Dublin with 2 children

We all went on an autumn holiday last week. David was working in Dublin and after much thought and angst I decided to travel with children out to see him and the fair city of Dublin.

Well I can tell you now that a city break when there is just the two of you is quite different from a city break with the addition of a 6 and 8 year old.

My 8 year old spent the whole of the flight out asking questions about what we would do when we crashed. Quite matter of fact he was, merely curious as to what the procedure would be. How will we get down from the wings once we've walked out onto them? Why do women have to take their high heels off? Where will the oxygen come from? I eventually told him to shut up.

Then there was the argument about which bed in the hotel they should have and then there was the argument about who should sit next to the window in the Dublin tourist hop on-hop off bus and then there was the sulking about walking 100 yards between the bus and the museum and then there was the tantrum about the arguments.....that was me.

Then there was the need to go to the loo 2 seconds after we'd left the museum with the free and easily accessible toilets. I won't tell you how we solved that little challenge. There was also the curious incident of not eating perfectly great food that we had paid a fortune for and me putting on weight before my very own eyes, eating it up so it wasn't wasted.

But we actually had a good time. We got to see David/Daddy. The weather was sunny. Dublin is beautiful if not that child-friendly and the 6 and 8 year old were beyond excitement at taking off and landing in an aeroplane for the first time ever (although they sulked at all the queuing when really there wasn't that much waiting around). They loved staying in a hotel for the first time ever (the room key cards held endless fascination even if there were fights and yes I mean fisticuffs as to who opened the damn door) and were wide-eyed about riding in a taxi for the first time ever ("so this is a taxi is it?" the 8 year old said in a very sarcastic tone as he got into his first Irish taxi).

Ah well perhaps we'll leave the next city break until they are 28 and 30. We'll go on our own and they can go on their own.

We love Dodos

The Fruitiques had a stall on Sunday at a craft market. It reminded us of the craft fair safari that is the fascinating world of spotting potential buyers and many non-buyers who come to our stall. We are grateful for anyone coming to visit our little world of crafts but we love some more than others! Which safari creature are you?

1) The Enthusiastic Peruser.
She, and she usually is a her, will hoot enthusiastically about a particular product. She swears she has never seen such a lovely well-crafted object in her life. The colour and the concept are brilliant. "What a great price". Ergo this must be a sure sale. But don't be lured into her web of congenial and complimentary quips of enthusiasm. She won't buy. She is a peruser and not a buyer.

2) The Fingerer.
She will examine, touch, rearrange your stall (WITHOUT PUTTING THINGS BACK IN THEIR RIGHTFUL AND CAREFULLY, 'THOUGHT ABOUT FOR 2 HOURS WHERE IT SHOULD GO' POSITION) and then move on without buying.

3)The Arnie
She will be quite encouraging. You'll be on the edge of your seat thinking you've made a sale and then the fateful words spurt out "I'll be back....once I've looked around" but you know deep deep down that she'll never be back. At least old Arnie Schwarzenegger always did come back.

4)The Dionne
Named after the famous Dionne Warwick song, these punters just 'Walk on by'. Actually I quite like these ladies. They have looked at your stall, taken it all in and know the items are not for them and just carry on walking. Some smile and some don't make eye contact. They know what they like and what they want and it ain't your stuff. Trouble is it's often the stuff on the stall next to yours that they do like and purchase!

5) The Teaser
They have picked it up; they have tried it on; they have asked their friend's opinion and they are teetering and then they wobble back from the buying precipice. They come; they tease; they bloody well don't buy.

6) The Blocker
I give you the blocker. They talk, talk, talk about their own crafting expertise but aren't really interested in your little bundles of effort. They are quite rare. Most people who talk about their crafting experiences are lovely and it's great to exchange notes. However, it gets too much when some individuals chat for 10 minutes, blocking access to your stall and preventing you from doing what little sales talk you can muster to encourage other punters to buy.

6) Raphus Cucullatus or The Dodo
It doesn't sound too complimentary of me to call this wonderful person a 'Dodo' but this extinct bird was rather lovely and very distinctive and precious. In our crafting world the Dodos aren't quite extinct but rarer than we would like. For you see these lovely ladies buy our wares. They see, they decide, they follow through and they buy. We love 'em. And we thank 'em all.

Fireworks or Christmas baubles?

My own little sparklers for Bonfire Night....sorry for the tenuous link but you know how I like to self-publicise. Or if you are thinking of Christmas presents......here are some of my own Christmas baubles, made recently.

Orange garland brooch



Blue shiny brooch

Time to sparkle

It's Bonfire Night and we will be out later with fireworks and sparklers. I will be making parkin, a traditional ginger cake, and will probably buy some toffee. Last year I tried making my bonfire toffee and it didn't set. That makes for a difficult and cursing job cleaning the baking tin. Don't know if I can take the risk this year.

We are all at sea a bit with finishing the house off with its extension or else we would have built a bonfire. I love the smell that permeates the air on Bonfire Night - explosives fill the air. There are lots of oohs and ahhs watching the rockets do their stuff. A vintage Bonfire Night is cold and crisp with lots of hot warming food like baked potatoes and mushy peas and hot stew and parkin and toffee apples and soup. Strangely it has to be soup that you can drink from a mug - ease of eating outside I suppose but I always think soup should be spooned not sipped. Someone is in charge of fireworks and there is great anticipation as the touch paper is lit. Sometimes we are pleased and sometimes we are disappointed with the resulting display. But sparklers always satisfy. Write your name in the air and run around (even if it isn't the safe done thing), trailing light.

My friend was telling me how she tried to explain Bonfire Night to some foreign guests last year. "Well you see we light a bonfire and have fireworks to commemorate the saving of the Houses of Parliament from being blown up by a Catholic and oh yes they executed the whole gang too back in the 1600s." She kind of stopped there as it all sounded rather barbaric. It used to be a lot worse - it was much more prevalent in my childhood to actually make an effigy of Guy Fawkes (the guilty Catholic) and throw him on the bonfire but that seems less PC now and not the done thing which is fair enough.

My family like it because it's tradition and gets us out eating, smiling, oohing and ahhing and of course sparkling. Just hope the rain stops!

Rapunzel Diaries 9: Mercian Regimental War Memorial

This is a tower devoted to those fallen in battle. The Sherwood Foresters were originally soldiers recruited from the counties of Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. In 1970 men from the Worcestershire Regiment joined the Foresters. And this merry and proud band of men have a tower as a memorial to their comrades fallen in battle. Sadly there are recent deaths recorded on the memorial wall from Afghanistan. 

What better way to contemplate life, death and why people have to die in wars than when looking at a wonderful, inspiring view from the top of a tower. A fitting memorial to all those who have served.

3D mapping and much more

I have a 25 inch Ordnance Survey plan of the farm where I grew up and all the surrounding land and buildings. It dates from the 60s I think. I have just had it framed. All the land that my Mum and Dad farmed is shaded in pink. I can look at every building, field, lane and even a few houses on that map and visualise instantly what those lines and symbols look like in reality. I look at the plan and see it in 3D, in colour, in textures, even in smells and sounds. If I look hard enough I can even see people.

I can see the old gate posts in the huge field in the valley bottom. I see the flat bed trailer piled high with hay bales making its delicate way up the lane to the farm to be unloaded. I can see Mrs Fleming's house, Harry's cottage and Mr Gaythorpe's farm. I can see a family having their annual party out on the lawn and I can turn through 180 degrees and drink in the view.

There are cows plodding happily up from the hilly field to be milked and the smell of silage (not that bad actually) wafting into the farmyard. There is that line of prolifically fruiting blackberry bushes just over that wall and there is the trace of the footpath, leading up to the papershop. That's the big new red barn and all is green and all is my home.

When I took the plan out of its cardboard tube and handed it over to the picture framers I noticed the name of the farm written in my Dad's handwriting on the tube. The framers cut it out and have put it at the bottom of the framed plan.

My eyes watered to see all this before me.

Inspired by a tomato

Can you spot the tomato camouflaged by our new kitchen floor tiles? Nature is brilliant. The tomato has exactly the same mottled and marbled colouring as the floor. Glad to say it didn't get splattered as we strode across said surface.