Sunday, 19 April 2015

Bowing to the inevitable

Apparently the top left and bottom right faces are cats ... You need to squint a bit!

When I started writing this blog, my children were very small - one had just started school, one was still at  nursery. They're quite a lot taller now, and live life at about a million miles an hour while I run behind trying to keep up with them.

But, I must confess that in the middle of all the after school activities and homework and house untidying, they manage to fit in quite a bit of time playing Minecraft. OK, a *lot* of time playing Minecraft. I haven't actually played myself, but they seem to be having a fine time building online worlds and playing together. And while in school holidays and at weekends it can seem to be taking over, I remind myself that they also both play instruments and belong to sports clubs, as well as being busy at school, and as a child I probably spent just as much time watching TV as they do playing.

Anyway, just before Christmas I saw a tutorial for making patchwork Minecraft cushions. For those who are unfamiliar, the faces are highly pixellated and translate easily into *very* simple patchwork. So, I started by making Steve, the face all players start off with. And then I moved on to Stampy Longnose, who is apparently some sort of cat. They're angling for more - including a rather disturbing looking squid! But I think perhaps they can make those themselves ...

Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Waste not, want not


Over the last month on & off, I've been overhauling a neglected willow tunnel at a local school - more on that another day. Part of the deal was that I would take away the willow  they couldn't use, so I've ended up with a variety of lengths and sizes that will become basket handles and frames and plant supports and legs for willow animals.

I also had a couple of bundles of shortish, thinnish willow that was no use for basket making - it's quite a brittle variety and wouldn't make a border. Last year I learned how to make runs of low garden fencing and have been wanting to have a go but the willow I've had has all been intended for a specific purpose - until now!

An ex-sandpit...

There's a metre square patch of earth in the middle of our patio that used to be a sand pit; when our girls were tiny they would climb right into it and have a fine old time. More recently it has been a tiny vegetable garden but now we have raised beds that are more useful for that, so I decided to empty it out, build a little fence and make a planter.

Heath Robinson would be proud

I used a good old stick and string compass to make a circle, then set about preparing the uprights.

Stripping the willow - surprisingly time consuming!

Willow roots from its bark and I really don't have space for these to grow so I stripped all the bark from them, plunged them into the soil and will be watching like a hawk for any signs of life.

Sort of circular. Rustic, that's the word!

I wove around and around until I ran out of willow, secured the top edge and then had an awful thought ; I was planning to line the planter to protect the willow but what if the rods at the very bottom that are in close contact with the earth decided to root?

First row
Second row
In the end I cut a ring of pond liner and wriggled it between the base of the fence and the earth. I removed the middle to make sure water can drain, lined the planter itself and then filled it with compost. Done!

Nearly finished ...

Weaving done!

I decided to sow a bee friendly flower mix - I always grow flowers for cutting but these are a more haphazard jumble. I can't wait to see how they turn out!

Wednesday, 25 February 2015

Learning curves

I think I've mentioned before that I've been weaving on and off for much of my adult life; admittedly more off than  on while the children were small but in the last year or two it's become a more regular pursuit and one that I am now feeling confident enough to start selling baskets. I have a regular stall at a local farmers' market; there's only been one occasion when  I haven't quite covered my costs with selling the stock from my stall, but the commissions are coming at a regular pace now and that's a lovely feeling.

I'm continually trying to learn new techniques, and ways of making my baskets a little bit individual so when the opportunity recently arose to design and submit a piece for the Basketmakers Association spring exhibition I decided to give it a go.

I was cutting it fine for time so chose to make my favourite basket shape - a gently curving round that reminds me of treasured garden pots; and then I added a feature that I learned last year, a plait. Plaited borders are reasonably straightforward but trying to work out how to get the pieces in place to plait on the sides gave me a few head scratching moments. With only a very little time to spare I put on a handle, took some photos and sent them off.

Well, the basket was judged by some of the best basketmakers in the country and sadly, it didn't come up to scratch for the exhibition - apparently they had a few traditional baskets and so those that were accepted had to be absolutely perfect. I'd be the first to admit mine has flaws.

But, after a couple of days of wanting to just pack it in and throw all the willow away I decided not to be daft, but to practice some more and try again. The original basket is on Etsy if you'd like to have a look.

I can't imagine not weaving now. It's become a huge part of who I am.

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Justification for junk

My house is frequently a mess. There are boxes and boxes of wool and fabric stashed away (and frequently not stashed away), endless books of maths and Latin and violin and piano music, willow and rush offcuts on the kitchen floor, clean laundry piled on the beds waiting to be put away, a dishwasher full of clean dishes needing to be emptied and dirty ones stacked ready to replace them ... you get the picture.

But sometimes, just sometimes, my inability to throw anything away proves very useful. Today, for example, I am having lunch with a work friend but have no time to shop this morning and anyway, my knee makes shopping trips a trial rather than a pleasure at the moment. But ... last year I made a lot of jewellery for craft fairs, and I have some earrings and necklaces left along with the organza bags and pillow boxes and cord I used to package them. And look! There's a birthday card bought on the offchance of needing it one day. Sorted.

Also, last week the children's craft group at the local church wanted to make lighthouses, but the battery operated tealights they had ordered didn't arrive in time. Guess who just happened to have 30 stashed away ready for a project next year? 

And I'm finally getting round to making little penguins from a pattern I bought two Christmases ago. It calls for felt, stuffing, tiny black brads for eyes and empty mint tins. No problem.

I realise that having large bags of battery tealights is probably not normal behaviour. I'm hoping I can keep my tendencies in check sufficiently to avoid being featured on a Channel 4 special but it's touch and go ...

Please reassure me that I'm not alone - or am I?

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Cure-all cookery

Tea & biscuits

A couple of weeks ago I hurt my knee in a ridiculous racing up the stairs and swerving suddenly incident. I'm having physio and doing my exercises, but the predicted recovery time is ... depressingly long. Perfect for sitting and weaving and knitting, hopeless for walking and stomping through leaves.


Anyway, this weekend it's been pretty sore and the weather hasn't helped my mood - it has been particularly grey and November-ish and yesterday I found myself craving biscuits. Not just any old biscuits - comforting, spicy, warm, knee healing biscuits. Magical biscuits.

K beater
The K beater from my beloved ancient Kenwood mixer. It belonged to my mother in law, and
is the same model my mum had when I was little. 

And as it turned out, non-existent biscuits - the cupboard was empty, and no one had the energy to go out and buy any. I thought of making some, but couldn't find any I liked the look of. It was that sort of day.


But today - well, today it's all come together in the form of a recipe from Country Homes and Interiors of all places. These biscuits are very sweet - possibly too sweet, if I'm honest. They're also a bit ramshackle - I don't think I chilled the dough for long enough and they spread with joyous abandon and all met up in a great big friendly biscuit cuddle. But paired with a cup of tea, they are *exactly* what I need this afternoon.

Biscuit hug

(I tried to find this recipe online but it doesn't seem to be up yet - this is my adaptation of their recipe as I didn't have all the ingredients they suggested)

Spice biscuits
120g butter
180g caster sugar
1 egg
3 tsp mixed spice
220g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder

Cream butter and sugar. Beat in egg & golden syrup. Add spice, flour & baking powder. Roll into a  cling filmed cylinder and chill for at least an hour - I think even longer would be better.

Slice dough and bake at 180C for 10-12 minutes. These get very crunchy as they cool - yum!

Saturday, 31 May 2014

Wool and willow

The first basket I ever made was purple and yellow and traditionally used for collecting eggs. It's long since disappeared but had one (and only one) lovely feature - the handle was attached using a pattern called a God's eye. These days I used them not only for handles but also for tying together plant supports and trays, with split green willow. I adore them.

A couple of weeks back I was invited to take part in a fundraising day for a local community orchard, and to run an activity for some of the children who would be coming. It was tremendously hot and the willow I had carefully prepared was drying out too rapidly to be of any practical use. 

I had guessed this might be a problem so at the last minute I grabbed my basket of wool and proceeded to spend the next four hours showing small people how to make woollen God's eyes with willow twigs. Brilliant fun - ranging from very pretty pastel creations to some in the colours of World Cup teams!

There's something terrifically appealing about the way the stripes of colour harmonise and change depending on how they're ordered. I made them as a child and have always liked them; and when I read of their traditional use by the Huichol people of Mexico I fell in love with them just a little bit more - when a baby is born the father weaves the centre of the eye and a stripe is added each year until the child is five, in the hope of ensuring the good health of the baby.

So here we are in half term and while I crocheted and tweeted and hovered at the end of the table, the girls had their very own little weaving session. These are gradually taking over our house so we should be well protected with woolly amulets!

Apparently this one is in the colours of the Pride of Portree quidditch team ...

Here is a link to instructions if you'd like to make your own, including a variation on raised and recessed rows that I feel rather tempted to have a go at myself.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

All around my hat

If you've been reading for a little while, you'll have seen me mention weaving with Debs at Salix Arts. Whenever I go I know there will be a warm welcome, and wonderful food, and that I'll come away having made something fabulous.

But one of the best parts is the glorious willow Debs prepares for use in her workshops. I've bought a fair amount of willow now and hers is easily the most consistently lovely. This year she's asked me to lend a hand harvesting the current crop and I thought I'd share what's involved. (I can't share my back ache with you but it's nothing a hot bath won't sort out!)

Willow grown for harvest is coppiced and sprouts up from little stumps called stools. Each rod must be removed each year, by hand. This is straightforward but can be hard on the back and requires concentration if you're to avoid being poked repeatedly in the eye.

The willow beds are wet and muddy, and not a good place to drop secateurs (can you tell I've done this?!) Speaking of which, it's become very clear to me that oiling and sharpening tools becomes a daily job if you want to avoid hurting your wrists.

Once cut, the willow needs to be sorted by length and thickness - the high tech solution we use is to dump all the rods into a metal bin and then pull out the longest rods a few at a time and slowly, slowly group them into different piles. It's a toss up between sorting as you cut each armful, or cutting masses and sorting all at once. At the moment, the warm weather means the sap is starting to rise and the buds are threatening to break so we are cutting as fast as we can and bundling later.

After sorting, the rods are laid across a brilliant contraption that holds them together while we tie them with baler twine. Then they're ready to be taken back to Salix Arts.

At this point, what we have is called "green willow" - nothing to do with the colour. It's full of water and thus not great for basket making as it will shrink enormously as it dries. But it is gloriously coloured and amazingly flexible, and perfect for sculpture or making living willow structures. In a couple of months it will have dried out at which point it can be resoaked and made into all sorts of baskets and plant supports and decorations. But right now, I am using it to sharpen my skills in willow sculpture and little baskets that may shrink before summer is out but are perfect for spring flowers.

I have back ache, hand cramp, blisters and at the end of the day am tired to the point of exhaustion, but when the sun is out and the birds are singing, it's hard to think of a better place to be. If you'd like to keep up to date with the harvest you can follow me on twitter where I'm posting updates using the hashtag "willowharvest"