Blowing stuff up

winter reading

I've been struggling to find photos lately. We didn't do anything blogworthy at the weekend (trainer shopping and football - nearly lost the will to live in the shoe shop) and there is nothing pretty at home to be photographed. How I envy the bloggers with a little something lovely to snap. A divine candlestick, a sprig of winter blossom, lace draped artfully across some exquisite calligraphy. Here it is all piles of papers, empty jam jars, PE kit and nerf bullets. If you could only catch the scent of damp football boots on the chill night air you would understand. This is not a house of alluring vignettes.

Even my favourite mug has been broken and has been relegated to the role of pen holder.

Fear not, I am hot on the heels of a sunny replacement. Oh how I am looking forward to the day when I get to show it to you. I shall pop it on the table with a little ivy trailing past and a casually crumbled artisan biscuit at its side.

I am aiming to read some short stories this year in between novels, hence Annie Proulx and Joanne Harris above. I'm also a bit obsessed with the idea of fermenting vegetables. You may recall I tried it before. I popped a bit of garlic in and honestly it smelt so strongly through the glass jar that it had to be banished to the garage. I am armed with a handbook this time, there will be no stopping me. Apparently not only are the bacteria all probiotically good, but the vitamins and minerals are more easily available as well. And none of them are lost through cooking as there isn't any. All you need is a knife, a chopping board, jars, weights, salt and some vegetables. I'm hoping nothing explodes. I understand there will be a build up of gas. Watch this space.

On the subject of explosions, the littlest boy had a whole set of Boom Explosions for Christmas. When he wrote his thank you letter he put, "I am pleading mum and dad to do the Boom Explosions". Nothing like a bit of parental guilt to get things moving, so at the weekend we broke out the box and blew the whole lot up. Fizzings and burstings and at one point masses of shiny sharp confetti ALL OVER the kitchen.

Another of his thank you letters made me smile. "Thank you for the penknife. I am doing whittling and I have already cut myself." As if this was a sign of good progress. His auntie will be happy to know it's going so well.

The only other photo I have for you is of my knitting.

Sigh. Yes, it's black. One or two people did warn me about the perils of knitting in black. But if when it's finished black will be a good thing, all the better to disguise the dodgy bits. In the meantime it is driving me slightly mad. Plus I don't have faith that the jumper will actually fit me. Now I have shown it to you all I shall have to finish it though. It's this one, which looks lovely in cream on the slim model. Wait 'til I've finished with it though.