored if I could speak Klingon or went to sci fi conventions or owned comics or had the whole set of Buffy DVDs?
How did you score?
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