Slow stitching a story

If you've followed the Scribbles for a while, you'll know I like being creative in ways that don't just include words. Most recently, I've quilted, although I don't tend to use old fabrics in the way that true patchwork originated.

Today, I got my chance to combine story-telling with stitchery.

My church is hosting an exhibition in November, called the Art of Remembrance; a local artist, Jacqui Gallon, has a particular interest in using art with folk who have been bereaved, and is facilitating the workshops which support the project. The idea is that anyone can remember their loved ones by creating simple artworks - artworks that will be displayed during the exhibition at church.

(I'd already enabled one piece of art at NIBS - we used the 'I remember' exercise again, thinking of people we'd loved and lost, then wrote out words and phrases with coloured pastels and chalks and felt pens onto large sheets of paper. These large sheets will be quartered and used in one of the artworks.)

Today, we did slow stitching. It's a coming together of simple stitching - if you can thread a needle and do a running stitch, you can slow stitch - and of memories.

There was a wonderful array of materials to choose from - some dyed with natural plant material foraged from our church woodland - and after a brief introduction from Jacqui, we chose our bits and pieces and set to on a 'warm-up' which developed into the real thing. It was a privilege to be privy to some of the memories that had inspired the choices of fabrics and embellishments, and I can't wait to see them all displayed.

Moira's workbasket and some sample pieces

I thought I'd share the story behind the two pieces I finished and the one I have to complete.

Green.

My grandparents both had gardens. Grandma's was long and thin and sloped up behind the house. It was a functional garden, growing gooseberries and currants and veg - the only bit of lawn was right at the far end, near the shed, and I remember the bean canes behind the shed...

Granny and Grandpa's garden was much bigger, but there was still a lot of it turned over to produce. I remember Grandpa making pea pod wine after he'd shelled his peas...and my uncles breaking into the 'wine cellar' to drink it at the wake after Grandpa's funeral. There was a much bigger lawn, and paths around the back of the borders that we used to run around. Granny was registered blind, so sound and scent was important to her in the garden, so I was delighted to find a piece of fabric with a little bird sitting in a tree.

I knew this piece had to be green. As I sewed, the straight lines reminded me of the lines of produce, and I left the ends trailing because in spite of how carefully you plan your garden, there are always some plants that can't be constrained to the lines... 

Clothes.

I also have distinct memories of some of the clothing worn by my grandparents. Grandpa was a working man, so I remember his boiler suit. I also remember him in cricket whites at a weekend during the summer. Granny loved colour, even though she struggled to see it sometimes, and I can still see her in a kaftan and large floppy sunhat on the beach in North Wales when we holidayed together. With Grandma, I think of aprons and crimpolene dresses - she believed when you got to a certain age, you should dress a certain way. She only ever used one dress shop in Leicester, because it sold those kind of dresses.

Seeing the shirt in the material stash made me think of clothing, and although it's nothing like anything my grandparents would have worn, it gave me my theme. Using a complete piece of the garment meant it was recognisable as an item of clothing rather than simply a scrap of fabric, and it provided a strong link to my memories.

Black, red and blue.

A good friend of ours died suddenly, years ago, in a motorbike accident. He was - at different times - a boat builder, a policeman, and a fireman. We only tended to see him at Christmas, at a black tie dinner a group of us have held annually for almost thirty years.

This one has got to be stitched yet, but I chose fabric for the red and blue of his professions, and I want to stitch waves instead of straight lines, for the sea. The black fabric, black sateen ribbon and a black button represent the dinner jacket he'd wear at our Christmas dinners. I'd have loved to include a piece of black leather too - mainly for the bike leathers he stripped out of (having biked all the way from Orkney) at our wedding, revealing his posh suit underneath... But also because ultimately the motorbike he loved was the reason for us losing him.

It was a real privilege to see the thought and memories that poured into these simple artworks - many of them probably no bigger than six inches square - and I am sure they will prove to be a powerful stimulus for others when they are viewed.

And if you doubted that we had fun - remember that nice neat table at the start of the session? This was it halfway through the session...!

A Community of Christmas Trees

Our local Parish Church - the big one, in town - is holding its annual Community Christmas Tree Festival. As usual, my own church set up a tree, decorated by our Starting Rite members. (Starting Rite is a 5 week course for parents and their babies, which explores baptism, and their logo is apparently feet!)

So, not too many words in this blog - but a few pics of some of the trees I admired the most. Have to say, though, they are all brilliant for different reasons - and there were 120 to see!

To start off, here's our St. Mary in Charnwood tree:

All the babies who'd been on the Starting Rite course gave a sock, and had their name added to it.

The teeniest, tiniest toes were Charlotte's - right at the top of the tree.

Keeping with children - this was one nursery's egg box and cereal packet tree...

If I remember right, this was a school's craft club...lots of very clever ideas on the one pallet tree...

There were two 'book' trees, but I liked this one because it was made out of thick tomes which described all you needed to know about every aspect of citizen's rights, supplemented with tags describing people's responses to the help they'd received from the Citizen's Advice Bureau...

Lots of guiding trees in evidence, but this was my favourite - a treeful of Brownies, made out of plastic cups...

And where there are guides, there are usually scouts! A tent tree - complete with papier mache scout, cub and beaver heads peeking out of it...

Huge tissue paper flowers on this Gardening Group one - each large flower's about two feet across!

Now to a treeful of angels. Book folding seems to be a big thing at the moment - I'm torn between loving the finished product and hating to see pages creased. But this tower of angels looked amazing.

You've heard of the Great British Bake Off - well there was a tree decorated as the Great British BISQUE off, by the pottery club of the Grammar School. I have never seen so many gingerbread men. And I loved the bunting made from cake cases...

Now, my favourite tree of the lot. Made by a group called Charnwood Threads, the idea was simple - here's a white triangle of felt/fabric. Now decorate it using needlework.

Biggest triangles are probably 4-5" from base to tip

Oh my - I could've posted so many more photos of the individual decorations, because they were all exquisitely stitched. But here's a flavour...

Frayed fabric strips...

A string of felt tree lights...

Minute patchwork hexagons...

 

Simple threads...

 And the prize for the biggest variety of tree types in one submission? This one  - a winter wonderland of trees made from knitting, paper, felt, card, books...have I got them all?

In a break with Squidge Christmas traditions, I will be putting up a tree Chez Squidge tomorrow - mainly because I'm cooking an early Christmas dinner for eleven (!) on Saturday so we thought we'd better be a bit festive. Pictures will follow...even though it's only about three feet high.

Right, I'm off to defrost a 12lb turkey. See you later!

Books that helped me write

As NaNoWriMo approaches (which I don't do...I've done NaNoEdMo previously!) I thought it might be a good time to share with you some of the books on writing I've used, which have made a difference in how I write.

The oldest one is this:

Seems a bit of a weird one, but my granny gave me it, to go with the typewriter I had as a child. The typewriter was a turquoise Petite Super International typewriter, just like this one, (image found on Adventures in Mattressland) and I spent many happy hours typing up little stories for myself on thin, cream paper.

Granny reckoned I ought to learn how to type properly, so I tried to teach myself the right way to do it. My sister, who trained as a secretary, would probably say that what I do on a computer keyboard bears no resemblance to the proper way to touch-type, but I have got fingers that are speedier, I'm sure, than if I'd never read the book...

Next one:

This book is laugh out loud funny. As the blurb says; 

'There are many ways prospective authors routinely sabotage their own work. But why leave it ti guesswork? Misstep by misstep, How Not to Write a Novel shows how you can ensure that your manuscript never rises above the level of unpublishable drivel... Alternatively, you can use it to identify the most common mistakes, avoid them and actually write a book that works.'  

When I started reading it, I'd have a mental check list and be thinking 'I don't do that' and 'thank goodness I'm not this bad!' but then - uh-oh! I'd come to a section and feel squirmy because I recognised something I WAS doing...which I quickly put right. 

On my kindle:

My kindle has a section, dedication to writing books. Let me take you through the ones I found most useful...

Nicola Morgan's How to Write a Great Synopsis is essential. There are exercises you can do to really pinpoint what your book is about. (Her blog, Help! I Need a Publisher is also full of fantastic advice which I've dipped into now and again.)

Stephen King, On Writing. Nuff said. Though I have to say I'm not a fan of his writing, I do respect the advice he gives.

Les Edgerton. Finding Your Voice was an enormous breakthrough for me. Reading this book showed me my natural writing style, and it was the point at which I started to write the way that suited me, rather than trying to write how I thought I ought to. Equally, Hooked is a fabulous insight into how to get your reader...well, hooked! 

Chuck Wendig is full of writing advice - and the first bit of his advice for spending 30 Days in the Word Mines is - 'You can do this. Trust me.' It's written in typical Chuck style, which is often sweary and goes off at a tangent! (Just like his blog...)

Then there's THAT book. 

                                

No, I'm not going to post a picture of it or tell you what it is. Suffice to say that it is a book which, when I read it, was so full of rookie errors, it annoyed the heck out me. Yet it had been published. It wasn't the story itself that annoyed me - that was actually really original - but the writing. I can remember thinking, thank goodness I don't write that badly. (At that time, I still had a long way to go before I was published myself, so it was a bit 'pot-calling-the-kettle-black' if I'm honest. Not proud of that.) Yet it is still what I turn to and read a few pages of when the infamous doubt demons strike, to remind myself I can write. And not too badly, either. Sounds horrible of me, doesn't it? But in a strange way, it helps.

And last, but not least, there's Anne Lamott, gifted to me by a friend who is also a writer and Christian, like me and Anne.

I suppose I'd call this an holistic approach to writing. Because we don't write in isolation - it's part of our lives, and we have to wrap people, places, jobs, worries and everything else around the compulsion that drives many of us to write. It's a very honest account of a writer's life. It includes the things we don't talk about or admit to - like jealousy, pride, depression, deadlines and all sorts of things. You know the ones - they tend to be glossed over or hidden away when we're putting on the brave face that congratulates our friends who've had success, or we receive another rejection for our own beloved manuscript. It's a refreshing read. But that leads me on to this:

You're right, it's not a book. It's a picture, another gift from a friend. I've not put it up yet, because I wasn't sure where to put it...until I looked for my Anne Lamott book to be able to write this blog, and the picture was with it.

You know the saying 'How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.' Well, Anne says writing a book needs to be taken 'bird by bird', a saying based upon the time her brother had to complete a school project on birds; he was so overwhelmed by the prospect, their father told him to tackle it 'bird by bird'... ie step by step.

Look at the picture again. On the first branch is one bird, the next down has two, and so on and so on until there's a whole branch full of them. Suddenly, the picture isn't just something nice to look at, it's a visual reminder of Anne's writing advice, to take it all step by step.

So there you go - the books that have helped me most in my writing, and why.

What about you? What writing advice books made a difference to your writing? Do let me know, because it's never too late to pick up a few more hints and tips on how to improve!

Holidays!

Just got back from our holiday in Greece. Seven sun- and sea-filled days with the rest of Family Squidge, staying for the first time ever in a (nearly) all-inclusive hotel with water sports, sailing and fitness activities.

I had a completely computer-free week, which is why I've not blogged for a wee while. You know what? I didn't miss it either. Perhaps I need to give myself a break from the electronics and social media every now and again, focus on what's important.

Anyway...while various members of Family Squidge were off doing all sorts of energetic stuff  - Squidgeling T and Mr Squidge went cycling nearly every day; Squidgeling J sailed Lasers and learnt to windsurf and paddle board; Mr Squidge also learnt to sail (with some spectacular capsizes and a few head encounters with the boom); Squidgeling T had a go at water-skiing and remained upright - I pootled about in a kayak or sat by the pool or the sea, rubbing in the Factor 30 and soaking up some rays.

Squidgeling J on a paddle board

Squidgeling T about to water ski

Oh - I did Aqua Aerobics too. Unfortunately I'm so short, I couldn't reach the bottom of the pool properly, so I had to tread water pretty much the entire time...! And on the last day, I had a joyride in a catamaran with Matt. They go SO fast! (And you get a very wet bottom because it's only a mesh platform between the two hulls...)

Me, on a catamaran with Matt the instructor. 

I wasn't completely lazy though - I took Rurik with me. For those who don't know, he's not a fifth member of the family. He is the main character of a novel I wrote just after the very, very first draft of StarMark, about nine or ten years ago. I've been thinking about reworking the story for a while, and while away, I came to a decision. More of that in a mo.

There are some things that stand out for me from this holiday.

Instructors - so patient and informative and friendly. Those in the kids' clubs are especially worth mentioning. The trust that the kids had in these young people was incredible. The most-said name of the week was definitely 'Archie', usually preceded by ''Come on...' though we realised there were quite a few young Archies about!

Swallows...there were hundreds of them! And a lot had chosen to make their nests in the corners of the room balconies facing the sea; it got very noisy at times, especially as there were a lot of baby birds. The nearest nest to us was on a neighbouring balcony, but the adult birds were sitting on eggs rather than feeding babies. We did see one nest fledge from the corner of the terrace restaurant, which was really funny as they couldn't work out how to get back into the nest again and kept colliding with each other. It did mean that, combined with the bats that came out from under the roof tiles at night, the resort was pretty well mozzie-free, with only a few bites between us. Thank goodness!

Feed me!

Sunsets. Awesome sunsets, especially the one the night we went to Lefkada.

One of our evenings out, at a very trendy hillside restaurant

Family Squidge in Lefkada. We're all the same height because
the bridge is a steep curve...and guess who stood at the top?!

Activities. Such a range...though doing the Vounackered 100km bike ride in 39 degrees didn't appeal! I could've gone to the spa, learnt to sail a one-man dinghy, windsurfed, paddle boarded, kayaked, done HIITs (a fitness thing, apparently), Pilates, yoga, played tennis...

Food. Delicious. Lots of it. Huge variety. And such lovely waiters in their turquoise checked shirts. And the egg lady...she'd been doing the fried/omeletted/boiled/poached eggs at breakfast for seventeen years in the same hotel. She was never without a smile and a 'Hello, lady!'

New friends. Having always had self-catering holidays, usually where there were very few English speakers - tourists or as a second language - in the past, it was weird but rather lovely to be able to chat to folk over a drink or dinner or during the activities.

Definitely came away grateful for the break after the stress of exams and all the usual end-of-term stuff. And it was good to have thinking time about writing, which means I'd better tell you about that decision I made.

I've got two novels on the go at the minute - my thief story, which sort of got passed over because of the course I've been doing with church, and the Crystal Keeper's Daughter which stalled half way. Neither of them are completely rubbish, but neither of them fill me with enthusiasm. Then I've got Rurik. His first adventure (there are five planned) was completed a few years back, but having read it through while away, I realised that, compared to Kingstone or StarMark, it reeks of fairly novice writer.

So...

I've decided to rewrite what was 'Adventure in Ambak' as 'The Mage of Merjan'. Rurik will become...Rhoda...or Ulrika...or Rika. Female, anyway. And she is going to have SUCH an adventure - it may well be the start of my first ever series! So I'll be working on that over the rest of the summer and into the autumn, with the aim of finishing the rework by Christmas. (I've got a kitchen being refitted and a daughter potentially going to uni in the meantime, so I'll grab the time where I can!)

Enjoy whatever you're doing for the holidays, and I'll be back soon.

Half a century old

Last week, I was fifty.

I wasn't bothered by it - age is just a number, after all - but it was a funny old day.

For a start, I had hormones. Yes, I know we all have them, but at a certain time in a lady's life, we get even more of the little blighters. So a fair chunk of my birthday was spent tearful and emotional, which made everyone think I was upset about the big 5-0, when it was simply my body choosing the worst possible moment for an outbreak of hormonal angst.

Secondly, it's exam season here and both Squidgelings are in the thick of it, so no huge celebratory get-togethers planned for the sake of revision. Squidgeling T had an exam in the morning, so all presents were delayed until he got home just before lunch. In the meantime I went shopping, made a couple of appointments, and opened some cards.

I had suggested that it would be perfectly okay for folks not to buy me anything, because I am very blessed and didn't need anything. But, as is the way, I was treated to lots of goodies from various friends and family who decided to spoil me on my 'big' birthday;

Basket of rainbow flowers, supplied by the lovely
Madeline's Gifts and Flowers

Gardening featured...and yes, that is a basket of chocolate frogs

Of course there were books...to read and to write in

New cycling gloves after the old ones perished (only lasted me twenty seven years)
a personalised bracelet with my name - spelled correctly!
rainbow mat, and my super startled sheep.

Other presents arrived over the course of the day - a writer's toolkit, a hamper from our financial consultant, potful of cornflowers, a pottery heart, beautifully scented lavender and bay candle, and a 'vintage' t-shirt which states '1967 - all original parts' on the front!

Family Squidge went out for lunch at The Griffin Inn, Swithland. I don't usually take pictures of my food, but I ate the best lamb dish I have ever tasted. I swear there was half a sheep on my plate... Lunch was definitely the highlight of my day. So nice to spend time with my family, eating good food and having a laugh in lovely surroundings.

Birthday drinks - the wine glass isn't really THAT ginormous!

Half a rather delicious lamb...

Family Squidge

All told, it was a pretty low key day, really. I don't feel any different - in fact I feel a lot better than I did, because the hormones have made themselves scarce for the moment! - I don't look any different, (I'm already grey!) and life isn't any different to what it was before.

Except that I'm fifty.

Or - as one person put it - twenty five for the second time.

Hey ho. Here's to my Fabulous Fifties, and whatever comes next.

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!

AGES since I last blogged!

Christmas is beginning to loom large - part of the reason I'm not blogging so frequently - and I've had a massive helping of Christmassy things over the last week, which I thought I'd share.

First, it was the Community Christmas Tree Festival in the town's Parish Church, All Saints and Holy Trinity. I had help with our church tree this year, and between myself and Liv, we took on a music and craft theme to look forward to the Nanpantan Festival which happens next year.

There were a few other trees that caught my eye - here are a few of them;

British Heart Foundation - Rainbow Hearts

A hairdresser's tree. Don't think it was REAL hair...

Tatted Angels - last year it was snowflakes

The War Memorial Poppy Trees

The Rainbows Hospice tree

Then it was off to Germany for the weekend. Without the children. Which was a whole new level of nervyness for me - the first time they'd been left home alone, even though grandparents were on call just up the road...

Anyway, the reason for the trip was that every year, with our very good friends, we cook a Christmas meal together and dress up in DJ's and posh frocks. It's a tradition that - we think - has been running for thirty years, with only a couple of years off in all that time. Our friends in Germany more often than not come over to England, but this year we travelled to them instead.

While there, we visited a genuine German Christmas market - small and intimate, in streets between pastel-coloured beamed buildings twinkling with lights under the eaves. There was Gluwein and wurst and gingerbread, Advent wreaths and baubles and Christmas candles. And a minecraft-style Nativity scene inside a giant snow globe. The photos are a bit blurry as I forgot the camera - Mr Squidge took these on his phone as the light was fading.

The biggest Advent calendar I've EVER seen...

And here's the whole gang - though I think you can only see the top of Nicola's head, cos she was taking a photo too!

One thing I hadn't realised in Germany is how important Advent wreaths - or Adventkranz - are. I know what an Advent wreath IS - we have one in church, and light a new candle on the four Sundays before Christmas, with a special one lit on Christmas Day.

In Germany, most homes have an AdventKranz too. Apparently they were a way of bringing evergreen into the house in advance of Christmas Eve, which is traditionally when the Christmas tree is decorated. Nicola had made two:

White and silver, to complement the antique glass baubles

Glass birds with feather and fibre tails. This wreath is about two feet across!

I like this idea so much, I think I will make an Adventkranz for Chateau Squidge later this week, because our tree never goes up until a week before Christmas and it would be nice to have something Christmassy (apart from cards and wrapping paper!) before then...

Stars play a big part in the Advent preparations too. Very popular are paper star lampshades for inside and out.

All set for dinner...

Although our hosts had prepared and cooked everything, Mr Squidge couldn't resist stirring the gravy...

One other difference this year - apart from being in Germany for our Christmas meal - was our dress code; black tie, posh frock and Christmas slipper socks! 

Look closely and you'll spot the sequins!

The weekend was finished off by a walk through the forest behind the house on Sunday morning, to see the view over Darmstadt and visit an alpine hut for frikadellen before flying home to the Squidgelings.

Somehow, this was the best meal ever. Thinking about it afterwards, I wondered if it was due in part to the fact that it wasn't JUST an evening meal with our friends. It was a whole weekend, with time to talk and relax and leave all the 'normal' stuff behind at home. We've all got some wonderful memories from a very special forty-eight hours.

Next year, I think we'll be back in Blighty. I'll offer to host it here, assuming we manage to get our new kitchen in by then...