Not enough hours in the day this week. A good week though. Sunshine, flowers (I've decided the top ledge is the best way to show off shy faced hellebores), plenty of playdoughing, playing with the ribbons (while I made birthday presents - including bacon jam. Woah.), and some surprise flowers from R.
Saturday, 8 March 2014
Tuesday, 4 March 2014
What a difference a few weeks, and a bit of sun makes. (Just don't look at our lawn - it's currently swamp-like after being trampled over by workmen for the past week).
Garlic shoots - most seem to have survived and haven't been snaffled by the birds or mice / a blue tit hiding in the silver birch. We're getting many more birds visiting the garden which is good / turns out even overgrown salad leaves look lovely in the sunshine / sweet peas potted up / lime green hellebores / dogwood heading skywards
Joining in with Annie's How Does Your Garden Grow?
Monday, 3 March 2014
There are indeed cats in this book. Some very well named cats. Moonpie, Tiny and Andre in fact. They are all now firm favourites in our house.
There are Cats in this Book is a wonderfully interactive tale with plenty of flaps, cleverly layered and shaped pages, and direct instructions from the feline friends to keep toddlers busy. Some of our favourites include the page of boxes, where the cats request that you open the lids (and then thank you as you do - polite cats, these), and the page when the cats get wet - they need to be blown on to be dry and fluffy again (hence the final photo!).
After a quick google, I've discovered a video of the author Viviane Schwarz reading There are Cats in this Book, and discovered that she has also written a book called There are NO Cats in this Book! (and for folk that can knit, here's the knitting pattern for Moonpie, Tiny and Andre!)
Joining in with Tigerlilly Quinn's We Like to Read link up.
Sunday, 2 March 2014
This week has felt like it's been stressful and grey. On looking back at the photos I've snapped over the week, I see it's been the opposite.
Scaffolding - a necessary evil to repair the leaky roof. All done now / sunshine flowers from a friend / threading beads. She loves it (and I love that she loves it) / new-to-her sparkly jelly shoes from the NCT nearly new sale. She wore them all afternoon / getting photos printed / trying out colour combinations / raspberry biscuits - not the neatest / seeking out the sun
Currently playing: Cavalier by James Vincent McMorrow.
This girl is an avid hair twiddler. Doesn't matter whose, although mine generally seems to be the preference. I can't sit down on the floor at home without her arriving on my lap with a proclamation of 'dair!', and having a bunch of my hair fiddled with as she sucks her thumb. Her own hair is just starting to be long enough to play with, so my role as 'the one with the twiddly hair' may be coming to an end soon...
Joining in over at Practising Simplicity.
Friday, 28 February 2014
Cor, snuck this post into February by the skin of my teeth!
February's book was Instructions for a Heatwave by Maggie O'Farrell. It was pretty much a dead cert that I was going to enjoy it - I have yet to read a book of hers that I haven't loved. The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox and The Hand That First Held Mine are both up there in my list of favourite ever books.
The first page of Instructions for a Heatwave documents the 1976 drought act and the only permitted uses of water. There was a somewhat pleasing irony that I was starting to read it on a day when our city centre had been flooded, the bridge across the river had been closed due to the volume of water, and the local swan population were been revelling in their expanded waterways. No drought here.
Maggie O'Farrell has that magical knack of translating human relationships to the printed page. I think it's that aspect of her writing that I love the most. The way she captures sibling rivalry, marital harmony (or lack of) and perceptions of love.
Maggie O'Farrell often writes about family secrets, untold stories and dark pasts. Instructions for a Heatwave is no different. The story starts when Robert Riordan tell his wife he's just popping out to buy a newspaper. He doesn't come back. What follows is the rediscovery of the strength of family ties, the remembering of a shared history and a secret that has been kept for decades.
Because this book was so unputdownable, I sped through it, reading chunks at a time when I got a chance for a solo weekend breakfast. And finished it so quickly, I managed to start another book in February - Girl Reading by Katie Ward, picked up for pennies from the local charity shop. I'll write more on that next month...