Aging like a fine wine............

Well, I made it.

I have reached the rather grand age of 60. (Or will have, as I'm off to Birmingham I'm posting this early).

It feels a little odd really as I only feel like I'm about 24, so not sure I understand how I got to this point.  I can remember as a child thinking that 60 was really very old, but I would never get any older so it didn't matter, childhood is a funny thing.

I was talking to Ivey the other day who was outside playing music while on the swing in their backyard. It was rather lovely to see. She said she wanted to play me a song and put on Pharrell Williams' "Happy". I am rather fond of that song as it is one of our Zumba routines so I started dancing around to it. Ivey sat and watched me and at the end announced that she would play that at my funeral. It rather took me by surprise as I thought I had a while to go yet.

She told me that first, it would be played at her wedding, (phew, that's a relief then, my demise isn't imminent), but after that it would be my funeral tune. Now she informs me that she is going to marry at 23 after which I'm pretty much done. She didn't want to marry at 30 as I would be almost 80 and fit for nothing.

I sent her a text later that evening telling her that I would dance to that tune at her wedding when I'm 80, I got no reply so think she must be making plans to get married a lot sooner so I won't embarrass her.

It has made me think, reaching this age, that I must have no regrets. I don't want to sit and think I wish I had done this or I wish I had done that, I want to make a name for myself (if I haven't already), and enjoy life. It's rather why I enter quilts in shows and take part, when I can, in challenges. I have just finished one which must be shipped off as soon as possible for a show in Philadelphia, and my entry for the Festival of Quilts has arrived safely, so I will be pleased to see it there. I also have a quilt going on display in Burlington in September.

The piece I entered into the Festival of Quilts

I hope the piece I've just finished for the show in Philadelphia, is good enough, reading other people's descriptions always makes me think that I haven't quite risen to the challenge well enough, but I'll let the viewing public decide what they think, I expect no prizes. I took it literally, the challenge was Illuminated Letters and we were each assigned a letter of the alphabet. I chose to find a script that would suit my letter and hand painted, beaded and used gold leaf- which reminds me, we will get back to restoring china in September-as I have books of it.

The other thing I have done is to complete a wall hanging which we gave to the owner of FINE Restaurant in Grand Bend. Erryn is very good to us at the Gala for the Quilt Festival and always produces the most wonderful finger food for the evening, the plates are pretty empty by the end of the night so you have to be quick. Jan Bender, our food guru at Festival, always does a thank you gift so this year I offered to make it for her. We met at the restaurant and had a wonderful lunch and then had a chance to talk to Erryn and hand her the gift which she was thrilled to bits with and will have it hanging in the restaurant, so, if you happen to dine there and see this piece, it is mine.

I was pleased with the way it turned out. Just happened to pull this piece of fabric from the box and this is what it told me to do. The background and all the other fabrics apart from the trees are ice dyed, which is my most favouritest thing to do, as no two pieces are the same, and it's always serendipitous as to the end result. It measures 36 inches across to give you an idea.

A busy week ahead as Cathy and I leave for the UK and the Festival of Quilts. It is going to be a very busy time for us and taken up mostly with meetings, it will be quite a challenge juggling it all but I think it will be ok. I am very much looking forward to it and hoping to see the quilts, as we have passes, we can get in early every day which will give us the opportunity to look around and maybe do a little shopping.......

The husband will be quietly pining at home - well, maybe not, but he'll be here  home alone. That always worries me a bit. I went away once and he ended up driving himself to the hospital as he wasn't feeling too well. Oh well, at least we can message each other.

I'm also looking forward to meeting lots of people I get messages and emails from, but don't really know as I never get to any guild meetings or regional meetings, I've also had someone contact me as the husband and her brother worked together at Philips for about 40 years!! She is an avid quilter and coming to the show on Friday, it's a very small world sometimes.

Well, I had better get this posted as I have a lot to do today, off to church and then to start packing a quilt for shipping, start packing and I have eight ducks to contend with..............

Me with my quilt, the one on my left, at the Ailsa Craig Quilt Festival

Water, water everywhere........

Not long now until the trip across the Atlantic. I have absolutely no fear of flying having done it from a young age. Father used to work for Canadian Pacific, so the odd trip to Vancouver wasn't unusual, and he was away a lot, usually in Europe, Prague, Switzerland, and other countries too numerous to mention, but we did get to go on some awesome holidays and always by air.

I also don't mind flying across that expanse of water, I like to look down, on the rare occasion I get a window seat, and see the sparkling blue ocean which might have white caps on it and the odd ship of some kind, unless I'm flying to the UK and it's pitch dark as its  night flight.

I, however, am banned from going any where near water unless it happens to be my morning shower and hair wash. This revelation came about quite some time back.

When we immigrated, we found the perfect property which came complete with swimming pool. Now, not having had this luxury before, it wasn't something we really thought we wanted, but the summers do get hot and it did look very inviting. Once we bought the place, we then realized we had no clue how to look after the pool, so the husband had a quick crash course from the previous owner, nothing to it, very easy, doesn't need much maintenance etc., Hmm, well, I beg to differ there. Then we found a company locally where we could buy the chemicals needed, and they would also come and close it in September and open it again in the spring which took a lot of the stress away.

Well, I suppose we had been here maybe a year or two, when I got to know the neighbours really well, and as Connie was working, I used to weed her garden and mine just to get them under control. This was in the days when I didn't have too much to do. And so, there I was, one hot summers evening weeding her garden and perspiring, ( well, sweating buckets actually), when I thought it was time to stop and have a lovely cooling dip in the pool.

The husband was inside, down in the basement watching tv with the air conditioning on, and said was I alright? I told him I was just going to have a lovely cooling dip in the pool, went up stairs and got my towel and went back down and out through the patio door shutting it firmly behind me to keep the house cool.

Dear reader, it should be said that we are quite secluded, the house is a raised ranch, so looks like a bungalow from the front but is actually two storeys from the back, with windows and patio door on the lower level leading out to the pool, which is fenced on one side by a high cedar hedge, a line of trees keeps it private from the road that only the pit trucks use, and not at night, and our neighbours on one side whose property sits quite near the main road, and the neighbours on the other side about 100 yards or more and almost on the same level as ours. So........ off I stripped. Now I had heard the sounds of others out in their gardens, but felt safe enough to skinny dip as no one could see me.

I have to tell you that I do not swim. I never have, the thought of water coming above my waist has me hyperventilating, so I have never been very fond of being in a pool and always stay in the shallow end where I can touch the bottom, hang on to the sides and try very hard not to get my hair wet.

I put my towel down on a chair, and walked to the pool steps. I held onto the bars and turned around and put my foot on the first rung, I brought the other one into the water.......... and thats when I slipped and my left leg ended up behind the steps, my right leg touching my right ear and my hands slipping on the wet bars, and me having a panic as I was well and truly stuck. I started calling out for help, first for the husband, as I didn't care if he saw me naked, but of course, the doors are firmly shut to maximize the air con and he was watching tv. Then I remembered that my neighbours were out on both sides and had to try and attract the husbands attention without alerting them to the fact that I was in a spot of bother. The layout of the basement furniture means that the husband had no view of me or the pool so had no clue that I was in trouble. Well, eventually I managed to extricate myself and not cause uproar in the village. The husband comes out a little later to see how I am and I told him of my escapade.

Needless to say, he told me I wasn't allowed to be in the pool unattended from that point on, but that was after he stopped laughing. Mind you, the bruise the size of a dinner plate a few days later, was enough to warn me off.

Well, the pool has now gone. It was quite old, about 30 years when we moved in and it needed a new liner, one of the jets wasn't working and would be costly to repair, and we just didn't use it, so we decided to fill it in. If I feel the urge to have a dip, there's a pool next door, but I haven't done it yet.

My next foray with water happened in Port Lambton.

The neighbours plus the three children, the husband and I went down to a friends cottage in Port Lambton, a pretty spot. The road has the St Clair River on one side, and the cottage he has actually backs onto a canal. It has a nice garden with trees and a hammock slung between, a deck, BBQ, and is nicely laid out inside. We arrived one hot summers afternoon, got ourselves organized and then had some friends visit for supper, fogged the garden to get rid of the mosquitos and had a very pleasant time. The children were bedded down in the living room and all were feeling mellow. Connie and I had been shopping for supplies and we were set for the next couple of days.

The next morning saw us up not necessarily early, but up, and we had a lovely breakfast before enjoying a relaxing day sitting out the back by the canal and watching the world go by. There were houses on the opposite bank and each cottage has a jetty, there was a boat winched up out of the water and we had the use of it if we wished. There was also a plastic ring seat chair thing, that one could sit in and just drift in, and, as there was no current or fast moving shipping, it was fairly safe. It was also attached to the jetty by a long piece of rope. The children were all there, along with a friend of Ivey's in their swimming gear and each one had a life jacket,they all swim like fishes, but its good to keep them safe, there were only four lifejackets and I had no intention of going anywhere near the water. So, the idyllic scene was set, the husband and Connie and a friend, Sammy, were all sitting in lawn chairs, Murray was working on getting the boat into the water, the children are all there and excited, and Unger had been out in the little chair thing and had come back, Ollie was not too sure about it and changed his mind, and I was just putzing around trying to keep out of trouble.

Ollie kept asking if I was going to go in the little chair thing, not without a lifejacket says I, well, you can have mine as I don't want to go out in the boat either, so here you go. Thanks Ols! I feel much safer now. I am safely strapped into the lifejacket and I have changed into my swim suit. The kids are saying to me come on down here, Cynthia! This is fun!! Ok, ok. I climb down onto the jetty, which because it's floating on water, isn't very still, Dad is still fiddling around with the boat, and Unger and Ivey, have the plastic chair thing and are holding it and telling me how to step into it so I can have a quiet float on the canal, (which I hasten to add, isn't terribly deep). So, I am taking all this in, and I carefully lower one foot onto the plastic chair thing......................................................................
when it skids away on the water and I fall straight in.

I have to tell you that I did the only thing to save myself that I could think of, which was to grab hold of Ivey's leg and throw her over my shoulder. I am clinging on with my fingertips for dear life to the jetty piteously crying help me, help me!! Murray looks over at me, sighs and says, "if you edge over to the end, you'll find some steps". What? Oh yes, I see. Meanwhile those sitting under the shade of the trees look on and the conversation went something like this:-

"What was that?"
"Cynth fell in"
"Oh, where's Ivey?"
"Think she tried to drown her by throwing her in"
"Oh."

And that dear reader, was that. I managed to extricate myself from the water and haven't been allowed near it since.....


(I would also mention that no children were harmed during the telling or making of this story....)

I must be breathing.....

Well, I sort of collapsed in a heap after the Festival. We had a wonderful time and the quilts looked wonderful and classy as always, our quilters were terrific fun, and I got about 4 hours sleep every night, but it was worth it in the end.

All went relatively smoothly with just a small hiccup here and there, but if we didn't have them we wouldn't be learning or doing better next time. it's always a learning curve and will continue to be, the festival will keep evolving and has to in order to grow.

Once the Festival finished, I had one of our lovely teachers stay for the week and we had a very relaxed time, not doing too much, going up to Lake Huron - upon which, there was still ice at May 24 weekend apparently, - and down to Sarnia, (why? you may ask, well if you have never been to one of the great lakes and know that they are all connected, it's kind of fun to go to Point Edward and stand under the Bluewater Bridge with a clear view of the US in the background).

Since my lovely teacher went back to the UK, I have sort of collapsed in even more of a heap, but thought I would use the time to finish entries for the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham and was so excited to think all I had to do was sew the pocket on the back and put a label on it, won't take long I thought and then it will be ready to send. It was quite a satisfying feeling. I also re-did my CQ challenge quilt in 3 days, I had made one but it turned into a disaster, so thought I can do this again. The second one turned out much better than the first to be honest, and I set about making the binding and stitching it on........ except I didn't like it at all and it didn't lie flat.

I am turning away more and more from conventional bindings on my work,  I find it restricting and it hems my work in, my style tends to be freer. So, I took the binding off and used a hand dyed cheesecloth and hand stitched it, it looked so much better and framed the work without restricting it, a more organic feel. Ah!! That's better, so I eventually find the entry form and find that the edge should be exhibition standard, whatever that is. So took a deep breath and decided that they probably wouldn't like what I had done so would probably dismiss it. If anybody can tell me what an exhibition standard edge is, I would like to know, I am assuming it means a conventional binding which just didn't suit my piece.

So, never mind, I'll just finish of the other one and send that instead, so I walked down into the basement, and saw my piece lying where I had left it on the pool table, (which is where I keep all my quilts), and right on the front is a small black lump......

The offending mark

I was not having a good day anyway, so this just about put the lid on it. I picked the quilt up and took it into the light where I could see it better, and saw that whatever it was had dried onto the fabric, - ice dyed silk/cotton mix, - and left a hard dry black mark.

After a good sob, I put it back and thought that's it, not sending that one either.

So, that's where I am right now. I have tried very gently cleaning it, but it makes no difference and now I have a watermark as well as the black mark. so, I thought it best to just put the two pieces away and start on something else.

We always have lots of help with the Festival, and always a really good spread for the Gala evening which is provided by Fine Restaurant in Grand Bend. Jan always likes to do something by way of a thank you, so this year I offered to do a wall hanging, I have had a lovely time working on it, found it very relaxing and there is no pressure to get it finished within a certain time, which also makes a difference. So here are a few shots of where I am so far...

The husband looked at it and was quite complimentary, said he liked the bit on the bottom right hand corner so have decided to let that hang although it is now stitched down, the cheesecloth bushes will be hand stitched on.

I had fun looking for the different materials to go into this piece. The background fabric is a piece of my own hand dye, (which reminds me, I really must do some more this weekend),  and I painted the tree trunks on white dupioni silk. I have also used dyed Mulberry bark, and silk roving.

That got me quite excited as it won't be long before I head to the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham, I think most of our, (Cathy is going to chance coming with me again on the understanding that she doesn't lose me in any holes...), time is pretty much taken up with meetings, still lots to do for next years Festival, and hopefully I will get the chance to do a little shopping at the Festival, certainly with a couple of my favourite suppliers of silk rovings, threads and other materials, so, just bear in mind that I will be on a mission and apologise now for knocking you out of the way.

Our hotel is booked, although Cathy wondered if we should have booked an apartment just to get a feel for the local area, I told her that as the NEC is pretty near the airport there were no apartments so no danger of me falling in a hole. I am sure we will have a story or two to tell when we get home, there is always an adventure to be had.

My friends daughter has asked if I can shop for dresses this year. Last year I was able to do my Christmas shopping, this year it's in and out, no time for shopping. Anyway, I bought you skirts last year, whats wrong with that? I don't like them, they're uncomfortable so lets try dresses. Really? The skirts came from Monsoon! Just give them a whirl, you might feel differently if you wear them more often. (Sorry, has to be said that trousers, jeans, shorts etc are the order of the day here, I tend to be an oddity in a skirt). So we'll see, not that I'm expecting to go shopping elsewhere, but if there is an M&S close by.....

But I'm digressing here, back to work! I have been tidying things up too, putting binders away, and other Festival related stuff, hope I can find it all again next year.

Anyway, I have some time to myself although there are things to be done before Birmingham, not least some fabric dying, but at least I have a little time to breathe.......

The clock is ticking..............

Well, I really haven't said much lately have I?

It's that time of year again, coming up to the Ailsa Craig Community Quilt Festival. The quilts of Great Britain is the country of choice, and very beautiful they are too. I had the task of unpacking and cataloguing them all last weekend, and had a lot of fun doing it.

My home, my heart, my country by Hilary Beattie, one of the quilts sent from the UK for our Trunk Shows.

Now, it's down to the nitty gritty. Sorting through the registrations, making sure they are all accounted for, answering queries, sorting out lunches for those taking classes, making sure all supplies are available and making endless lists. I dragooned the husband into helping this year, as he said, if I wanted to yell at anyone, it might as well be him. I haven't had to yell yet, so I guess he is doing something right. He has also been a big help in retaking some of the photographs.

I don't know what it is with us quilters, but I know lots of us feel that we don't have to worry about photographs of our work. When I entered my very first quilt show which happened to be the International Quilt Festival in Houston, I read through the instructions and I thought "oo..er, what are they talking about?" The photos have to be a certain size so that the whole can be seen and then a detail. From that they judge whether or not your quilt is acceptable. Well, they must have been alright as I had a quilt shown in Houston every year for four years in a row. Unfortunately, I don't get to see my studio very often so I haven't entered anything for a couple of years now, although I have lots of ideas buzzing in my head.

My first Houston entry, Homage to Klimt

Abandoned, (the Laird House)

I used to take classes online with Quilt University, and actually made the husband take one that they had on photography. It has stood him in good stead ever since and I am forever grateful to him for taking it, it has enhanced my work immensely and whenever I finish a piece, the lights come out, the background is hung and then the piece can be pinned to it, and off we go. I think the two photos above are very good examples of his work and show the clarity of the subject.

Now, I am by no means going to deride anybody's photo, but........... some of them left a lot to be desired.  We always ask for photos for the Festival as we like to produce a DVD to sell to the public and also for us to work out a hanging plan. This is important as we need to see what will hang where, the size, what will hang next to it, will the colours jar, or will they blend? Lots of things to take into account when hanging a show. Quite often, the photo will bear no resemblance colour wise to the actual quilt, which really does not help.

 A lot of them were good and there were a small number that had me shaking my head as I say. So, I think I will publish a post in the future on the subject of photographs. The husband and I are in the process of writing an article on the subject for publication, hopefully later this year, but I'm rather tied up with other things at the moment so it is taking a back seat.

I will leave you to ponder on this subject for the moment as I really need to get on with other things, but just needed a short break to keep in touch with you all. I will be back...........

Deja Vu..............

Saturday was the day that the husband and I got to take my charge out for his birthday. He actually celebrated in very early February, but the show we are going to see was on this weekend.

He's a funny boy, I was hoping to keep it a big surprise, but he gets a little anxious, so it was while we were driving to music on Thursday that I told him where we were going. He was quite pleased which was a good thing.

So what show was it? Well it was the Maple Leaf Monster Jam Tour. Monster trucks and mud basically which I thought he would like, what little boy, or big one for that matter, wouldn't like trucks, big wheels and lots of mud? I had also got Pit passes which meant we could get up close and personal with the machines and drivers. The 9 year old is far too cool to look as if he's enjoying it, but deep down I know he did.

Mr. Cool trying hard not to smile

The two of us with one of two lady drivers in the show

Now this he really did enjoy!

It took me back to another time when the husband and I took him out for the day. When he was in Junior Kindergarden I was asked by Connie if I would look after him now and again. When he went to Senior Kindergarden, he would have every other Friday off, and he would come to me as both Mum and Dad were at work. We used to have a lot of fun together, we would go grocery shopping and then morning coffee in Tim Horton's and then back home for lunch and then back to his house to meet the school bus and his brother and sister.

People would feel sorry for me in the grocery store, and stop and give me things as he talked non stop, and I mean non stop.

I did this for a couple of years, and then it came to the time where he and I spent our last Friday together, as he was about to start school full time the coming September, he would have been 6 at this point. I was quite upset really, I always looked forward to our trips out and getting together. We decided that for our last Friday together, the husband, me and my charge, would go to the Air Museum in Hamilton which is almost next door to the airport there. We set off reasonable early, and had breakfast at Tim's and then continued our journey. My charge sang to us most of the way there, "Farmer in the dell, farmer in the dell, e,i, addyo, farmer in the dell.................." over and over..........

When we got there, one excited little boy is almost through the door to the exhibits before we've paid, and then he had fun, looking at all the artifacts and the different aircraft. What we didn't realize was that we had picked to do this trip the day before the Hamilton Air Show, so there was lots of activity

 and we were able to watch the Lancaster Bomber fly plus other planes, but, as with all small children, there comes a point when you hear, "can we go now?".

So we left reluctantly, but we had had a good day.

Now, we had to stop in at some friends on the way back home as the husband was picking up a jackhammer as we were about to dismantle our elderly swimming pool, and needed to break up the base so that rain, snow etc, could drain. We got to the house, and the husband and friend were busy chatting and then having a beer, and why don't we stay as the wife wouldn't be long and we could all go out for supper? We didn't have a set time to be home, so that was fine. The wife duly arrived home from work and we had a lovely chat and more beer was consumed by the men, it would appear that I was driving, so stuck to water.

I liked the paint job on this truck

While we were doing this, my charge was playing with the dog which was behind a chain link fence, not because he was dangerous, he's an Airedale called Howie, but he's quite boisterous, so he has the run of the garden in these area. They were chasing each other up and down and having a good old time, I think they were sorry when they had to finish their game, but we had to think about supper as we were still an hour or more away from home.

We ended up in the local "pub" which was nice, and the friend was showing my charge how to rest his foot on the brass rail and lean on the bar, he had a bit of trouble with that as he wasn't very tall. Eventually we got a table and he had chicken fingers and fries, and ice cream to finish. We then went back to the friends place, picked up our car and then I proceeded to drive home.

The husband was feeling mellow after several beers and well fed so settled into the front seat to sleep the journey home. My charge yawned several times and said, "I think I'll sleep all the way home, I'm really tired". A smile crept over the husbands face, and he settled down to rest.

Yawn...."Cynthia, do you know Farmer in the Dell? I've got a new one! Pilot in the dell, pilot in the dell..............."

And so it went on and on and..................on. From Woodstock to home. If he wasn't singing, then he was chatting, telling me all about the planes and how they flew ... then we'd start farmer in the dell again. By the time we got halfway home, the husband is asking if we're nearly there yet? Then the singing would start again, and the questions would  come, "Cynthia......" He always prefaces anything he talks to me about with my name, at least I know he's talking to me.

The journey continued with lots more singing and chatting and the husband was, by this time, biting chunks out of the dashboard. "Are we nearly there yet?", he sobbed.

We eventually turned off the highway, and things were silent for a little.

"Cynthia... are we nearly home cos I need to go to the bathroom......." By this time the husband was almost apoplectic. Not far, says I, about four minutes, can you hang on?

"Cynthia......... it's not much further is it? every time you go over a hill, my tummy feels funny". The husband is now in a stupefied state.

"Cynthia........ you will undo the door so I can get out quickly won't you?" The husband is weeping gently in his seat muttering gibberish.

I turn in their lane way, screech to a halt, he's out the door and running as fast as his little legs can carry him.....................

He made it, and I took the husband home and helped him out of the car and took him to a dark room to recover................

On reflection, it's pretty much what I did after we got home yesterday as well.....

To buy, or not to buy...........

I have come to the conclusion that I am not one of those people ever destined to make gobs of money.

This epiphany came to me yesterday when I went down to Port Stanley to remove my work from the gallery that invited me to join them two years ago and display my work. It was my decision to leave.
It was actually a very sad day as I love the gallery, and they have worked hard at promoting me and my work, but, it was difficult to sell. Not because it wasn't nice, it was textile work, and people always look at it differently to a painting. My postcards, 4x6 fabric "paintings" sold hand over fist, to the extent that I couldn't keep up with the demand, it was the bigger pieces that were the problem. As one of the partners said, and I have to agree, people see a painting and it is Art, they look at something I made.........it's a craft so why is it expensive? (And she wasn't belittling what I do by calling it a craft, that's how other people see it).

Well, those of us who work in textiles, know how much time, effort and design we put into pieces and know they are better than just a craft, but I get the point and understand it. I shall miss them but will continue to go down and see the other amazing pieces that they have for sale and on display, and I shall continue to work on things just because.

However, in the old cliche, it did make me realize I was rich in other areas, (oh no, now she's going to go all gooey on us and talk about how wonderful life is blah, blah, blah.......). Actually no, well, maybe a little bit, but maybe not in the way you are thinking.

When we landed in Canada 11 years ago, we stayed with my brother while we went house hunting. Luckily it wasn't too long until we found this place and then not too long until we moved into it. I remember how it felt to get the keys to the house and to walk into it thinking that this was it, the husband and I had left South Croydon, end of terrace, and here we are, a raised Ranch on almost two acres, we certainly have room to breathe!!

It was at least two months or more before we met our neighbours, Murray and Connie. Their house is maybe 100 yards from ours with no fence between, but we hadn't walked across to say hello, as we were too busy decorating and getting the furniture organized. Our neighbour the other side, Kevin, had been across to say hello the day we moved in, but we had no idea what the other neighbours were like. I had been told by the people we bought from that they were lovely, but that was it.  So, there I am, out on the lawn tractor, concentrating on what I'm doing when I look up to see this man standing there smiling at me. I nearly fell off the thing as I was surprised to see someone, but managed to stop and say hello.

 It was then, I think, almost another month before I met Connie. We were having a housewarming so I thought I should invite everyone in the near vicinity. She duly arrived with four children in tow, which thrilled the husband-he's never been terribly fond of children.

Well, as I said it's 11 years now, a fifth child appeared and we and they treat each other as family.  I'm lucky to live next door to one of my best friends. The children are an absolute delight to me-the husband has a different view point-the two eldest are now 24 and 21, and then the youngsters are 13, 12 and 9. I'm probably closer to these three as they have grown up with me, and quite early on I would look after them if Mum or Dad were working, it just seemed the most natural thing to do, and today the houses are interchangeable, our door is always open as is theirs, and there is never a feeling that you weren't invited or not welcome.

The three terrors with Dad at Christmas time at our place

Take the exchange I had with Oliver,13, and Unger 9, the other day. The four of us, (adults that is), plus another friend, were going out for the evening to see Matt Andersen,  so Murray was cooking supper, (it seems to be a very North American thing for the men to cook, I think it's because the women are busy quilting, it's a survival technique. I'd like to trade the husband in........), I walk through the door and the conversation went like this:

Unger (9 yrs old) "Hi Cynthia, why are you here?'
Me "We're going out with Mum and Dad"
U "Oh you're going to? So why are you here?"
Me "We've come for supper"
Moving up stairs (don't ask, the layout of their house is a little different)
Oliver " Hi Cynthia, what are you doing here?"
Me "Hi Ols,  I've decided I don't like living in my house any more so I'm moving in".
Oliver "Oh"

And with that, he just turned and walked away as if it was the most natural thing in the world, it wouldn't phase any of them if I did, hmm,... maybe I should think about it.

I have a lot of fun with the three of them. They know I don't buy toys for Christmas and Birthdays, never have and never will. Any gift they get from me is art related, or I will take them out for the day,  and Christmas is the only time of the year I get to go clothes shopping for them.

Ivey knew I was going to England for the Festival of Quilts last August, so assumed I would be doing some Christmas shopping. Could I possibly go for skirts this year? She has enough skinny jeans etc,. I dutifully shopped for skirts, they were a little thin on the ground, but I did find some in Fat Face, and some lovely tops there and in Monsoon. Clothes shopping here for her age group is pretty hard to do, and they do dress differently to kids in the UK, Connie and I have very definite ideas about how she should dress, her mother is very classy and always looks lovely, so Ivey is happy for us to shop for her.  I am dreading her 16th birthday. When her elder sister Emily, was 16, I took her to the UK for a holiday. It's something that is in Ivey's head often, with many a conversation starting, "when you take me to England when I'm sixteen.........." I just hope she saves enough money to bolster the UK clothing economy.

(Beware of coming to visit me, I will give you a list of clothing to be brought from Primark, (good for the boys), Monsoon, M&S and other favourites).

It also reminded me of another shopping trip I had with Heather.  She came over from Northern Ireland one half term with her youngest, Hannah, (who is now well into her 20's). We had the week all planned out and we had decided that we would take her up to London and "do" the town. We get down to East Croydon station, and pretty much straight onto a train, a lot of people had got off, and then we sat there.... and sat there. Eventually, those who had got off got back on, and I was fretting as it was cutting into valuable shopping time. So we continued sitting there. People started chatting to each other, as you do, and there were the three of us, and two businessmen sitting opposite. We didn't say too much but smiled politely, it was then that one of them said, "So, what are you girls going to do in London?", to which we replied, pointing at Hannah, "We're going to teach her how to shop!" You have never seen two grown men with fear in their eyes go absolutely white as sheets and think to themselves how lucky they were not to be married to either of us. The train eventually left, and twenty minutes later we got out at Victoria station and our day could begin in earnest.

We took Hannah everywhere, Harrods, Harvey Nicks, Bond St- I never said our tastes weren't expensive- until we finally pitched up for afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason. It was always a joy to have tea there and that day was no exception, afterwards we had a wander around the store. Back then, it was very much more fashion oriented than it is now, and they had a lovely shoe department. Dear reader, if you have read my posts before, you will know that I LOVE shoes, I really should go to rehab, but since moving here, my shoe buying has been curtailed as the quality is not the same, remember I'm a leather shoe girl, soles uppers, inners, the smell of leather can't be beaten- sorry if you don't believe in it- and the fit as they caress and mould to your foot is a joy. My mother always bought Swiss Bally, they didn't come any better than that 40 something years ago. Here they don't do leather soles, the uppers maybe, so the shoe is hard and jolly uncomfortable.

Anyway, I digress. There we are in the shoe department, and I found a lovely pair of summer shoes, beautiful colour and style, I try them on, perfect! Thank you , I'll take them, (they were not a horrendous price in case you're wondering), the assistant asked if I would like the matching handbag, no thanks I don't think so, Heather was looking at shoes and Hannah was following all this very intently. The assistant again asked if I wanted the bag and again I said no thanks, it was at this point that Hannah, quite exasperated, said, "if you don't buy the bag that goes with the shoes, how am I ever going to learn how to shop???" At which the whole department staff and other customers, collapsed with laughter.

I am also lucky to have a lovely husband who never questions what I buy. I had to go into town the other day, I had computer issues, they were quickly sorted, and then I had the rest of the day to myself. Living out in the country, you tend to make the most of any shopping trip to the big city, (London Ontario pop 367,000), so the one thing I did want was a pair of shoes for Zumba. so I wandered the mall and stopped at one of the shoe stores........ and ended up buying two pairs, neither of which are suitable for Zumba but just gorgeous.

I eventually get home and tell the husband about my day, fess up to buying two pairs of shoes, to which he just smiles indulgently, and says, "It's been a long time since you bought any" and pours me a glass of wine!

And in case you're wondering, I did get my Zumba shoes too................

Ho hum..........again....

Well, this winter is proving to be very long..........the snow came early and is being regularly topped up, but at least it has given me time to be in the studio working on a piece of art or two.

I was wondering what I was going to write about as I haven't posted for a little while, not because I don't want to, just haven't had too much to ramble about, so, I think we should carry on with restoring our china/ceramics.

Has everybody got them to a point where they are nice and dry? Good, then it's on to the next step. You will need a roll of magic tape, it's not as strong as Sellotape, and will come off easily. Right the next thing to do is to take your plate or cup or whatever it is, is it in several pieces?, if so, then you will need to just try placing the pieces back together to see how they fit. The reason for doing this is that you will work out the correct order when you come to glue them back together, nothing worse than finding you've locked a piece out.

This rather lovely plate came from the Maling factory and was in two pieces. "Easy!" you cry, but not necessarily. China has a memory and when it breaks it relaxes, so it is possible that the edges wouldn't meet exactly. It was not unknown for one end to be a perfect fit, and the other end to be stepped, that is, one end higher than the other, but there were ways of dealing with this which will be discussed further - if I haven't lost you already, I'd hate you all to be comatose.

So I think we will leave it at that for now, I will let you just tape the pieces together with no adhesive and then we will come back to it and see where we go from there.

This lovely teapot was interesting as I had to get the husband to help open the large area up so that I could get the piece back in as it refused to slide in and wouldn't fit. Heart in mouth moment I can assure you!!

It's actually quite fun to go through these processes again in theory, I'm amazed at how much I remember, but, I don't think I want to do it as a career anymore, although people still hand me things as they think it will take me five minutes to repair it. I really should look at what I have in the studio and clear it out. 

I have a total of four airbrushes and books of gold leaf. For those items that were gilded, gold leaf was supposed to be used to finish them, the only problem was that it didn't matter which colour you bought, it was never the right one and never matched, always to shiny compared to the gilding you were trying to match, and trying to use it was difficult. You didn't breathe as the gold leaf was likely to fold in half and it was a beast to cut pieces, then you had to create static by rubbing the paintbrush on your hair and then gently attracting the gold leaf to it, it practically leapt onto the hairs of the brush. In the meantime, you had put a very thin layer of glaze on the area of repair and then you would have to coax the gold leaf to leave the brush and sit exactly as needed. Don't try this at home, it's very frustrating and using gold leaf took years and years and years of practice to do properly. The usual way of gilding was to use Bronze powders, but we'll get there later.

I was working in the studio on a piece the other day, fabric that is, when I had the brilliant idea that I would use some of the gold leaf on my work, it's just sitting there doing nothing so why not? It took me three days to do not too much and I kept breathing at the wrong moment but at least it is on there. I will keep the finished piece for another post complete with gold leaf.............