Sniff Sniff Blow

I'm afraid I can't bring myself to be stoical in the face of illness. I just want to have a good old moan about how shit I feel.
My eyes ache, my nose is sore and itchy, my throat hurts and I've got tummy ache. At least my ears are better.
There, all done, just needed to get that off my chest.
What I really want to be doing is running up some cushions so I can start printing onto them. I am slightly afraid to start making them, in case it all goes wrong but I know that if I start doing it know I'll make a complete mess of it.
Anyway, the kids will be back home from school soon so no doubt they'll run around the house doing all the jobs I've felt too ill to contemplate tackling today, before tidying their bedrooms, making their dinner and looking after me.
Alternatively they may just plump down in front of the telly.

Chickens at last

At last I have something to show for all my efforts with the blasted sewing machine.

They never come out quite as I expect. Sometimes the machine seems to have a life all of it's own and it's strange when you sew freehand because you have the foot pedal jammed down so the machine is at maximum speed, yet you have to move the material really slowly. It's a bit like patting your head whilst rubbing your tummy, it doesn't come naturally.

Lou Gardiner, who creates totally beautiful designs with a sewing machine, www.lougardiner.co.uk/says she always plays music while she sews.
I think I need to try that, instead of listening to Radio 4 which maybe gives out the wrong vibe?

sewing machine hell

Today I decided to work at home, safe in the knowledge that I would be able to achieve vast amounts of work as today is Sewing Machine Day.
Yes, today I would rapidly produce many wonderful  but smaller versions of my chicken picture.
Or so I thought.
Of course it doesn't help that today is also Man Flu Day, so M is sniffing, sputtering, sighing heavily and generally putting me off in the room next door.
But I'm not blaming him. No, it's the sewing machine that is the butt of my wrath. It promises so much yet delivers so little.
In my head (that utopian world of longer legs, bigger bust, children who ask how my day has been and husbands who put their shoes away neatly in the cupboard), I could see myself happily hammering out chicken after clucking chicken, quickly building up a stock of lovely feathery cocks and hens.
But the blooming bobbin keeps jamming and the material is puckering and generally, it's not as productive a day as one could wish for.

Anyway, I will cluck off and persevere, maybe I will have something to show for al my efforts later.

Learning how to blog

The wonderful, beautiful Jemima Lumley (who is sat next to me so I have to say that) has just taught me how to blog!!!
This is my first ever posting, and I, er, have nothing else to say just yet,...watch this space.