Crafty Corner--my new phone holder

 Hello lovelies! I have been crafting like crazy lately, thanks to my friend Kirsty who found me several huge bags of curtains, duvet covers and sheets for fabric. It has inspired me to finally get in there and reorganise my craft room for easier project making. I bought several hugh-jass clear storage tubs at B&M Bargains for all my new fabric and I found all kinds of stuff I didn't even remember I had.

I have been working with clay, painting rocks and sewing this week after work and it feels great.

During lockdown I noticed that my phone case was beginning to go. I knew I wanted to craft a replacement but wasn't sure how to do it. While I was home with no place to go, I watched dozens of tutorials about how people made phone cases.

I had a great idea to make a little slip in envelope sort of case made from a men's necktie which was absolutely adorable, but extremely impracticable. I am a butterfingers. There is a reason i have the sort of case that is like a little book with a front cover because I drop my phone ALL THE TIME. I tried sewing a little pocket one and promptly dropped my slippery as an eel phone the moment I tried to get it out of its cute little envelope. I decided it would made a cute i-pod holder instead. 

So I began to look at only tutorials for the flip case style. This is what I found.

Some were paper--a terrible idea in wet Wales.

Some were cloth with cardboard inside for stiffness--also a bad idea in the country that never seems to stop raining.

Most were just glued together/no sew--I wanted to do a combination of sewing with a bit of gluing.

Some had little tiny strips of elastic in the corners to precariously hold your phone in--yeah, that is an accident waiting to happen.

Finally, I was allowed to go back to work and I just put up with my slightly raggedy phone case while i pondered and schemed. Finally--as so many good ideas do---it came to me in a dream.

Not a crack-ass dream but a craft-ass dream. I could use the little snap-in case that sits in the book part of the case and craft around it. No precariously placed strips of flimsy elastic for me! I could sew a cover and cut a little peephole for the camera. I could fill it with a bit of a soft old blanket to give it some padding and then instead of cardboard, I could use some craft foam that I found in my clean up. It would give it some flexible, waterproof stability.

I dug out this pretty fabric that came from a  sort of Indian-print throw and started planning. I added iron on interfacing for stiffness and used my phone case as a tracing pattern. I debated about adding little pockets but 1) that would be a faff and 2) I never really used them on my old phone case. 

I decided to add the classic button and elastic clasp because it is easy to make and looks nice. Who doesn't love a big decorative button??? 

Here it is: Ta-da!

 In the inside after sewing, I hot glued the slip-in case from my old phone case because it was still in good condition.

Now, here it is with the phone in--I really need to clean my screen. Also, this would be a good time to mention that is is impossible to take a photo of your phone with your phone. I had to resort to the camera and then tediously download it and edit it on the computer. My phone makes taking pictures so much easier!

I also closed it with a very nice rolled edge that I hand sewed. 

Now from the back--peek-a-boo! 

I am really proud of it...it is beautiful and hand made and exactly like how it was in the dream. It is soft to cushion the inevitable falls and when it wears out I will be able to make another one. I love that it is made from upcycled materials and it cost me nothing to make. 

Hoorah for crazy crafts! 

Dreaming of the Past

Hello lovelies. I have had another one of my "crack-ass" dreams as Spiderman calls them. I had it the other night, but the dream stayed with me so I thought it was worth reporting.

I know it was triggered by three things--craft projects I was googling before bed, watching  Doctor Who and reading interesting posts on Facebook about Black History Month. How I joined them up in my brain is anybody's guess, but here goes.

I got a PING! notification that I had a custom order in my ETSY shop A BUNDLE OF HEATHER(shameless plug) so I logged on to my online shop to see what the order was for. It was an order for a patchwork pocketbook.  

Now, I was first struck by the use of the word pocketbook because it sounded like such an old fashioned southern word. I knew many an old white woman growing up who referred to her handbag as her pocketbook. In Langston Hughes' wonderful story Thank you Ma'am the boy Roger tries to steal the pocketbook of Mrs Luella Bates Washington Jones. (if you don't know this touching story then stop reading this blog and go {HERE} right away. Don't worry I'll wait.)

Did you read it? Did you cry at the end? Me neither (it's just dust in my eye. I swear.)

Anyway, I could tell I had an old fashioned sort of person ordering from my shop. So, I started to research how to make a cute little pocketbook. I saw this idea where you tore the cover off of a paperback book and used that for the inner bit of your purse. You put the spine on the bottom to be like the gusset of the handbag. Does that make sense? So I toddled off to the Carmarthen Free Books and picked up a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey and tore the pages out and used them to wipe my arse as that's all they are good for. Okay, that last bit isn't strictly true. Well, the bit about them only being good enough to wipe my arse is true, but I didn't actually do it. I recycled them because even in my dreams I am an eco-grrrl.

Then I went home and sewed a little patchwork pocketbook and used the book cover inside as a stiffener. Suddenly I realised I didn't know who had placed the order so I logged back onto my ETSY shop A BUNDLE OF HEATHER (shameless plug number two) and what do you know the lady who ordered the patchwork pocketbook was none other Madam C.J. Walker. 

Now, in case you don't know:
 Madam C.J. Walker was  an African-American  entrepreneur, philanthropist, and a political and social activist. Walker was considered the wealthiest African-American businesswoman and wealthiest self made woman in America at the time of her death in 1919. She developed a line of cosmetics and hair care products designed for black women. (thank you Wikipedia.) 

So my first thought was Oh! She's from the past so I won't be able to post it to her. I will have to hand deliver it somehow. 

Then I pondered How do I get to the past? I decided I had to walk backwards in the direction that was behind me (as the past is behind me). This made perfect sense in the dream. I picked up the pocketbook and walked slowly backwards until I got the library. When I got there I knew I was in the past because everything was in sepia like the Kansas part of the the film The Wizard of Oz. 

There she was...in black and white...looking just like she did in the photo selling little pots of petroleum jelly mixed with sulphur (no really, that was what she used) on the steps of Carmarthen Library. I approached and handed her the pocketbook. Our conversation was as follows:

Madam CJW: Child, that pocketbook looks beautiful. I wish I could see the colours but everything is in black and white. 

Me: Thank you. I know you can't tell, but it's mostly red and blue but there are some bits of green and yellow here and here (pointing to patchwork squares.) 

Madam CJW: Well, it's lovely. How did you make it so stiff? 

Me: (beaming) I used the cover from a paperback book of Fifty Shades of Grey. 

Madam CJW: What's a paperback book? 

Me: (sheepishly thinking to myself) Oh no....the first paperback wasn't published until the 1930's. 

Madam CJW: Here's your money (she hands me one dollar) 

So I took the dollar and wondered how much it was worth in current money as I walked back to town. I walked forward this time and it went from black and white to colour somewhere around the market which is halfway home. 

Then I woke up. 

Interestingly enough, when I awoke I went to an online INFLATION CALCULATOR and it turns out that $1 in 1910 would have been worth $26.43 in 2018. Not too shabby. 

So we had some time travel (straight out of a Jack Finney novel) where i got to meet someone I have always admired. 

Do you ever dream about meeting famous people from the past? Who would you like to meet? 

Law and Order SVU (Snail Victims Unit)

I had a dream last night.

This is not unusual. I dream vividly every night. A few nights ago, I had a terrible nightmare that I left bread baking in our oven and went off to Canterbury Cathedral with my in-laws who were here on holiday and our house burned down killing the Spiderbabes and the Bronte snail GALS.

No, this was one of my “crack-ass” dreams (as Spiderman calls them.)

                              

I am a firm believer that your everyday life bleeds into your dreams. We have been watching DVD marathons of Law and Order  from seasons 3-7. The good ones—the ones with Jerry Orbach as Detective Lennie Briscoe. I have such a crush on him. 

Anyway, in this dream Charlotte Bronte the snail was on trial for murder of a homeless man. I missed all the Law part…I did not dream of her arrest, only the Order part where she was actually on trial. She was being defending by Jack McCoy (played by Sam Waterston) and the prosecutor was Tovah Feldshuh (she is on many episodes as a lawyer). I think of all the lawyers that have repeat parts on the show my dream picked her because she is also in another favourite show Crazy Ex Girlfriend playing Rachel Bloom’s mother.

Interestingly, as I write this I have just realised that the roles were reversed—on the show McCoy always is the prosecutor, not the defence. In the dream, he was the defence.

Much of the dream is lost into the ether, but a few fragments remain which I will try to recreate them for you.

                      

They had Charlotte in her little terrarium on the witness stand.

Tovah Feldshuh: Where were you the night John Doe was murdered?

Charlotte: (eats lettuce)

Tovah Feldshuh: I ask you again, where were you?

Charlotte: (eats lettuce)

Jack McCoy: Your honour, she’s a snail. She can’t talk.

Judge: Sit down, Mr McCoy. The witness must answer the question.

Charlotte: (eats lettuce)

Jack McCoy: The witness can’t answer! She’s a snail, for God’s sake!

Judge: Pipe down, Mr McCoy or I will find you in contempt.

Tovah Feldshuh: Permission to treat as hostile, your honour?

Judge: Permission granted.

Tovah Feldshuh: (takes lettuce leaf away)

I don’t remember what else happened here, but the next bit I remember was this.

Tovah Feldshuh: You claim your name is Charlotte but isn’t it true you are both male and female. A hermaphrodite!

Jack McCoy: Objection! Irrelevant!

Tovah Feldshuh: Goes to credibility, your honour. If the witness lied about this, then we can show she lied about other things.

Jack McCoy: The witness can’t lie. She’s a snail!

Judge: Overruled. I’ll allow it. Answer the question, Miss Bronte.

Charlotte: (eats lettuce)

Tovah Feldshuh: Isn’t it true that as a Giant African Land Snail that you are a menace to society, eating everything that gets in your path?

Jack McCoy: Objection!

Tovah Feldshuh: Giant African Land Snails have been known to decimate crops. Is that what you did to John Doe? Did you decimate him, too?

Jack McCoy: Objection! She’s badgering the witness! Snails don’t eat people! They are vegetarians! Besides, that’s not even what happened to the victim.

Judge: Calm down, Mr McCoy. I’ll allow it.

The rest of the trial is a blur, but the ending I remember clearly.

Judge: Madame forewoman, you have deliberated for three days. Is there any indication that if you have more time, you will be able to reach a verdict?

Forewoman: No, your honour. We are deadlocked.

Judge: Then I have no recourse, but to declare a mistrial. (bangs gavel) The jury is dismissed.

The last bit of the dream took place in Adam Schiff’s office. In the show they always end with him saying something pithy in his trademark gruff way. God bless Steven Hill who was a wonderful character actor in this role.

Adam Schiff: Well, you got the snail off. Until the next trial.

Jack McCoy: I heard it was eleven to one. Eleven people could clearly see that a small snail couldn’t have possibly stabbed a homeless man 37 times. Snails can’t hold a knife. They’ve got no arms!

Adam Schiff: One holdout, eh? Must have been a gardener.

So, this is what happens when you watch too much crime drama from the 1990’s.

You get crack-ass dreams.

Vision Quest

I don't do new year's resolutions. I just don't think they work. People start off with good intentions and real life gets in the way and the promises you made on January 1st just melt away. Most of them are quite negative anyway. I like to do something positive.

For the last few years I have made a vision board.  Basically, it is an excuse to cut and glue stuff, but with a purpose.

I always save back magazines, fliers etc and cut the letters out and file them alphabetically in a craft organiser (no, really) and use them to make interesting things. I really like that "ransom note" look! You'd be surprised how many magazines you can get for free. Our local Tesco one has every few months and the Health Food Shops give one away, too.

Aside from interesting letters, I also start saving interesting phrases. Words that speak to me and tell me what I want to do in the upcoming year or who I want to be. Qualities that I would like to cultivate or attitudes I would like to see more of.

Here is my board for this year:

I am cheap so I did it on the back of last year's vision board. That's why there are coloured triangles in the corners--not to be decorative, but to cover up the blue-tac!

I know it is a bit woo-woo, but it really makes me feel better and more empowered over the year. I put it up in my craft room near my desk, so I can see it as I am sewing or makings cards or writing in my journal. Every morning when get my exercise clothes from in there, I read it and think about how I will achieve these goals for that day. Right there I have already begun because exercise fulfils the phrases your body is designed to move and feel good every day and be well.  

 What are your goals for the new year? How will you achieve them? Why not try making a vision board to help you be clear about who you want to be in 2017. 

Unwitting

I had another one of my funky dreams last night.

"No you didn't," Spiderman replied as I was telling him this morning in bed.

But I did.

It was a weird half American/half British dream where it seemed perfectly normal for things to be mixed. It was only on waking and thinking about it that I thought, "That could never happen!"

So the dream:

We were in the car park of a large Tesco Superstore (British) on Highway 28 east, Pineville Louisiana (American).

We had a huge amount of groceries and some small tables and chairs that we had bought and we thought "How will we ever get this home? It is too heavy to carry."

I remember saying to Spiderman, "Why are towns set up so you can't walk everywhere like you can in the UK?" (So I must have known I was in America) and then Spiderman went off to find the freephone that  all British supermarkets have to be able to call a taxi. So we must have been in Britain.

A few minutes later he drove up in a maroon four door car. It was definitely  a right hand drive car so the car was British. I was confused as we haven't driven in over a decade and neither of us have a valid drivers licence, but we did in America so this must be America. I asked where the car came from and Spiderman said:

"I went to the freephone and it was out of order and this bloke asked me if i needed a car. He said he could get me one. Tesco must have a car hire service now. Anyway, I paid him £10 and he came back with a car." The use of the word bloke, the term car hire instead of rent-a-car and the £10 made me think this was now Britain.

I recall thinking, that I had never heard about Tesco's new hire car service before. As we were driving down Highway 28 east, I started to look around and notice that the car seemed strangely lived in. There was a scrunched up McDonald's bag on the floor and a car seat in the back.

I also noticed that there was no key.

"Where's the key? How did you start the car without a key?"

His reply:

"There was no key when the bloke brought it over to me. He told me to be careful and not let it stall out or I wouldn't be able to get it started again."

That seemed perfectly reasonable to me. But suddenly I had a thought:

"Once we get it home, how are you supposed to return the car? Do you have to drive it back to Pineville to return it? How will you get back home again if you can't call a taxi?"

His reply:

"No, don't worry. The bloke said I could just abandon the car anywhere and someone would be round to pick it up."

Something was niggling me, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.

It was at this point in my retelling that Spiderman began to sing Punk Rock Girl by the Dead Milkmen.
You know, the line that goes:

We hopped into a car
Away we started rolling.
I said 'how much you pay for this',

she said 'nothing man it's stolen.'

Then we were pissing ourselves laughing (not literally--we were still in bed) and I never did discover if the dream-me ever figured out that we had just unwittingly stolen a car to take all of our stuff home from the Tesco in Pineville. 

So that was my dream. Spread over two countries, undoubtedly triggered by my Mum and Carl's recent visit. 

Sweet dreams. 

The Road To Hell

I had a nightmare the other  night.

A driving nightmare.

A driving at night, nightmare.

A driving at night on the road to hell, nightmare.

Where did this come from? Who knows. I haven't driven a car in over a decade. I have *never* driven a car in the UK.

I am not sure I even could drive here.

Everything is on the wrong side for me. They drive on the opposite (wrong!) side of the road.

Even the inside of the car is on the opposite (wrong again!) side for me.


I have always had issues with my left and right. When driving in the US I *always* wore a hair scrunchie on my left wrist so I could tell them apart quickly.

Imagine having to do that on the opposite side of everything?

Um....no thanks. I am sure the people are Britain are breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Plus even when I used to drive in the US, I never enjoyed it. I am NOT a petrol head. The reasons are this are two fold.

1) Driving always killed my back. When you are a shortie with a broken coccyx sitting in a bucket seat designed for a tall person without a broken tailbone--well....it ain't pretty. I was in agony every time we had to drive long distances. And pretty durn uncomfortable driving short distances.

2) I have no sense of direction. At all. Zero. Zip. I am the person who literally could not find my way out of a paper bag with a map and a torch.

So being in agony, trying to tell my left from my right and trying to read signs and navigate made for a very stressed, very tense little Spider.

So anyway,  this was my dream.

I was driving a car at night down a multi lane motorway somewhere in England. I know it was England because the signs were not bilingual as they are in Wales.

It was night, visibility was very poor. It had been raining. That in itself is a REALISTIC situation a person might find themselves in.

Then it got weird.

The exit signs were all in RIDDLES. Seriously! Spiderman had to try to spot them from far away, we had to decode the riddle, I would then attempt to maneuver the car across several lanes of busy traffic and then exit. We kept wishing he had a telescope so he could see them from further away to give us more time to decode them as some of them were quite tricky.

The only riddle I can actually remember was this one:
Seven chickens turn thrice widdershins. What am I?
Answer:



Seriously, they were all like that. And what's up with the use of the archaic word widdershins? I only knew it meant anti-clockwise from reading the book/watching the excellent miniseries Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. Because that is how Richard Mayhew has to summon the Marquis De Carabas for the Lady Door.

the wonderful Patterson Joseph as the Marquis



So basically, I woke up in a cold sweat with my heart hammering away like an armed policeman.

Spiderman thought it was hysterical and said,
What do you get when you cross a spider with a fruitcake?
Answer: YOU

Later I was able to laugh about it. But more than anything, I am thankful to live in a nation, in a country, in a town that encourages and allows public transportation and walking.

Because if you have to stand on a street corner and surreptitiously check your left from your right or squint at buildings that may or may not be familiar to remember your way home then at least no wanker is beeping their horn at you or crashing into your tail end because you hesitated.

Elementary my dear muppet

It is no secret that I have some weird-ass dreams. Most mornings start off by me saying, "I had this weird dream last night" and Spiderman interrupting to say, "No you didn't." 

Recently I had a crazy dream about the characters from Sesame Street starring in an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Hemlock

This is clearly not an original idea, but in my dream there was some different casting.

Bert was the obvious choice for Sherlock. He could be be quite moody and intellectual on the show. In the dream he was striding around the room like Benedict Cumberbatch (you were expecting him any moment to give an impassioned speech about refugees).

If Bert was Sherlock then of course Ernie had to be Watson. Ernie always has been the comic element who keeps Bert from getting too serious (much like Martin Freeman does to Bendict Cumberbatch).

Always put-upon Prairie Dawn was the natural choice for their housekeeper/landlord Mrs Hudson. Prairie Dawn was always one of my favourite muppets because she was so sweet and ladylike until she had had too much nonsense and then she blew her top. Much like Mrs Hudson.

Cookie Monster was there as Fat Mycroft (as he is portrayed in the original stories and on the delightful Christmas episode)

Mark Gatiss as Mycroft

 This was a huge surprise as the actor Mark Gatiss is whippet-thin. 

Lastly, Grover as the well meaning but never-gets-it-right Inspector Lestrade. 

The weird thing was it was using the exact same set as the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock programme. The exact same costumes, set, props --everything. Just with muppets. 

I was just waking up as i was trying to work out what story they were filming. 

Too late...the memory faded away. But this helped us to speculate what it might have been.

Have you ever watched Monsterpiece Theatre? it is a parody of Masterpiece Theatre on PBS originally hosted by Alistair Cooke.  The Sesame Street one was hosted by Alistair Cookie who wore a smoking jacket (and smoked a pipe until the mid 80s then the pipe was cut for sending a bad message to kids) 

They show such classics as:

The Old Man and the C

The King and I (about a king and his dance partner the letter i)

Twelve Angry Men (there was a mix up--they showd Three Sad Cows followed by Two Proud Pigs instead) 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (other numbers fly as well)

The 39 Steps (where grover runs up and down a bunch of stairs and wears himself out)

and my personal favourite:

The Taming of the Shoe by William Shoespeare--famous podiatrist) Where a defiant shoe refuses to go on Grover's foot so he can walk to the Padua mall. 

If you are interested, many of these episodes are on You-Tube. Check them out. 

Anyway, with this sort of parody already in the muppet's repertoire how about these for Muppet Sherlock episodes?

A Sandal in Bohemia (perhaps a sequel to the Taming of the Shoe)

The Red-Headed League and A Study in Scarlet (insert other colours)

The Five Orange Pips and The Sign of Four(substitute other numbers) 

The Man With the Twisted Lip and The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb (substitute any other body parts) 

The Adventure of the Dancing Men (Substitute other actions like jumping, hopping, skipping etc)
The Hound of the Baskervilles (substitute other animlas like cat, cow, goat, spider, whale etc) 

And my personal favourite Holmes story: 

The Adventure of the Speckled Band (Substitute in striped, spotted, checked, chevron, flowered--any other type of clothing pattern)

So there you have it. My dream cast and suggestions for episodes. Anyone want to take me up on it? BBC? PBS? Anybody? 

Lark Rise to (cake)ford

We have a ritual. Every morning I wake up and say, "I had a dream last night"  and Spiderman replies, "No you didn't." 

This is because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that I have dreamed some weirdo dream. I have very vivid dreams and I remember nearly every one.

This latest dream was no doubt inspired by watching too many episodes in our boxset of the charming telly series Lark Rise to Candleford. 

Do you know this sweet and gentle programme? I am besotted with it. I have read the books that it is based on twice (a trilogy, beautifully written by Flora Thompson that describe people and places and life in the late 19th century. Her semi autobiographical novels perfectly capture rural life as is is slowly taken over by "progress" and mechanisation as our heroine Laura Timmins moves from the small hamlet of Larkrise to the neighbouring market town of Candleford to work as an assistant to the post mistress Dorcas Lane.)

Well in my dream I had been doing a lot of baking and bringing my treats to work. Not so unusual. The sweets were always well received and snaffled up by people who kept exclaiming "This is so delicious! I can't believe it is vegan!"  Again, not unusual. But then suddenly I was in the Candleford Post Office. It seems I work in the Candleford Post Office. OK, not quite so usual.

I bring in a batch of my brownies that always get raves when Minnie the maid  tells me there won't be a need for them.

Me: But why? You love my brownies.
Minnie:  I know but we don't need your brownies because Miss Lane has baked a cake.

Then Laura Timmins appears.

 Laura: i think what Minnie means is while we all love your baked goods, they are not real baked goods because they are not made with butter and eggs.
Me: They are so real baked goods! You liked my marmalade cake so much you asked for the recipe!
Minnie: I know. That's how we found out they weren't real. Whoever heard of a cake without butter and eggs.

Then Dorcas Lane appears.

Me: you love my cake. you told me so. Why won't you eat my brownies?
Dorcas: I am afraid that is is just not possible now that we know they aren't real. Which is rather a shame because cake is my one weakness. My own cakes often contain up to a dozen eggs. Now if you will excuse me I need to go and make calve's foot jelly. (seriously, a real thing. How do you think jell-o is made?)

Then God-fearing postman Thomas Brown appeared.
Thomas:(crams a brownie in his mouth) Well, I for one never noticed the lack of butter or eggs in Miss Heather's baked goods. ma'am. They all taste good with a cup of tea.
Me: Thank you Thomas.

Then his timid wife Margaret Brown appears.
Margaret: I had noticed a lack of butteryness in the baked good, but did not want to say for fear of causing offence.

This is when I lost it. I decided I would bake a spectacular cake, a cake like no other and enter it in the annual autumn fair that was conveniently happening on the weekend. I decided on a chocolate cherry cake.  it would be made like my well received marmalade cake but with cherry preserves mixed in.  It would have dried cherries and chunks of chocolate and a rich chocolate frosting. I would win the baking competition and then everyone from Larkrise to Candleford would know that vegan baking is real baking. 19th century or not.

But then, this is when things started to get weird. (more weird, I suppose I should say.)

Inexplicably, my oven was located in the back yard of my childhood home. Yes, literally in the middle of my back yard. Not a plug in sight. But somehow I am able to heat it up. I am having to do all my cooking outside and am concerned about pollen falling in my cake batter. I manage to make a spectacular looking batter that needs to get into the oven straightway to let the vinegar react with the baking soda so it will rise and when I open the oven it i full of stuff. Seriously. All this old metal work. Old dented pots and pans, bits if wrought iron. Dorcas Lane also owns the forge where blacksmithing is done as well as the Post Office and so I suspect sabotage. I rant and rail and try to pull all these oddments of metal out of the oven (being metal they are frightfully hot and I don't seem to have any oven gloves. i am using a large palm leaf instead) and by the time i get everything out the oven is cold and the cake has sunk and I am in no way going to win the baking contest.

it is then I wake up.

Glad to not be a vegan in the 19th century (were there even vegans in the 19th century? there were vegetarians, but vegans?)  I decided to make the cake.  I made a delicious gluten free chocolate cake with 4 TB cherry preserves and a half cup of dried cranberries that were flavoured with pomegranate juice and frosted it with a rich and creamy chocolate frosting.

It is, no matter what Candleford folk say, a real cake.

The Adventure Continues

We have some exciting news we wanted to share with you. 

 

As you know, ten years ago we took a leap of faith and set out together for a new life in a new country with only six suitcases.

 

Well……we thought we’d have a go at another country so we’re moving to Wales --this time with way more than six suitcases!

 

Spiderman has just gotten the most amazingly interesting position with the University of Wales as an archivist for the Alister Hardy Religious Research Centre on the Lampeter campus of Trinity St David as well as some reference work (like he did when he worked at the LC Library) on the sister campus in the neighbouring town of Carmarthen . We’ll be moving end of August so he can take up his new post in September! I’ll be looking for work once we get there--just like I did when we moved to Hitchin. I’m confident there will be something inspiring out there for me as well.

 Some features of interest:

 

Carmarthen has a ruined castle.

 

Merlin the magician of Arthurian legends was supposedly born in a cave outside Carmarthen.

statue of Merlin in town shopping centre

The Welsh Quilt Centre is in Lampeter.

 

The last ten years in England have been wonderful. We could not have asked for a better place to live, but Wales is so lovely and green and full of wildlife. There‘s a Puffin reserve fairly close by!!!!

Do you remember that children’s poem?

 

.There once was a puffin

Just the shape of a muffin

And he lived on an island in the

                Bright

                              Blue

                                             Sea.

 

Read the whole poem here: http://www.puffinpalooza.com/there-once-was-a-puffin/

 

Going to Wales will give us a chance for new adventures and experiences and a new language! Yes, we will be learning Welsh! Wales is a bilingual country --everything is labelled in both Welsh and English the same way Quebec is in French and English.  Most people speak a mixture of both languages so we‘re trying to learn some basic phrases now and then we‘ll take a class at the University to learn more when we get there.

 

We have thought about this prayerfully and deeply with some tears, lots of hugs and many  late night talks, but this just feels right. Like moving to England felt right. Terrifying, but exhilarating.

 

Quaker Advices and Queries 27 says:

  

Live adventurously. When choices arise, do you take the way that offers the fullest opportunity for the use of your gifts in the service of God and the community? Let your life speak. When decisions have to be made, are you ready to join in with others in seeking clearness, asking for God’s guidance and offering counsel to one another?

 

So the adventure continues!