Ridgeway Cottage anyhow

Before both of my children learnt to get themselves dressed, they started to really rather particular about what they wear. Each morning Charlie's room is littered with socks and pants, randomly discarded whilst he searches for which ever ones are the right ones. And with the ability to be a touch on the fussy side about colour, style and fabric, they also have a number of favourite items. This results in these items being worn over and over again until the look decidely subby and the children appearing a little uncared for. The are some stained, worn items riddled with holes that I have been forbidden from throwing out so it is now time for a bit of recycling, upcycling, patching and a small amount of mysteriously being lost in the wash. Charlie's army trousers (with the rip from the knee to the ankle) have been transformed into a pair of shorts and I have promised to make him a pocket covered boy bag with the disguarded fabric. Josie's leggins (which always seem to get ho...

Oh joy, it's the first of April 2012 and this month is about seedlings. We plant them, water them, watch them and prick them out. I do love how fragile the first pair of seedling leaves appear to the rest of the plants. The first leaves of my cucumber plants have been there for a couple of weeks and now with the warmth of the last few days, the drastically different rough and spiked edged second leaves are beginning to grow. It is also the start of the Easter holidays, so I have days and days to spend tending my tiny seeds. I recently bought my first ever Moleskine sketchbook but until today had not decided how to start it or quite what to draw in it. I wouldn't exactly call it artist's block, but there is that slight fear of an empty sketchbook as one doesn't want to ruin it with a rubbish picture. Then it came to me, a little project for the Easter holidays, I could do a sketch each day as a record of all things special from this month

Throughout the dark and grey days of winter, the gleaming trunks of the silver birch, brighten and shine. They look spectacular in the sun and moon light with their almost ghostlike iridescent quality. Recently I seem to notice them more than I ever have and Wildwood is an excellent place to run amongst them on a sunny afternoon. Today I met up with a lovely friend and her two boys at Wildwood. Our children are now at the age where they can pretty much have the freedom to roam the park whilst us mums get to sit and chat. I was even able to sketch some silver birch trees and lucky enough to get some positive feedback from some mini critics.

As I complete the third day of the Easter holidays, I am spending a small amount of time reflecting on how rich and varied just today has been. I have ... Been woken by simultaneous demands to think of how many uses I can think of for paper clips and explain how a secret diary can in fact be a secret diary if someone else has an identical one Made a nightdress for a doll named Gwendoline and then renamed Lucinda Hand printed some pirate wrapping paper with matching card Turned a small boy into a pirate Advised on design for party invitations Tidy - cooked - cleaned in an endless circle Whipped up a tea party and some chocolate mousse to celebrate the chocolate mousse day Witnessed the effect of sugar on children Said "yes" and "no" lots and lots and lots Described in detail the process involved in actually washing hands at least 4 times Turned off the tap Turned off the TV Laughed, cried and been for a lay down Some pirate art Today'...

Life can sometimes be so overly complicated, rushed and expensive. Demands from all directions, the pressure to conform to the materialistic world and be the best in every sense of the word. And then there are wonderful days like today, where just as children have done for generations, my children played with my friend's children in the garden. There wasn't a giant trampoline, a hugely expensive wooden adventure playground, the iPads were left indoors and imagination, dirt, mud and rubble ruled the day. There was two 5 years, their elasticated belts filled with the rumbustification of pirate life / royal swords of the great knights of old and two eight year old spies / secret agents and one Theo who had the possibility of a number of well loved role models. I did try to capture the essence of the day in a sketch but despite having several models on the pile of rubble, none of them stayed long enough to enable to draw a decent figure and the background rather took over, swampi...

Despite the clocks going forward and British Summer Time starting, I am a fair weather gardener and today was not warm enough for me. Over the past two days (today not included) I have made a little progress at the allotment. I always think that I'm going to get prepared in the Autumn, put tools away, tidy up and do a bit of digging during the winter but I never get around to it because it just a bit too cold. The Before Photo A great deal of weeds, some cabbages that didn't quite make it to the correct size and some spring greens that I left there because they are actually doing fairly well. The After Photo Weeded, dug over and planted with the onions that I bought in the autumn but didn't get around to planting in the allotment so I stuck them in a seed tray over winter. Oh well fingers crossed. The ladybirds like them

When I was little, Mothering Sunday was quite a traditional affair. My Grandmother was very much involved in the local village church and the Mother's Day service was dedicated to children. We would dress in our best clothes and go with our small posies of hand tied flowers which would inevitably involve daffodils. This memory did get me wondering why we celebrate Mother's Day in March or to be more precise on the fourth Sunday of Lent. I did imagine that it would have some religious history and after just doing a little bit of reading, I discovered quite an endearing story. It dates back to the days when lots of children, often as young as 10 years old were sent away from home to work in service. The church felt that people should be allowed to visit their 'mother' church once a year and visit their families. As they headed home, they picked wild flowers from the hedgerows to give to their mothers as gifts on the way. I was lucky enough to get flowers, beautiful ha...