7 Random Things

So Annie asked me to do the 7 Random Things test. I think Annie's first one is my favourite. I just got a very vivid scene of her on the sofa with a baking tray of oven chips. I am now looking forward to Rachel's response.

1. I always have cold feet. Any opportunity I get to not wear socks and shoes I take. This often means I wash my feet at odd times of the day, but I hate grimey feet. When I was really young I spent a summer trying to walk up our back lane over the stones hoping that my feet would get tougher the more I practiced, then I'd never have to wear shoes again. My feet never made it.

2. I always have to tidy up before I start making something as I make so much mess. Sometimes though, I spend so long tidying up I never get round to starting the project. I secretly love tidying. I could tidy all day long every day. This does not make me a tidy person you understand. I am a messy person who just likes ordering their own stuff and warring with myself over my inability to throw anything away.

3. I wish I could touch type. For a long time now I have been thinking that if I could type quicker and more accurately I would have more time to improve what I say and notice when I spell things wrong. I have been toying with the idea of taking a week off work and enrolling in an intensive course, but then I always talk myself out of it by thinking I could spend that time and money on the beach.

4. I found a wholesale place selling giant rick-rack the other week and I am kicking myself that I didn't buy any. I decided not to buy things if I don't have a specific project in mind. I am starting to regret such a rash decision.

5. I am a great starter but a shit finisher. I pile bags of half finished things into any space I can find. If you were to open my cupboards you'd probably find a family of tramps living in there. This all stems from the problem that I can't throw things away. I always think things might come in useful, even if I haven't touched them in 10 years. I endlessly sift through my stuff throwing one or two things away a year, then I secretly mourn their loss. I wish I could throw away huge amounts in one go. I think it would lift the burden of knowing I have so much useless crap around.

6. I love storage boxes and Tuperware. I have a problem. If you let me loose I'd buy them all the time. I bought 6 last week. They are full already. One day I will have a cellar full to the brim of all my rubbish in neat see through storage boxes that I'll probably never look in.

7. I wish my friends lived nearer to me. I wish we all lived on the same street and could spend evenings knitting and drinking wine together. I don't know how it is that we manage to be so far apart, but I sometimes dream we all live above MacDonalds.

Here is a picture of my latest purchases from the Quilt show I went to with Rachel and the project I bought them for. It's time to relearn applique. I did some applique on a my first proper quilt I made for Rowan, but I never took a photo of it. One day...

Face Off

Phineas is feeling far more expressive these days.

Faceless Monkey

An absence. A blank canvas. A monkey with no past. A monkey with no future. Phineas gave nothing away. Every thought was tightly encased in a blankness that others found disconcerting. They were drawn to him, drawn by the chasm of possibilities, the need to know the enigma. But they were also scared. Where were the feelings? the expressions? the vulnerabilities that made him a monkey? There was so little to know that one had a chilling feeling that Phineas wasn't even there. A ghost, A phantom, a creature lost in the shadows, touching you with featherlight digits which disappeared as soon as they were registered. Just who was Phineas? Had he once been whole? Had his face been taken from him in retribution for some dark deed? Were his thoughts too vile, too depraved, too unthinkable, to trasmit out of that blank expression? Or was he too new? Full of possibilities? Caught mid metamorphosis? Who could tell? All they knew was that he had decidedly funny ears.

The Unfortunate Incident

So I came downstairs on Valentine's Day and found this dead racoon. The Pony said it must have got runover in the night. It came with its own bodybag and everything. I like positioning my dead racoon round the house in his mock death pose. He is a great comfort to me. What a great idea he is. He is THE BEST PRESENT EVER!