Sew a play house

I made the boys a play house! It fits snugly over our kitchen table. You should see them play in it, it's so funny!

 

Here it is all open. Imagine two sweet little boys peaking out at you, grinning wildly! It's a good picture, trust me. I'd show it to you, but I keep the boys' faces off of here. The play house is plain on the back and sides but the front has a window and door, complete with velcro-ed tiebacks to hold both open.

Want to know how to make one? Here's a run through... Thrift yourself a duvet cover. Pop it on your table 'frame' and see if it fits. Mine was fine front to back, but came up short on the two narrower ends. All I did was cut the cover open on three sides (two longer, one shorter) so that it became a very long rectangle, popped it on the table again and cut it back down to size.

Making sure it was the wrong way up, I used pins to mark the corners and follow the line down the legs, sewed this line up, then cut off the excess. When you look at the excess on the un-cut sheet, it looks like big triangles of spare fabric where each table leg lies. Darn I should have taken photos! But it was a make-it-up-as-I-go-along project and I was only in 'mum' mode, not 'blogger' mode.

Pop the boxy sheet back on your table, wrong-side up. (I did this each time I sewed up a leg-line, before cutting the excess, just to make sure I wasn't measuring it wrong!) Then use a felt-tip and tape measure to mark where you want your window and door, and cut. I let my three-year-old loose with the felt-tip. He thought he was helping(!). Cut out your window & door. Then fold over a 1/4-1/2in hem for each, still wrong-side up, and sew. I pinked into the corners to stop them puckering too much, and double-stitched there too.

Measure out the size of curtains and door you want. Cut out (had to be yellow for us - the Little One's favourite) and hem all around before sewing in place over your door and window. Embellish as you like. I have a felt '2' (The Little One's favourite number - he has favourites for everything!). If I had time or girls (!) I might have made some felt flowerpots on a windowsill or something.

Then, to save time and fabric, I used the selvedge ends of the yellow fabric (as they wouldn't need hemming) to make tie-backs. I turned over each end, sewed one end to the sheet fabric, covered it with a little square of sewn-on velcro, then added the matching velcro square to the other end. Ta-da!

It's a good project for a beginner as you don't have to worry about it looking perfect: it's just for playing; there's a lot of make-it-up-as-you-go; a bit of fraying and mis-shape is fine.

Design flaw - yes, they hang out of the window a bit and I am waiting for their weight to rip it (maybe I should have reinforced the bottom edge?) The Tiny One tries to climb through it. It's not quite the you-play-so-I-can-get-on-with-stuff house I hoped - I have to keep a beady eye on that window! - but not far off. They have such fun. And the best thing is, I don't have an extra playhouse and frame to store and then find room to put up. My table's there already, I just pull the chairs back, take the little folded house out and go.

Action shot below!

 

(Ps Found my inspiration here)

Victory dance!

Every Friday Fabricworm (big online American fabric retailer) run a giveaway on their blog. You should enter.

I nearly always enter. I don't know why. I never win anything. I mean, not school raffles, not the lottery (!), nothing in between. Nothing.

I won!!

Properly shocked. And the weird thing is, it was the only time I've ever entered a fabric giveaway that I really, really wanted to win.

It arrived from America last week. I laid it all out on my windowsill to show you (but even on a windowsill there's not much natural light around). The elephant prints are, I think, Daiwabo Japan Fabric, Tip Top Elephant Walk. I'm not sure about the rest. Mostly I love the yellows. And the elephants. Oh, the elephants.

But what do I do with it? Fabric I love needs to go to special projects. Fabric that's free can be used on any old project. Fabric that's won (and I never win anything) should go on extra-special projects. Decisions, decisions. Answers on a postcard please...

Storing, sorting, preserving

Yes, it's a very dark, bad picture. But this is a little peek into my pantry and it's a shame there's no tempovision on computers yet or you'd be able to touch that picture and find that the chutney's still warm! (And no, sorry, there's no such thing as tempovision; I'm just a little weird).

When in doubt, work on storage.

In the last few days I have sorted out the storage in the over-the-stairs-cupboard (sounds strange - we have stairs that used to lead to the attic, then we converted the attic, built new stairs, sealed off the top to the old ones, but left them there behind a door. You just climb them til your head hits the ceiling. It's like living in Alice in Wonderland. I.e. freakin' fabulous... only most of the time they have suitcases, boxes and sleeping bags resting on them). I have also sorted bits of the eaves storage (the bits that don't involve toys the Little One is too young for but would go crazy for if he discovered them).

Last week I sorted the drawers in the utility room (finally put the winter scarves and gloves away now that it is just about warm enough to do without them... just). And the sewing storage (pretty ribbons were organised into boxes = pretty ribbons are now jumbled on the floor out of boxes = the Little One found them).

In a sort of storage tangent, today I have turned three punnets of organic plums into plum chutney, using this Delia recipe... only I had the old version from her 1970s books and didn't know about the 'thick enough' test. I don't think it was thick enough. Oh well. But it felt good to make it. It's that classic psyche-yourself-out technique: when you are not doing the everyday things that need doing and instead do an added extra, and it makes you feel super-capable. Only, don't tell anyone, those everyday things are still waiting to be done. You should see the toys on the floor around me. They'll only be strewn around again tomorrow so, tonight, I choose not to bother putting them all away again.

It's been a bit of a tough fortnight. I figure if I spend some time sorting, storing and preserving all around me, it might encourage a bit of spontaneous, tandem sorting, storing and preserving of my insides too.

Today will be better

... and it was. Fingers crossed, eh?

(Picture of my kitchen blackboard. Nothing like a bit of self-psyching up.)

(Yesterday was worse. And the day before. The weekend was busy. Hence things have been a little quiet around here. Time to get the sewing machine out I think.)

O Daddy! My Daddy!*

(* slightly clumsy augmentation of the famous 'O Captain! My Captain!' poem by Walt Whitman)

You may remember that, some time after Mother's Day, I wrote a post about my fabulous mother. Well it's been Father's Day and I can't let my dad go uncommented on. So strap on your seatbelt dad, here we go...

I made my dad a chequebook cover, out of an Ikea beige plain fabric and a beautiful V&A shell print. Crikey, it's tough to sew for a man. Sewing seems such a feminine thing (though I know a fair number of men do it). If you ever take the time to look through an online fabric shop, you'll find most prints are floral, pretty-coloured or child-oriented. There's little masculinity to be found (though, contradicting myself again, Amy Butler's husband has started designing his own line of manly prints).



But a chequebook is a sort of masculine thing, and a cover for it is a little more - well, a lot more - manly than a bag or somesuch. In the recesses of my memory I remembered Mary Emmens had sewn a few, so I had a go at making my own, making up the design as I went along (though I can now see that her remembered chequebook cover provided more than a little inspiration - thanks Mary!).

So there's the chequebook story over. Now to what I really wanted to say...

• My dad is brilliant, bonkers, unforgettable.
• He's sixty-something on the outside and sixteen on the inside.
• He's absolutely head-over-heels with my children, just as he was head-over-heels with my brothers and I growing up. I had my unappreciative moments, particularly when breaking free as a teenager. Now I know how lucky I was; how lucky I am. I don't tell him often enough, because we tend not to with men, because 'I love you's' are more known than spoken.
• You'd be hard-pressed to find such a Pied Piper to children - in the best of ways (by which I mean he's not leading them into the mountain!). I've yet to find a child not completely potty about him. Does he have some kind of secret magic? They just know that the twinkles in his eyes were made by them. My children are as lucky as me. And that's very lucky.
• My mum taught me about the mother I wanted to be, about the woman I would become. My dad taught me about the person I wanted to be and would become. That's really quite something.
• He had so much time for me. We would spend hours talking through the way the world and the people in it worked. I can't tell you how often the 'fruit-economy' and 'wine-bottle-perspective' lessons have come in handy over the years. You can't help but be in awe of  a man who loves a good metaphor.
• He taught me, stood on a chair, to recite Wordsworth's Daffodils. That's a gift to anyone's heart.
• He gave me my love of words and writing. He taught me to watch and draw. So many of the lessons I've learnt and the passions I've grown have been down to him.
• If a dad can teach you 2-point perspective at about eight, and take you for trips to look at railings, chimneys and window proportions, you're a lucky girl. You'll learn how to see the world, how to represent it, and to notice all the little overlooked things that can enrich your world and your day.
• Counting my blessings, taking my rose-tinted glasses off, mowing my own lawn rather than going where the grass looks greener... all these things, all this philosophising, came from him.
• He's a realist. His praise is saved for when it's really deserved. He tells the truth. He thinks deeply. He thinks hard.
• He knows me. And for the things in me that have changed or improved, I know I can show him those things and he will learn. He won't always tell me how great he thinks I am, but he will probably be telling someone else. When he does tell me, it'll mean so much more than the easy, little praises other people can give you. I will have really earnt it. He will have really meant it.
• I don't know how I could continue without him around. He keeps saying he's not long for this world. Stop it, Dad! Live, live, live. We none of us could be without you. You're the cement holding us all together. You're the magician to my children. You are the captain, my captain. I would be adrift without you.

Baby steps

What's new pussycat? Well, the Tiny One went from these...

to these...

Yes, his first pair of shoes. Time's just rolling on by, and I feel like a twig in floodwater some days. Whoosh.

The Tiny One also had his first swim at the weekend (tears to smiles in five minutes) while the Little One went in for the first time in over a year (and finally likes it). The Big One wouldn't come. He was having a teenage moment. Usually I just let those moments roll over me, but this time it was sad. He would have loved it. He used to love it. And the two littlies would have loved him there. So I say, "next time" (or else!)

In other news, tonight was a sewing night, but here I am still at the computer. So much for rolling back the blogging stuff: I feel sucked in again. And I don't seem able to stop writing, thinking about writing, reading, searching for inspiration and being inspired. It's hard to roll back on something that feels like it's doing you good. But the balance is better this time round.

I've got a blog redesign up my sleeve but I need the lovely husband to give me a hand with the photography and the design side (he has a good eye, and I need a sounding board). Watch this space!

A few more things I've been sewing

I said I'd give you a sewing catch-up. We're half-way there, so here's some more...

I made a wall/bed hanging pocket thingy (what would you call it?) as a 3yr old's birthday present. I'd like to say the wonkiness is as a result of perspective, but it's me not measuring properly. Lesson learnt! Still, I'm rather fond of it. I'd love to make one for the Little One.

The lovely fabric is from Robert Kaufman's 'City Centre' collection: 'City Commute' in primary (here's an example). I bought it from Fabric Rehab but they've currently run out.

Here's the second of my commissioned lengths of bunting. It's for a little girl with yellows, browns, neutrals and greens in her room. Her mum picked out the fabrics. Aren't they lovely? Good taste! I can't wait to see it in situ. There are some curtain samples from my mum in there, some fabrics I'd bought, part of my dad's 1970's corduroy brown trousers (!) and broderie anglaise from a pillow I had as a child. Hard to part with, but off to a good home.

 

And for another 3yr old's birthday (we're in the middle of a long run of them), I used some apron fabric I picked up at our local fabric mill's second's shop. I really love Maisy Mouse. With a bit of pretty yellow ribbon and some careful hemming (a curve! I know, you've all probably done one before, but it was quite something for me), it came together in just under two hours. I have the fabric for two more. Hooray!

Yes, that is the Tiny One making his mark. I know I don't usually show photos of my boys but this one is still very anonymous and I just couldn't resist that little dimpled hand in the picture. I'm off to give it a squeeze now.

Around here lately

I've been making more of an effort with lunch. Taboulleh here we come. Still struggling to get the Tiny One to eat though - why does a mother who loves to eat and cook all sorts of fancy and unusual things get stuck with a baby who will eat very little? He doesn't even like bread. Grrr.

Said baby discovered my confetti stash and confettied everywhere. Still, it kept him busy and happy. Congratulations on your wedding, Tiny One.

And what keeps the Little One happy? Some cream on his sore fingers apparently (he picks his nails). Only he did it himself and it turned into some sort of game. Oh dear. Congratulations on your very soft hands, Little One. They stayed soft all day.



What keeps their mama happy? Their confetti and nappy cream messes, definitely. And sewing, obviously. I've been working on the Little One's 'cars & diggers' birthday quilt (it's past his birthday, but at least I actually started it beforehand. Progress, my friends).

And here is progress on my first ever paid sewing. Woo hoo! It's complete now, though of course I didn't get a photograph. I do love a bit of bunting. I don't care that everyone else does now. Popularity doesn't diminish loveliness in my opinion.

I'd love to say I'm off to sew some more now. But I'm off to clean the house before a 10am birthday party. My mother-in-law's coming.

Catching up

There's about a month missing isn't there? I thought I'd write a quick post to show you (to coin a phrase) a few things I made earlier...

I made a mobile. Gosh it took a long time. But I'm happy with how it turned out. My favourite bit is the felt circles. You've got to love a bit of felt.

I want to make something similar for my boys but you know what it's like - there's never the time to make things for your own family and home. I'll add it to the 'one day' list!

The Little One had a party. Builder-inspired - he's nothing if not consistent, that one. So I made him a builder's cake (chocolate on the outside, yellow on the inside as specified) using Nigella's custard birthday cake recipe.

I also made some snack-time cheese biscuits in the shape of crane hooks (hooks are a big thing round here lately), a long rocky road for the builders to drive on (a big success; broken up for the 'grown ups' to eat), builder biscuits and rice krispie chocolate boulders. It was a morning-only party as the village Jubilee street party picnic was calling on us all at lunchtime. I wish the Jubilee happened every year - it's a lot less stressful having a shorter party with no meal to provide!

I have more to show you, but that's for another time!

In which I tell the truth

It has been very quiet around here lately...

Too much to do, too much mess. Random, metaphorical messy straw photo above to illustrate this.

Are any of you still out there? I have a few truths to tell you...

• My husband has been on crutches for several weeks. It has been like having another child to look after, only worse as I've had no one to help with the real children. Things are getting better now, but it was such a full-time job that the blogging experienced an emergency stop.
• I hated it at first. I missed the writing for the creativity and for the moments it gave me to feel so truly myself. I missed the reading of everyone else's blogs to feel inspired and to feel in touch with a community of like-minded crafters and writers out there.
• But then something changed. I had been feeling so overwrought with things to do each day. I had been feeling that each role in my life was hitting a ceiling of 80% success and I didn't have the time to devote to anything to do better. I hate feeling unsuccessful. I hate not feeling on top of things.
• I think that maybe, with showing you the best of me and my life on the blog, I neglected to tell you the truth of the neglect in my real life. Maybe that's a bit of a calamitous way to put it. But some days I was fighting so hard just to get the breakfast things washed and tidied up before dinner time. I'm not kidding. And it wasn't rare. Don't even get me started on the ironing mountain, the dust graveyard on all the shelves, the dinner I didn't defrost in time, and the constant, constant forgetfulness and breaking of promises.
• Without the reading and writing in the blogosphere, suddenly I've been having some really good days. Some on-top-of-things days. Some 90% days. It's been so good.
• One day I made a banana cake, gardened with the boys, tidied the house, made time for my friends, and made a batch of chutney. In one day! I suddenly felt like I fitted into my skin. I had stopped drowning in all the things I had to do and could never catch up with. I started to swim. Heck, some days I even started to surf!
• But I do still miss it, this writing. In an ideal world, I would be able to do it all. I think that ideal world might come into being once the Little One is at nursery part-time. And then, knowing me, I'll probably wish I didn't have time to do it all and instead had him at home with me all the time, living back in the chaotic glory of having two darling little ones around.

So here's what I propose... no more posting most days, or even every other day. How about once or twice a week, a big newsletter-style catch-up? It's only a few months until the Little One goes to nursery and then we'll reassess. What do you think?

And as to the reading of all the other blogs... well I'll get back to that at some point. I like to read them for their own sake.

Obviously reading and commenting around the blogosphere helps generate readers here. But I don't want to be a salesman any more. If you happen to find me and like what you read, please do read on, please do come again. I will try to be good to you; I will certainly be welcoming. And I can promise you I prefer the quality of faithful reader-friends to the quantity of capricious reader-acquaintances.

Things are changing around here. That 80% ceiling is coming crashing down.