It's 5 o clock in the morning...

and what am I doing? I'm blogging that's what, how sad is that?

I sit here in my eyrie, I'm sinking under a sea of Thesauri (is this right?), dictionari (probably not either?), tomes of spelling, grammar and the definitive guide to the appliance of the apostrophe. And guess what - I'm still hopeless. Although in my defence I do enjoy being provocative in a 'Is she really that thick kind of a way!' In order to play the piano badly you have to know how to play it goodly - innit. Well that's my excuse.

The aforementioned books bought from my fav on-line shop Amazon, are certainly good for the circulation. No, no, NO not to the brain, the feet, cos that's their main role in life. A better class of foot rest what!

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Why am I up this early? I'll tell you... I'm at a funny age... my hormones have bitten the dust to be replaced by a surfeit of creative genes. My head spins with ideas of a crafty nature. I turn over in bed and instead of reconnecting with the snooze apparatus, I start thinking what to do with my latest charity, ebay buy. Trouble is, by the time I get across to the studio I've completely forgotten what wonderful creation I was planning.

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It's Friday and I don't know how to change the day and time on this blooming blog. They say a little knowledge is a bad thing, how true that is. Can a blogging aficionado tell me how to do it? Only one prob here Lindy Lou no bugger reads it...

On a bitter cold day - LOOK...

what I've just picked in the garden... aren't they just beautiful?

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I will return...

I'm back...

Yesterday at sewing class I had a bit of an Elizabeth Bott moment; the only thing I didn't do was lay on the floor and kick my legs in the air. How undignified would that have been? I ought to tell you I am an only child, that in my book makes every spoilt cotton-picking thing I do okay. Is it my fault I didn't have a brother or sister? Don't get me wrong I love my sewing lessons with Debs, however when I decide to do boring things like curtains I'm not a happy bunny. The reason being I like being creative and making exciting stuff. I was sewing strips of fabric together and guess what? I got two back to front. After I'd bounced around the room shouting and stamping my foots, I nearly fell over, that's how BIG a strop it was. The ground vibrating; sewing machines rattling; sensible students with mouths open wide enough to catch hibernating queen hornets (see earlier blog), and Debs laughing fit to bust. I then calmed down and strolled over to my machine to discover that the I'd only gone 18 inches (or 46 cms if you're metricated) before I'd exploded in an almighty paddy. I just wish one day I might be able to act my age.

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If you want to know what the flowers are... I'm not telling you!

You'll have to leave me a comment. Then I might!

A miscellany of musings...

Yesterday's craft fair in our village church.

Debs from Pretty Goods can be seen setting up her stall (she'll probably kill me for this!)

I'm only pleased you can't see her stall, because it would so ably demonstrate her skills. And how much further I've got to go to attain her exalted heights. My angels made from sweet wrappers and bubble wrap don't somehow seem to capture the great and the goods' imagination. Can't think why?

My stall as you can see lacks a little finesse...

at least everything, with the exception of the paper ribbon and string was made by me. I get upset when you go to craft fairs and see bought-in wares.

Sunday morning... a note left by the kettle from Hubs who is out for the day... Aaaah!

Trouble is... I have to get dressed and go up for the papers. I'm out and about so I thought I'd take a few photo's to show you the village. This is the church, scene of our yesterday's skirmish with commerce.

The duck pond... self explanatory really...

The view as I turn into the track (to call it a drive would be far too grand) up to our cottage.

I love living on the top of a hill...

the reason being I can look down on people!

When I first said this to Simon, my partner who died in 2000, he replied in his cut-crystal(I've been to public school) voice...

"Spoken like a true socialist Linda!"

There you have it.

Treasures bought by me at the fair... I love the cover of this book, doesn't he look sweet? And the illustrations and colours are just so evocative of the sixties

A quince which will be part of our Sunday supper.

This beautiful embroidered picture for 50p from the WI stall. I just adore it. If I were to try to make a primitive picture like this it would look ridiculous. How do I know? Because being a frustrated artist who can't draw, I once mistakenly thought that primitive paintings were done by people like me. I couldn't have been MORE wrong.

£1 for this duck!

These Christmas trees made from wood salvaged out of a skip.

What a beauty... this flag was waiting for me when I got home... Yes, another ebay buy.

The man that made the ducks was telling a little boy in front of me in the queue that they were 60 million years old.

Suddenly I don't feel too bad for my age...

Poppy...

There's nothing I like better ...

on a day like today than get tucked up and cosy. I don't even bother to dress, well not sensible clothes, kaftan now there's a word to conjure with, cardy and fleecy slipper-dippers.

Thursdays I absolutely love, the reason being I don't have to go anywhere, no aqua-aerobics- three times a week, IF I can be bothered - my only concession to fitness. Sewing (which I do hopelessly!), dog walking, food shopping (boring, unless I'm entertaining), gardening, which as you can see from the photo I don't do very earnestly. Reading in the weekend papers that it's good to leave the garden roughty-toughty, to allow the birds, insects and wildlife some food and protection, fitted superbly with my slothful gardening technique.

8am curtains still closed, this is us - we don't care - it's wet, it's windy...Brrrrr!

The working day beckons ...

Are we ready?

Marmite and toast ...

endless mugs of tea ...

the studio calls me to arms ...

Hi ho, hi ho its off to work we go ...

not forgetting what day it is today - we must all remember.

Didn't we have a lovely day the day we went to ...

Whitstable.

Mainwarings Seaside Brocantes to be exact.

Charabanc chugging, purses pulsing off we set.

Toadying teacher's pet me, suggested the jolly to Debs of Pretty Goods blog.

To be honest I don't know which we did the most of - buying, talking, eating or drinking. Toddling (waddling by the end of the day) from stall to stall, shop to shop, caff to bistro, the only thing we didn't see was the sea. No time for that, we had treasures to discover, people to meet, coffee to consume, tapas to tinker with, alcohol to quaff. Is it any wonder I slept like a top last night?

This morning with head buzzing, my studio beckoned until that is ... yes you've guessed it, the Sunday sofa suckers got me in their grasp. Flopping back on the settee, thinking I ought to read yesterday's papers before the news isn't news anymore. Only two pages in, we had a visitor, it would be churlish not to make the Poppy collector a coffee, an hour later I still hadn't made the tortuous ten steps across to my place of work. Displacement therapy I think it's called?

I digress, as always, I talk in cliches, as always.

Anyway, the trip was a success, we got some contacts for our local craft venture we're planning, more to be revealed when we've firmed up on dates and venue.

The star of the day, in my book was Jane Bourne of The Cloth Hall. Her wonderful vibrant range of accessories including her signature Shredded Boa and It's Not Crochet scarves are truly inspirational.

Whodunnit?

A queen hornet, that's who!

I've just heard it on Autumnwatch. They come in at this time of year to hibernate and the description exactly fitted my assailant.

I've had a super busy day in the studio making badges for my next craft fair. Am I alone I wonder in trying not to look at other peoples work? Crumbs it don't 'alf undermine my crafting confidence if I do. Plus probably the best bit, is dreaming up the ideas in the first place. You wouldn't believe the weird and wacky things that spring into my head and guess what? I haven't got the foggiest idea as to how to implement them, or more to the point the energy to try. The sofa and scones beckon and I'm lost. Idle some might say.