The Pleasure of Making for Babies

I've belatedly realised that you may possibly mis-read the blog title ..... read it again ....... there is a little word for in there :P

My blogging Mojo has been sorely lacking just recently and I know people will understand why. However, the longer I've left it, the harder it's been to blog! There seems to be so many things I aught to write about that it's a bit over-whelming. For instance, I need to respond to Joy's blog award from ages ago and also report on how I've got on with Callie's give-away. I will!!  I promise!  Eventually :)

So, in an effort to get back into the swing of things, I thought I'd blog about two recent things I made during July and August for two new babies. The first baby is called Yeratel and was born when we were on holiday in July. But she was four weeks early and a tiny, tiny tot. Her Dad is the Curate at my Church and is one of the kindest people I know. I didn't find out about her birth until just after Dad died and I attended a week-day service, as much to mark Dad's passing in my own way as anything else. It was a surprise to hear that Yeratel had already been born but I was so delighted to find out that she was OK and doing well. The weekend after Dad passed away and I was down in the dumps, I couldn't help but think of this new little girl and suddenly wanted to make something to welcome her into the world.

In an edition of the Cross-Stitcher from last year, there had been a pattern for making some baby booties from felt and I decided to give it a go. I already had some pink felt, so that was easy. However, I really needed some waste canvas to be able to stitch cross stitches on the felt, but I didn't have any! I improvised by trying to stitch through a paper pattern ....... don't!!! ...... it doesn't work!! In the end, I did the stitching free-hand, so if you look closely, one little duck is slightly bigger than the other!!

I also happen to be someone who never throws anything away!! I had kept some lovely sturdy little boxes, so I covered one in pink wrapping paper and attached a little bit of pink ribbon ...... ribbon that I had saved from a card or something or other ....... remember, I never throw anything away!!

And voila! A special gift for a special little girl :)

Then, in August, a little boy called James Aidan was born to my Vicar and his wife. My vicar, Stuart, is also a lovely guy! Not at all like the description that Rowan Atkinson recently gave for Anglican Vicars :)

Even though he is not the Vicar for my Dad's parish, he very kindly took Dad's funeral service and that personal touch meant a great deal to me and to Mum and my brother.

So, with one pair of booties under my belt, I just had to make a blue pair for little James!

This time, I didn't have any blue felt, so ordered a whole load of colours from The Felt Fairy. This time, I also thought I'd buy some waste canvas and do things properly!!

Sewing on felt using waste canvas is really the only way to do it. The cross stitching took much less time to do and also ends up perfectly even. The only tricky bit is that, once the stitching is complete, you have to dampen the waste canvas so that the warp and weft threads separate and you can pull them out, leaving behind the nicely even cross stitches. Unfortunately, dampening the felt makes it shrink slightly. As a consequence, the top of these blue booties are a little flatter than with the pink booties.

Note to self ...... if I do anything like this again, pre-shrink the felt first!!

All the same, I still quite pleased with how they turned out.

I also forgot to mention that for both the pink and the blue booties, the buttons were from my button box ..... another thing I never throw away :)

Mind you, I'm not entirely sure the finished item is actually meant to be worn! I'm not sure they'd stay on a little one's feet!!

Once again, I covered a sturdy little box but obviously with blue paper this time ...... and I forgot to mention that I added a little gift label inside.

And, once again, a little bit of recycled ribbon to add a finishing touch to the box.

A long life and happiness to little Yeratel and James :)

A Tribute to Dad

.... and possibly an exploration of how grief is an odd thing.

I had every intention of reporting on Dad's funeral that took place on Friday 5th August, as both my brother Paul and I gave tribute speeches for him, but I found that I couldn't! Initially, my excuse was that I wanted to get express permission from Paul to put his words here but, even after he said it was OK, I still couldn't bring myself to do it. Why? I didn't immediately know!

Mind you, I also haven't felt like making any blog entries of any sort or wanted to look at any of the many blogs I list here as my favourites; I just haven't felt like it! I think I might have gone onto one or two after seeing posts on Facebook, and made one or two comments but my usual curiosity to see what people are up to has just evaporated.

At which point, I'm afraid that this post might end up sounding a little self-indulgent ...... but who cares! No one really reads my rubbish so I guess my words are between me, my Dad and God! I have realised that I have been in a limbo land where it hasn't sunk in that Dad has gone and, indeed, apart from when Dad actually died, I haven't really been able to cry, not even at the funeral. I have had flash-backs of the week when he was ill .... expressions on his face ....... the things we tried to do to support him .... and somehow it feels like it either didn't happen or the reality of specific things that happened have almost vividly jumped into my consciousness and slapped me in the face, but then still seemed unreal in an odd way.

I also said to Mum that I would take care of filling in all the probate forms for Dad. I've done this once before, when my Aunt Marion died in 2001, and despite what solicitors might want to tell you, it's a quite straightforward process. However, I have kept putting it off! However, at the beginning of this week, I felt that I couldn't put it off any more and I'd just best do it! As I thought, it was quite straightforward and on Tuesday afternoon, I actually took all the forms and went up to the Probate Court on Chancery Lane to hand deliver the documents; I didn't dare to trust even Recorded delivery as the consequences of Dad's will being lost in the post are just too awlful to contemplate! But coming back on the train, it dawned on my why I had been putting if off. Sorting out probate is one more process of almost 'clearing' Dad away. I have been conscious of how little of Dad remains to let anyone know that he ever existed ..... and yes, I know, someone (even me!) will say that he 'exists' whilst we remember him and we (I guess I mean Paul and I) are here because of him and have been shaped by his existence, so he is still here. Still, I have been having some very deep thoughts about what existence is all about and what in life really matters. But sorting out probate has been one more reality check that he has gone. I felt so upset on Tuesday night that I can't begin to describe how upset I felt.

A couple of weeks after Dad's funeral, someone asked me whether things were back to normal! I was taken aback by this! Do people actually think you should be 'back to normal' almost as soon as the funeral has happened? At that time, I hadn't even really processed that it had happened, and here I was last Tuesday as upset as I was on the day he died, with the six weeks between a surreal non-time.

So ..... perhaps I am getting a little closer to realising that Dad really has gone and that the funeral did happen and that I should now publish our tributes.

On the morning of Dad's funeral, I went over to Tesco to get fresh bread. I saw Doug over there and I said how Paul and I wanted to say tributes for Dad; that I always thought that people possibly thought of my Dad as being the quiet, unnoticed one but that I wanted to say what he really meant to us. Even saying this to Doug, I could feel my lip starting to tremble and I wondered whether I'd be able to do it!

When we were travelling to Enfield Cremetorium, I started to 'will' myself not to cry as I was pretty sure that if I cried, I wouldn't be able to say anything. The long approach avenue when you get onto the Cremetorium grounds has always been the point where I can easily start to cry but somehow I managed not to.

Once there, we realised we were early and the chief undertaker, who was actually very good and very nice, asked whether we wanted to wait outside or maybe go into the waiting room? However, make a decision!! Right at that point in time, decisions were out!! We were saved by the arrival of my vicar, Stuart, who suggested we go in and listen to the introduction music, perhaps a couple of times. Whilst the music was playing, in what seemed to be a split second of time, I heard a noise which alarmed me but I also couldn't think what it was. In that same split second, I realised that it was my brother sobbing. It was a sound that I've never heard before and never want to hear again but his anguish reached into the core of my being and I felt like someone had grabbed hold of my insides and sharply twisted them. Still trying for all I was worth not to cry myself, I stretched my hand out to try to comfort him. For a moment, I was Big Sister again :)  I always did hate to see Paul upset. I suddenly didn't want him to start getting worried about whether he would be able to say his tribute.

Father Stuart had recommended that we say our tributes as the very first thing that happened in the service. So, after his opening welcome and prayer I said the following:

Before we pay tribute to Dad, on behalf of all the family, I want to thank you all for coming and for the support you have shown. We are sad that Dad’s brother and sister, Jim and Nell, and Jim’s wife Olive can’t be with us today. However, all three are in poor health and the long journey would have been too much for them. We wish them well and know they are with us in spirit.

My brother then read out the following tribute. Given that he had been so choked up just a short while before, I am amazed that he managed to say it. He is amazing :)

My dad was a shy, retiring man and would be most embarassed at the attention he is getting today.
He was hard-working and very much a family man, preferring to stay at home rather than socialising.
He was always there whenever we needed him.
I can remember that he used make my models for me as a young child and this encouraged me then to make my own.
As a young teenager, rebuilding my push-bike was difficult because parts were jammed together. I was in big trouble. I could not see a way out.

So, dad took them to work and managed to dissemble the parts and to my surprise i woke up the next morning and found these parts separated out next to my bed side. It must have been his tea- break, he then went back to work.

In later years any project that i was involved in, my dad always was keen to help.

I can especially remember this trait still showing through his Alzeimer's during a difficult time when I had to remove my car engine to perform big repairs to it. Every day he would join me because he just wanted to support and help me. He could sense that i was in trouble.

To the rest of the world he was just an ordinary man. But to me he was my dad who i loved and will miss forever.
He is now at home where he always wanted to be.


I then said the following:

When someone you love gets Alzheimer’s, it is very easy to get totally wrapped up in coping with the symptoms of the disease so that you lose sight of the real person. However, Dad was so much more than the Alzheimer’s and we tried to make allowances for the behavioural problems it caused because we knew this wasn’t really him but the disease.


When Dad’s needs were such that he had to be cared for in Silver Birches, our biggest fear was that the staff would only see his difficult behaviour and would, quite frankly, not like him! So, two years ago, I wrote a poem to hang in his room to give them a flavour of all the things that had happened in his life and an idea of the ‘real’ Dad; my Gentlemanly Dad would have been horrified by what the disease was doing to him.

In actual fact, our fears were totally ungrounded. Many of the staff at Silver Birches, some of whom are here today, have become like extended members of the family and have treated Dad with consideration, tolerance, patience and respect. We deeply Thank You all.

Nevertheless, the poem still describes many of the things that were important in making him the person we knew and I would like to read it to you. It is entitled ‘Beyond What You See Now’.

Beyond What You See Now

Please see beyond what you see now

Consider days gone by

A cheeky little ginger lad

The apple of Mum’s eye.

Work started at just fourteen years,

Learned the tool-maker’s trade

But Spurs and football were first loves

For amateur teams he played.

By twenty-six, a handsome man

Blue eyed and flame-red hair.

A so smart groom, he weds my Mum

In love, a handsome pair.

When babies come, see a proud Dad

Cradle his infants small,

See strong hands oh so gentle now

He loved Elaine and Paul.

Through all the years a breadwinner

In work he takes great pride

With hardly ever a day off sick

For him, no easy ride.

A quiet, private man at heart,

His thoughts kept to his chest.

Yet if you said you needed help,

He’d be there, give his best.

He always had to be on time,

Annoyed if slightly late.

But good manners meant everything,

Politeness a strong trait.

A fit man, playing football ‘til

His forties nearly pass.

He loved to decorate his home,

D.I.Y. of top class.

His only grandson makes him proud,

Over the park they go.

To play with football or the swings,

Come back faces aglow.

He’d walk for miles though 70 plus,

Despite disease progressing.

Could wear out people half his age.

The need to ‘Go Home’ pressing.

Alzheimer’s takes no prisoners,

To disease he must bow.

Yet the Old Dad lives in our hearts,

Beyond what you see now.

By Elaine Maul for her Dad, Ron Lawrence

The service today will end with ‘Going Home’ sung by the Fron Male Voice Choir. This is often played at funerals but the anxiety and insecurity caused by the Alzheimer’s meant that Dad was always wanting to Go Home even if he was at home. He was searching for the security that Home represents. Well, he has now Gone Home at last and he is at peace. However, he always gave us the security of knowing that he was there At Home for us whenever we needed him. We give Thanks to God that he was our Dad and for everything we shared and all he did for us. We all love you Dad and will miss you. 
 
I have read the poem out loud to my Mum before, when I first wrote it two and a half years ago, and we both had a cry at the time. There are key points in it that always bring a lump in my throat and, again, I willed myself not to cry. This effort worked maybe a little too well as I found that, once sitting down, the service continued and I couldn't cry at all! Apart from a little when Going Home played at the end.
 
On the way home, my brother was worried that people thought he had been laughing at the beginning of the service! I assured him that was the last thing they thought! However, I did say we made a right pair; he worried that he'd cried too much and I worried because I hadn't! Grief is a funny thing .......

My Dad Passed Away on Saturday 23rd July

Dad - Christmas 2005

It is with a heavy heart that I have to blog that my poor Dad, Ron Lawrence, passed away on Saturday 23rd July.

We had been away on holiday, getting back on Saturday 16th July and on the Sunday 17th, Mum said that Dad seemed a little unwell but they were monitoring his vital signs up at Silver Birches and these weren't giving any concern. However, on the Monday afternoon at about 3.30pm, Mum called to say that he had been taken over to A&E as his temperature had started to go up. I met Mum up at the hospital. He'd had a chest x-ray but it was inconclusive as to whether it was a chest infection or pneumonia. However, they were giving him a strong antibiotic in any case. He was moved surprisingly quickly up to Toronto ward at Chase Farm hospital in Enfield.


Mum and Dad's Wedding - 16th March 1957. Dad aged 26

On Tuesday 19th July, I decided to only be in work in the morning and got up there first at 2pm; Mum and my brother were going to get up there slightly later. I'd not long got there when a doctor asked to speak to me. Dad had not responded to the antibiotics at all which basically meant that his immune system couldn't get over the infection and that this was probably going to be his final illness. I must add ..... she wasn't as brutal as I've put it here! She was actually very nice and I am paraphrasing what she said! This was an enormous shock.
On Tuesday evening at 11.30pm, the hospital phoned me as Dad's oxygen levels had got very low. However, they said we didn't need to come up straight away but just to come in first thing on Wednesday morning. So, for the rest of the week, my Mum, my brother Paul and I went up the hospital every day from about 8am in the morning until about 7.30 - 8.00pm just to sit with Dad and talk to him and be with him. He did rouse a few times. On either Tuesday or Wednesday (but I think it was Wednesday) he roused and I could actually see that he recognised me; he has only done so from time to time over the past 6 months to a year. I can't begin to tell you what this meant to me.

The nurses and doctors on Toronto ward were brilliant. Nothing was too much trouble. They took a lot of care over making sure Dad was comfortable, turning him to prevent sores and regularly changing him. If we saw Dad screw his face up, a possible sign of pain, they were quick to give him a dose of painkillers. We also had several good discussions with the palliative care nurse so we were fully involved in what was going on and all the options at every step of the way. They also looked after us by bringing cups of tea. I can't begin to say how fantastic they all were.

Me (2 years old), Dad (30 years old), my brother Paul (3 weeks) in 1961

On Saturday 23rd July, we got into the hospital as usual at just after 8am and Dad's breathing was much more laboured. We played some music for him and I had taken in some smelly massage oil after a brilliant suggestion from a nurse and I was putting this on his arms and shoulders. At about 9am, I was mopping his brow because he seemed a little clammy and I can't say what caught my attention, but I alerted Mum and Paul that I thought something was different; his breathing had definitely taken on a different quality to it. We were able to tell him we loved him and then he took a couple of slower breaths, paused, then took another breath ...... and then he passed away at about 9.10am. It was very peaceful. I hope he heard us. We were obviously all very upset but I am so glad we were with him at the end.

It has all happened so quickly that it hasn't really sunk it, even now. Although Dad had Alzheimer's, he was still mobile and able to feed himself. He only needed assistance with toileting, washing and getting dressed. His biggest problem was that his ability to communicate was impaired which let to him getting frustrated and aggressive, things that he wasn't when he was well.

However, we just have to take some comfort that he is at peace now and has escaped from the horrible, horrible disease that is Alzheimer's. His funeral is this coming Friday 5th August. We love you Dad and will miss you. Rest in peace Dad.

XXXX

My 2nd Ginger Skirt ..... Or Is It Curtains?

Another post that I started back in July but didn't get round to posting!! Oops again!

Still ..... aught to record my second Ginger skirt even if it did take until 4th October to actually finish the post!!

My son, bless him, on seeing this skirt said 'Didn't we used to have curtains like that once Mum?'. You could go off him, couldn't you :) However, subconsciously, this comment may have had an effect as I haven't really worn this one! Mind you, although I do like the print, it is a bit difficult to find a suitable top to go with it. I'm possibly a bit too old for a bright yellow t-shirt? But I haven't been able to find a t-shirt in either the pale or dark brown you can also see in the print.

A Hat Experiment

Top Section of Sun Hat



Do you like hats? I think the 'correct' response most ladies are supposed to make is 'yes'. My sister in law, Lynne, delights in wearing hats and indeed always looks very glamorous wearing one. I'm actually sure that the main attraction for her in a wedding or a christening is the opportunity to wear a hat! Of course, weddings are the main event when hats get worn nowadays. This was most obviously evident at the recent Royal Wedding and who can forget the amazing 'hat' that Princess Beatrice wore? However, I was saddened by the vitriol some of the press gave to Samantha Cameron, our Prime Minister's wife, because she didn't wear a hat. It did cross my mind that she suffers from the affliction I have ........ a Big Head!!! :)

Yes ....... I can quite safely say that I Hate Hats  ......... because they never (almost) EVER fit!!!

When my brother got married a couple of years ago, when Lynne found out that I wasn't going to wear a hat, I think (bless her) she thought that perhaps I couldn't afford to buy a hat and offered me free range to look through her vast hat collection and borrow whatever I liked. To humour her, I did indeed look ....... but I knew what would happen. Sure enough, there was one that would have gone perfectly with the dusky pink suit I'd bought from Jacques Verte ...... but whereas on Lynne it fitted low over her brow in an almost 1920s style, with me, it perched on the top of my head in a wobbly way and one backwards tilt of my head and it was off!! Well ..... you could only laugh :)


Underside of hat, showing lining and the rip that led to James throwing these jeans out!!

Nevertheless, there are times of the year when I do have to wear a hat and that is on holiday or when out for long periods in the sun. You see, I was born a Ginger and, although the hair colour has faded and only resembles auburn thanks to the clever colouring skills of my hairdresser, I still have the fair skin that goes with being ginger and ..... boy oh boy ...... I burn very easily. 

The reverse of both layers of the hat

In my teens, our summer holiday was always accompanied by The Hat Quest! The quest to find a sun hat with a wide enough brim to shield my head and neck that would also fit! I did have a lovely straw one that was perfect and lasted for several years. However, being made of straw, it eventually started to show bad signs of wear requiring The Hat Quest to begin again.

My Mum (bless her) should have been a Girl Guide! She always has a tape measure in her bag and she would automatically measure any sun hat she came across to see if it was likely to fit! It didn't matter what it looked like! If it was big enough, it would do! Sigh!!

Of course, the observant might recall that on the 42 mile sponsored walk, I AM wearing a hat. Well, that hat is very special. Thanks to my ever observant Mum, she found an advert in one of her magazines that actually had head measurements for ladies hats. This sort of advert was (and is!) incredibly rare! Thankfully, they had my size and that beautiful cotton hat has been my saviour ever since. It was bought way, way prior to the Internet and I think the company no longer exists ...... so it must be well over 21 years old (I'm sure I had it prior to James' birth).

Anyhow, it is bearing up well but can't last for ever. John found a pattern for a sun hat and wondered if I would be interested. However, it is designed for a 21 inch head and mine is 24 inches! So ...... here comes the experiment ..... this is 9% bigger so I asked John to increase the size of the pattern pieces by 9% in Photoshop and thought I'd give it a go and see how it turned out.

I used a pair of James' jeans! They weren't very old but he'd ripped a tear in one of the legs and didn't want them. Seemed like the ideal material to try. I also made another change; my interfacing is only of medium weight so I ironed interfacing on both layers of material for the brim. I did really want to embroider some flowers in a hippyish sort of way over the denim but, given that I wasn't entirely sure the pattern would fit, I thought it would be best not to do this at this stage. This version is very much a trial run!

The instructions and photos are very clear and easy to follow. I made it up over the course of a couple of days and actually finished the last little bit last night.


Looking slightly manic wearing hat!!

How is the fit? Actually, not too bad. Funnily enough, it could possible do with being a little smaller round the head. I think I am going to have to sew in some ribbon ties as a gust of wind will blow it off!

Recognise the lining? From My first Ginger Skirt

Side shot showing crown

The crown could possibly do with being a little bit deeper. However, I'm quite pleased with how it looks. It would work well as a sun hat and would keep the sun off of both my face and my neck.

Doing a Witchy-poo impersonation. Flossie not amused :)

This last picture might mean it gets called the Witchy-Poo hat  .... but, I guess, if the hat fits ....  :)

More Oxford Canal Walking .... Back in June!!

I've just realised that I started this post back in June but never got round to completing it and posting it!! Oops!! Better do so now (4th October!!!).

So ..... way back in June, we had a lovely weekend over the 25th - 26th June at our friends' house in Bicester in Oxford. Possibly inspired(?) by our crazy training walks, they too have been increasing the amount of walking they've been doing, so on Saturday we set off from the Trout Pub in Lower Wolvercote in Oxfordshire to walk along the Oxford Canal. We didn't acutally go in this pub although we have before and they serve very good food if anyone is ever down that way. Before reaching the canal, we found this lovely pair of swans with their cygnets.

I just about managed to capture one of the adults preening.

Saturday's weather was just right for walking, neither too hot nor too cold. It seemed strange to think that we were walking along the same canal we'd walked along when staying in Coventry the previous week. Still, this end of the Oxford Canal is equally picuresque, indeed the canal is very well maintained and it is very popular with canal boats.

We walked into the centre of Oxford and, after lunch in a Wetherspoon's pub, walked through to the river Thames to walk back to where we started. At one point on the river, there was a huge gaggle of geese .... I'm pretty sure these are Brent Geese but I'm not entirely sure. We couldn't work out what was attracting such a huge group of these geese but they did look an impressive sight.



On the way back, we stopped at a lovely pub called the Perch for a drink. Do we detect a 'fishy' trend here in pub names? They wer serving lovely BBQ food in the garden, so that also looks like a pub worth visiting again!

In total, we walked 10.2 miles which was the furthest our friends have ever done. We were walking for 3hrs 45 mins at an yaverage sped of 2.7mph. A very nice day's walking.

On the Sunday, the weather was scorching hot! Although we wanted to go out for a little walk, we decided that it would be best not to go too far. So, we started at a very pretty little village called Tackley which is just north of Kidlington and walked from there to the Oxford Canal (again!).

I have no idea what this delicate, pinky coloured flower is called but it was growing very profusely along the canal edge.

Finally, here's John and I enjoying the sunshine :)

June seems so long ago ....... but we had a great weekend.

I Think I Must Have Trod In Something :)

Well ...... I must have done to have had such a string of Good Luck! It was only back in April that I won Joy's Giveaway on her blog. It was via Joy's blog that I found the blog of Mumu & Squeak's Mum, Callie. Well, I immediately warmed to someone who names her blog after her cats ...... a girl after my own heart and her blog is great! To my total surprise, I won a Giveaway she recently ran; you can see the link button on the right-hand side of my blog.

So ....... today the parcel arrived at work! Because I wanted to take a photo of it before opening it, I resisted temptation and hid it out of harms way! However, all day it beckoned from the dark depths of my bag :)

They say good things come in small packages and they are quite right :)
What a fantastic collection of goodies!

A lovely selection of cotton heart patches, a seriously cute crocheted blue flower, a lovely orange felt brooch, three skeins of floss, some gorgeous wooden buttons and not forgetting a cotton bag. Absolutely lovely! Thank you so much Callie.

We are going away on holiday tomorrow, so this will be going with me as an extra holiday project. For some time now, I have been playing with the idea of creating some sort of modern sampler so I can practice some of the embroidery stitches in this book.

I think this just might be the project! I am thinking ........ a mass of all sort of different stitches and obviously also incorporating all the bits and pieces Callie has sent me ....... ummm ....... this should be fun :)

Thank you again Callie :)