Word of the week: create

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You may have noticed things have been a little quiet around here this week, and that’s because every spare second has been taken up with creating! After warming up with some golden animal pendants before our trip to London, present-making began in earnest last weekend.

I’d actually been keeping myself awake at night worrying that there was no way I was going to find the time to put all my ideas into practice, so it was a bit of a relief to finally get the sewing machine up and running. You’ll have to wait to see the results of most of my efforts, but I’m pretty sure Arthur doesn’t read the blog so here’s a sneak preview of one of his gifts – a mini mei tai for the doll I’m planning on creating for him this week! It’s actually one of my favourite things I’ve made ever. Tutorial to follow…

It’s not all been about sewing. In fact I’ve been getting crafty with pretty much whatever I can get my hands on… The sewing’s been especially fun though – getting to grips with the machine I was given last Christmas, lots of problem solving and trial and error, and fortunately a reasonable degree of success!

Arthur’s been getting in on the crafting vibe too, enjoying getting glitter everywhere whilst I put the finishing touches to his cards.

Then there were the sticks we collected on our woodland walk to put to good use. I was keen to make something wreath-like for the front door, and came up with this:

Whilst Arthur and Daddy turned these antler-like sticks into our very own red-nosed reindeer.

There’s still lots to do, but we’re taking a bit of a break this weekend at my cousin’s wedding just outside Dublin. The whirlwind of creativity will continue next week I’m sure, and hopefully I’ll manage to get everything completed in time for Christmas!

Weaving a world

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Slowly but surely the world of my next novel is beginning to take shape…

I’ve had two really interesting research meetings so far with local people who responded to my request for information about Brixham in the 1970s. Last week I finally made it into our local museum to see some artefacts from the past. And as I walk through the streets of my town its history is beginning to become more and more apparent.

I’ve learnt about the changing face of the harbour, with working shipyards once occupying the sites of luxury flats. About the Seaman’s Boys Home which is now a flourishing outdoor education centre. About the holiday camps which saw people flocking to Brixham, enjoying diving platforms off Breakwater Beach and pedalos at St Mary’s Bay that are now long gone. My imagination was piqued today by talk of an untamed Berry Head, and of the hippies who used to attract admiring glances to their paintings by day and raise eyebrows with their skinny dipping by night.

I found interesting too the description of the local community as incredibly friendly and welcoming on one hand, and yet closed off to outsiders on the other. I can recognise that to some extent. However much I’m coming to love this place, I know I’ll never truly be able to call myself a local.

But I’m beginning to see where my two main characters might fit in here, forty years ago. Where their grandparents might have lived, where and how they might have spent their days, where they might have socialised, and where they would have escaped to when they needed some privacy. There’s still more work to be done – the local library’s my next port of call (always takes someone else to point out the bleeding obvious), and I’m going to try to fit in a visit there this week.

And then I think I’ll call it a day, for now at least. I believe there’s a fine line between not enough research and too much, and I want to get this story flowing whilst it still has space to breathe. The people I’ve spoken to so far have very kindly offered to do some fact-checking once I have a first draft to show them, and I’m sure our conversations will be able to be much more specific once I actually have a story to share.

I have to say I’ve really enjoyed my face-to-face research so far. I was nervous at first – I’m naturally quite shy, and feel much more confident seeking out information from the comfort and security of a keyboard. But there is most definitely much to be gained from talking to people, especially when the world you’re seeking access to is in the past.

I just hope I can mange to do their memories justice – and I’m very much looking forward to trying.

Searching for sticks

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We’ve had one of those gorgeous December days today – cold and crisp and bright and way too lovely to stay indoors for. So putting the to-do list to one side we wrapped out warm and headed out to see what we could see.

Specifically, we were hunting for sticks. I thought it might be nice to have a mission, and one that we might be able to turn into something crafty when we got home. And Arthur has a bit of a thing for sticks at the moment. Mainly, I think, because of Room on the Broom – he keeps trying them out just in case one might actually fly.

He was delighted to be out of the house, and once we’d got past the little bit of road we had to navigate he was off ahead, taking the steps up to the woodland in his stride.

He was quick to find some good sticks, too – pausing of course for a bit of drumming before we continued on our way.

He wasn’t terribly keen on sticking to the path, almost getting stuck in some brambles at one point but making it through to assess whether he could manage to scavenge the sticks attached to this (still living) tree. We decided against it.

His attention got waylaid after a while though, pretty much at the point when he realised the ground beneath his feet was covered in leaves! He announced first that he wanted to lie down for a little sleep…

And then giggled as he smooshed his fingers into the muddy leaves before picking up handfuls of them and watching them fly.

He did fortunately decide it wasn’t actually the best place to have a nap, and after a little persuasion was happy to follow me back towards home. There was a moment when I thought he might try to drag this fallen tree home to add to our stash, but it turned out to be a bit too big.

And even without it we ended up with a pretty good selection of sticks. Now we just need to decide what to do with them! I’m thinking maybe combining them with some trimmings from our Christmas tree to make some sort of wreath. We shall see…

Silent Sunday: 7th December 2014

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Word of the Week: Sing

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I don’t know whether Arthur’s just been infected by the festive spirit, or whether his memory and his linguistic skills have reached the perfect level to let the lyrics flow, but suddenly this week Arthur seems to be taking any opportunity to break into song.

There has been more music playing than usual (though we’re usually a pretty musical household anyway) and with Christmas coming his Music with Mummy classes have been especially good fun. And he’s just been amazing me with his ability to remember not only the words, but also the gist of the rhythm and the melody.

I have to admit I’m generally pretty impressed with Arthur’s words. His vocabulary and syntax are improving every day, and it is now entirely possible to have a conversation with him if the topic tickles his fancy. I’ve been meaning to write a post for ages to try to record this fascinating stage in his development, and have resolutely failed so far. So I might just record for posterity the lyrics he’s been singing for us this week.

We’ve had, almost word perfectly, ‘twinkle twinkle little star how I wonder what you are’, inspired I think by our sparkly Christmas tree. One of his very first words was ‘star’ actually, about this time last year. Amazing to think how far he’s come.

Continuing the festive vibe there’s been ‘jingle bells jingle bells… all the way’, a slightly curtailed version which reminds me of his birthday greeting which until recently he shortened to ‘happy to you’ – actually a rather lovely sentiment really. The economy is also reminiscent of his re-telling of ‘this little piggy’, in which all the pigs get roast beef.

Then, from Music with Mummy, there’s the pudding song – sung to the tune of ‘wind the bobbin up’, possibly his first favourite song now I come to think of it. We get ‘stir the pudding, stir the pudding, mix, mix, chop chop chop’, though sometimes he skips the mixing for the chopping. He tends to skim past the next bit to get to ‘lick the spoon it does taste nice’. Too much baking with Daddy methinks…

And whilst on the subject of Daddy, I got back from a governors meeting last night to be welcomed by Arthur singing ‘you’re so money, honey’. I think I may need to monitor them a little more closely!

There are others, but just typing these little snapshots makes me smile so thank you for indulging me. I love that Arthur loves music, and I’m looking forward to continuing to hear him find his beautiful voice over the weeks and months to come.

Why I will not be staying at home to breastfeed my baby

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Dear Natali,

I read your article in The Independent today, and to say it made me angry is an understatement. I’ve watched the responses unfold on Twitter, both in support of and against your view that breastfeeding mothers should stay at home with their babies, and have found myself quivering with rage.

I imagine you thought, with public breastfeeding a hot topic in recent weeks, that it might be a handy way to garner publicity for your forthcoming novel.

And I’m sure you’d tell me to lighten up, to not take your words so seriously. You tweeted after all that your intention was to be ‘tongue in cheek’, to be funny.

The problem I have though is not only that your words contain only the barest hint of humour, but that also the issue of breastfeeding – public or otherwise – really is no laughing matter in this country.

I wonder if you stopped to think for a moment about the realities we are facing. That despite the NHS recommending exclusive breastfeeding for six months, only 1% of British babies are exclusively breastfed for that long (with only 34% still breastfed at all at that stage). Not forgetting the WHO recommendation that babies are breastfed for at least two years. I can count on one hand the amount of mothers I know who fall into this category, and I have no doubt many eyebrows would have been raised if I had been breastfeeding my (very well behaved) 23-month-old over afternoon tea at Claridges.

But I would have done, because I know my rights and I know what’s best for me and my son. I have, to date, breastfed him in a number of establishments you would I’m sure have denied us access to – backstage at gigs, fancy restaurants and yes, swanky hotels. I have yet to be challenged, and I hope if I was I would have the courage to stand my ground.

The thing is though that there are many, many mothers who would not feel the same way. Numerous women who would read your article and nod sadly, convinced that their desire to breastfeed their child is not compatible with any kind of social life, concerned that they would be subjected to the judgemental gaze and comments of people like you. I have come across many cases where it is precisely this that leads women to choose bottle over breast, leading them in turn to miss out on the myriad of physical and emotional benefits breastfeeding offers them and their baby.

You say that you are qualified to pass your judgement – indeed are an ‘expert’ – by dint of having once breastfed yourself, but that doesn’t wash I’m afraid. Much as homophobia is still unacceptable when it comes from the mouth of someone whose ‘best friends are gay’, you don’t get to tell breastfeeding mothers to stay at home just because that is where you felt most comfortable.

You refer derisively to the fact that the breastfeeding mother whose mistreatment you were responding to burst into tears when told to cover up by staff at Claridges. This surprised me, as surely being a mother of two yourself you remember the cauldron of hormones of the early months? Or maybe you don’t. Having read this and some of your other articles it’s clear that you practise detachment parenting almost religiously.

It’s sad, really. Almost a reason to feel sorry for you. Apart from the fact you’ve chosen to express your views so publicly in a supposedly respectable newspaper.

The Independent of course has a case to answer here too. In a society where bare breasts are fine as long as they’re being used to sell something and yet establishments from local cafes to world-class hotels openly discriminate against breastfeeding mothers despite this being against the law, it is a travesty that a newspaper that prides itself on its liberal views can give yours air.

But it is you whose words made me so very angry. On the blog you contribute to you proudly refer to yourself as a Selfish Mother. And sure, there are times when us mums need to put ourselves first. But to be so selfish as to advocate denying mothers the right to leave the house and to contribute to the incredibly damaging dialogue that denies women the freedom to choose the best start for their babies? That, I’m afraid, is a step too far.

Yours sincerely,

Sophie

Linking up with Sara at Mum Turned Mom for her prompt: ‘I read the news today…’

Some thoughts on structure

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As the building blocks of my next project begin to take shape, I’ve been pondering on how I’m going to put them all together to form a coherent whole. If I’m going to stick to the plan of commencing a first draft in January, then I’ll need to have chapter outlines worked out in the next few weeks. Well I know I don’t have to, but that approach has worked for me so far so I’m kinda keen to keep it going.

How the novel’s going to be structured isn’t a decision I need to square away completely now, of course. I can still play with the structure right into the editing phase. But in my mind what I write – and particularly what I reveal – will be influenced a lot by the order in which the story is told.

If you’ve been following my thoughts on the story so far, you’ll know it takes place in two distinct time periods: the teenage summers of the 1970s, and the grown-up days of thirty-odd years down the line. There might be some moments in between that need exploring, but I’ll deal with that when I come to it. It definitely doesn’t feel like the story is going to be a linear progression between the past and the present. Things will swing back and forth, and not necessarily in any particular order.

It all oscillates around one particular event. I’m not going to tell you what that is, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to reveal it in its entirety until the end of the novel. There will be hints and clues along the way, but I think the truth needs to stay hidden for as long as possible.

I know I could just work on alternating chapters, jumping back and forth between past and present, but I feel like I want something that flows a bit more organically than that. I was watching a film last night – Begin Again – and I really like the way it tells its story. Flashbacks are triggered by concrete things which shift the narrative to a different time and place from where it works its way up to a key event that is retold several times from slightly different perspectives. I liked the way that approach built up the story, like layers of paint on a canvas. I might try to do something similar, though it would take some quite complex mapping to get right.

Just writing all this down is helping. I’m starting to see how the pieces might fit, and that in turn is actually adding to my ideas about the plot and characters. I can see a very large piece of paper with numerous post-it notes in my near future… And yes I know I could do it on Scrivener, but it’s just not quite the same.

A midas menagerie

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I’m a sucker for design motifs from the animal world, especially on clothes or jewellery. I’m also not one to shy away from a bit of bling – especially at Christmas time. So when I came across this simple but effective idea for making necklaces I knew I had to try it.

The recipients I had in mind were four of my bestest girlfriends, aged between five and forty two. I saw them this weekend, and we rather naughtily exchanged gifts even though it wasn’t even quite December! But that means I can now share them here without spoiling any surprises – and if you’re on the lookout for fun homemade gifts you’ll still have plenty of time to give them a go.

You will need:

– Small plastic animals

– Tiny eye hooks

– Gold spray paint (or any other colour that takes your fancy!)

– Necklace chain in your desired length (I used 18 inch)

– Jewellery making pliers

– A largish cardboard box

– String

Step One:

Select your animals, and screw in an eye hook to the back of each. You might want to position this slightly closer to the head rather than directly in the middle – mine ended up a bit top heavy!

Step Two:

Spray paint in your desired colour! This was the most complicated (and most fun) part of the process, drawing on my husband’s previous love of model painting to come up with a system that would be quick and mess-free with a perfect finish.

He suggested using a cardboard box with one side cut out and suspending the animals from a piece of string, like this:

This easily transportable frame meant we could paint outside then bring them in to dry, and also could be turned upside down to help us get at every angle!

(Whether you decide to do this in the middle of the night like us is of course entirely up to you).

Step Three:

Once the paint has entirely dried (see the directions on the can), you can attach the chains. I found the pliers handy here to open the eye hook out a bit.

And that’s it! So simple, and rather a lot of fun.

I picked out the elephant to try on, but it was hard to choose a favourite – they all looked super cute!

I have to admit I was rather pleased with the hippopotamus though, if only because it gives me the excuse to sing this song…

photo 93142f35-6d39-479f-b3de-d94dbca68162_zps58499252.jpg

Silent Sunday: 30th November 2014

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Choosing a Christmas tree

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With me and Arthur heading up to London this weekend, we realised we were going to have to get our tree organised early if we were to have any hope of having it up before the middle of December. That might not have been a problem in the past, but what with it being only Arthur’s second ever Christmas, and the first where he’s really beginning to be aware of what’s going on, we are keen to make the most if it.

Preparations began on Thursday morning, with a perfectly timed session at Music with Mummy in which Arthur and his friends read a book about choosing the perfect tree (well, Carol read it to them – and of course Arthur was straight in her lap as soon as he got the whiff of a story).

Then we all sang a song about decorating the tree, and there was even a little tree to decorate!

So Arthur knew something of what to expect when, that afternoon, we headed to Marldon Christmas Tree Farm. We got our tree from there last year as well, and it really is quite an experience from the moment you turn into the fir-lined drive.

They had only just opened for general business that day so not everything was up and running, but the main attractions were very much in place. I was all set to spend a while umming and ahhing over the perfect tree, but as soon as we were directed towards the ones that fitted our criteria (6 foot-ish with non-drop needles) Leigh made a beeline for one he said was calling to him. He’s half Canadian, you see.

It it was a very beautiful tree, and Arthur seemed to approve. Whilst Leigh was arranging to get it all packed up, we thought we’d better go and have a look at some of the others anyway. Arthur had great fun weaving between the trees, camouflaged perfectly by his jacket and adding to his disguise by picking up fallen branches along the way.

He was fascinated by the whole process of getting the tree ready to transport too – watching as it was trimmed and wrapped and more than a little confused when it was strapped to the top of our car.

We were just about to head home when I remembered the reindeers. They’d only just arrived from the North Pole, and weren’t strictly ready for visitors, but we were told we could take a little stroll down to say hello if we really wanted to. I didn’t need any persuading!

Arthur toddled off between the trees, still clutching his branch and stopping every so often to smell the fragrant leaves that lined his route. We could hear the reindeer calling in the distance, their voices getting louder and louder. And then we saw them.

They are such beautiful animals, and I could have watched them for hours. But darkness was rapidly approaching so after a quick chat we headed back towards the car as the moon rose above the trees.

It was a magical little adventure, and the perfect start to the festive season. We will definitely go back to the farm over the next few weeks once things are up and running – there’s a German market I’m looking forward to exploring, and we’ll have to let Arthur have a ride on the land train to see how the reindeer are settling in. There was something very special about being there right at the beginning too though, when there weren’t so many people around and it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves.

And as for the tree? Well that’s pretty magical too. It looks a little bigger in our lounge than amongst its friends – we might have got just a little carried away… But it’s going to look incredible all lit up and decorated – I can’t wait to dig out all our sparkly supplies when we get home next week!

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Sophie is…

on a journey of (re)discovery in a brave new world.