Weetim ( Mother of the Year: 2)

I made a doll version of Jemma's boyfriend for her to give him for Christmas.

Three days of awesome fun with teeny pockets and even teenier neckbands. Strips of leather and tweaks and do-overs and bits that were almost exactly but not-quite......

Dreadlock dilemnas

and tattoo embroidery kept me awake at nights

Flanno shirts and arse slouchy jeans,

teeny T-shirts,

And faithful hounds,

made me wish ( not for the first time) that there were government grants for farting about in the sewing room. Cause just between you and me, I totally nailed the farting about.

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Mother of the Year (1)

It went slightly pear -shaped today with the call from Jemma ( can you believe she is 22 ?) asking for a lift to the hospital to get her wrist X-rayed. She seemed pretty blase about it, having hurt it last night. DO NOT feel sorry for her, the injury involved drinking games and cartwheels. ( We've all been there)

Yep, broken and awaiting plaster in a few days once the swelling goes down. Its not a great addition to Summer but ........you know...... Cartwheels....

The whole catastrophe threw my baking schedule into complete disarray but its all done now. I had planned to pop in today and be all warm and wise and full of the Christmas spirit , instead I am a bit dressing gown , sticky note reminders and totallly knackered.

(Thats my gingerbread rendition of Jemma)

I do hope that you have a great day tomorrow or now or yesterday or whenever it might happen for you if it is your thing. If its not your thing I hope you get some down-time to yourself to do something relaxing and slightly wonderful. I made THE BEST Christmas present ever this week ( yeah it took me about three days to make but I love it and I'll show it to you soon.)

 

Until then... Embrace the crazy.

( trust me- it truly is the only way)

 

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The minimalist guide to Christmas

 

They say it is the thought that counts

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Oh Christmas tree

This year, with the kids all moved out I realised I could actually have one of those beautiful balanced Christmas trees. I could leave the glitter coated egg carton blobs in the box and fill my tree with lovely things.

( All these photos are from my good friend Morgan's shop - The Crafty Squirrel)

Which is all good in theory. The reality is, I haven't even bought a tree yet and feel fairly disinclined to go to town and buy a tree and erect the tree and decorate the tree and keep the cats off the tree and stop the dog drinking the water of the tree and then vacuum up fifty five bajillion pine needles from the tree, then dispose off the tree.

but at the same time I love the smell of real Christmas trees and it would feel extremely weird to have no tree at all......

Anyway while I have been farting about thinking of trees I have made you guys a little present. I should be taking photos right now but instead I am here discussing the tree again. ( Mr Ric Rac has stopped listening). If you want to, pop up there and sign up to the newsletter and tomorrow when its all done, I'll send you a little bit of cute-but-useless.

If you think this is bad wait until I start on evening up the childrens gift piles.

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Happiness is:

A long overdue date with Mr Gocco

All the ghosts

I am feeling a bit discombobulated at the moment. I won't bore you with my existential angst, but suffice to say I don't even have a Christmas list.

Oh in years gone by I had lists that would make you weep. I cross-referenced and I colour coded. The list was a mightly beast and it was long lived. Months of work went into the list, endless planning and changing and perfecting. There was no person, no gift, no awkward hardly-known Kris Kringle or Secret Santa that the list could not serve.

I was the queen of Christmas, the handmade cards were sent in November, ( there was a list so no-one was forgotten) ,the hand made wrapping paper which matched the THEME was made months in advance. I had last minute gifts, spare gifts and even a few dozen kiddy Kris Kringles in reserve so none of the kids at school missed out. I was like a human Pinterest board of glitter fuelled Christmas cheer.

The ghost of Christmas-now would hate the ghost-of-Jodies-past . She was a candy-caned fuelled pain in the arse. The ghost of Christmas now discuss practical vacuum-like gifts with grown children. She looks at value-for-money and finds herself buying things that they won't buy for themselves, like new sheets. She is not happy about this. She wants to buy Lego and potato guns and stupid zombie stuff.

Discombobulated

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