Smock, Stocky and Looks Like a Barrel

Taking a break from tyre-related posts, unless you count the spare tyre...

Well, I've been thwarted in my plans to make an entire 50s style wardrobe of demure, flattering and adorable maternity garments, partly due to being laid up for so long, partly as everything takes longer than planned, and partly as I think there's something going on with these patterns.  Many photos have been withheld to protect the aesthetically minded.

So far I have made:

 

 

a rather startling smock dress with long sleeves in emerald velour which was intended for Xmas, got finished at end of February and makes me look like Margot from the Good Life (if she was a foot shorter and had let herself go to seed).  It's St Patrick's Day soon, so if there's a shortage of leprechauns on the Kent/Sussex border, it may still be in with a chance.

from the same pattern, a pinafore dress in black watch, which thankfully looks acceptable, yet not brilliantly similar to the picture on the pattern, being quite boxy and shapeless.

a no-pattern pencil skirt from a blog I found.  It seemed to easy to be true, but actually it was fine.  Managed to make it in half an hour and put a kick pleat in for good measure.  This gave me a false sense of confidence.

Another pencil skirt to go with a trapeze top, and therefore make a suit... from this:

This is the biggest issue.  I know I have had to widen the pattern, but I also know I did it in proportion and it worked.  However, what I saw in a photo of myself in it, was a pin head poking out of the top of one green saggy bag resting on top of another green saggy bag.  This is not the effect I was hoping to convey.  However, since starting this post, a good few weeks ago, various things have changed:

1- I have got bigger and it now fits a lot better

2- various people have commented that they like it

3- one of the bows has fallen off...

Having run out of making time, I'm going to keep back the final piece of fabric for when I'm 'back' to a size 8, which I understand can take anything up to an hour after delivery, stick the patterns back on eBay and do something less frustrating instead. So we shall never know what this would have looked like:

However, I've had niggling doubts and looked into it. My conclusions are that actually I've done nothing wrong and the image on the patterns are being less than honest.  These two prove my suspicions:

 So- if this lady is pregnant at all, she is so very recently so, that it would explain her general air of someone who had to run to catch the bus to the artist's studio for her portrait, as well as why she didn't have time to change and actually be wearing the baggy, saggy smock top.  I find it very unlikely that there is the same amount of fabric in her dress as in that top and all it takes is a bit of belting up in the early weeks to get the dress to see you through the whole 9 months.  How convenient that there were no photos printed onto patterns at the time- I don't think reality would have helped sales.  Add to which that this pattern is intended for a 40" bust for a 1940s pattern, and I can only assume that the ladies in question would have kept themselves securely hidden from view down a dark air raid shelter for the duration.

Pretty much all of the above applies here to, other than the two bows implying the garment can be let out to accommodate expansion.  Which is surely what you need to see?  Otherwise, anyone that had the figure in the drawing would have had no need of a maternity garment.  Mind you, these ladies look like they're even more in denial than I am. 

 The patterns I have bought are no better- the ladies wearing the clothes I am trying to make in the ever-dwindling belief I will resemble them in any way at all, don't so much look pregnant in any way (that would never do) as convey pregnancy by holding a bonnet, looking at a bootee, or just staring dreamily into the distance with a secret air of knowing and fabulous pointy stilettos. 

Since starting this post, I have had one more successful project and will share that on a separate post.

Three wheels on the bus go round and round, the other is nowhere to be found

God bless http://www.countryliner-coaches.co.uk/ 

for never giving me a dull moment.

Whether it's the excitement of seeing the bus arriving, or hopping off after it's broken down onto the 'replacement' which is actually just the next one, an hour later, or the challenges of flagging down an out of service bus, a school bus and persuading it to go off route to the station and getting a train,  wondering how you're going to get home after the last bus at 6.30 doesn't show, or simply giving up after 45 mins of waiting and hitching a lift with strangers, there are certainly no two days the same. 

Except of course for the ones where the bus doesn't show up two days running either due to a lack of drivers (so badly and irregularly paid you can hardly blame them for phoning in sick with no notice to get someone else in), or just grinding to a halt somewhere on the Kent/Sussex border. 

Today's fun and frolics was a wheel blowing, taking a panel with it and the driver managing to steer it to a halt alongside the grass after a couple of hundred metres of driving on the three remaining wheels and the metal where the fourth one used to be, in the dark. 

 Luckily I was near enough to home for Rich to come and get me. 

 How we laughed.

By the way, if you are thinking of adding to your vintage bus collection, Countryliner have a remarkably vast range,  actually for sale from their website: http://www.countryliner-coaches.co.uk/localbushire.asp?id=76. 

Hurry, while stocks last. One less today...

My Other Spare Tyre is a Pirelli

Well, I came home late from work the other night, and went indoors.  It wasn't until Rich came in later and pointed it out that I saw the huge lorry tyre in the front garden:

And here it is, gracing what's left of our log pile. 

So, the next thought is: how did it get there?  It couldn't just have bounced off a lorry and onto the logs, as it would have had to fly very precisely through the gap between our hedge and next door's, then stop dead without bouncing further.  So, our only theory is that somebody decided to roll it off the road, off the pavement, down the drive, up the plank and onto the logs (and some parcels the postie had hidden, which survived in varying degrees).

Of course, now its disposal was our problem. 

Having checked the next morning that it was still there:

and having failed to come up with any potential craft project for it, including the horse-shaped swing especially as it would be more of a giraffe, and require scaffolding to hold it up, I phoned the council, who said it would have to be on the pavement, as not private property.  They then agreed for us to leave it where it was, seeing as it weighed a ton, and the pavement is narrower than the tyre.

The next day the tyre had mysteriously moved to the pavement, blocking our entry and the path of any of the pubgoers- NOT very health and safety-  but one more day and it was gone. 

 We sort of miss it.

How vexing

So the sun is shining, I'm in a t-shirt and it's October.  Utterly hateful- I was all ready to hibernate, now I feel I ought to be DOING things, instead of curling up and waiting for the sun to come out- how can I do that if it won't go away?  Anyway, in the meantime, here are some photos of things that annoy me on a daily basis in T Wells.

In reverse order:

5: random set of wiring under my friend's desk- Why?

4: Most tedious window cleaning I have ever witnessed- at least our firm can afford to pay someone with a mop on a stick

3: Outside the teaching recruitment agency- look closely and you'll see where the apostrophe used to be- presumably they got the job.  This vexes me in that it was allowed to go outside in its original state

 

2: This, on the other hand vexes me no end- and more so as it's now MONTHS since the board was put out.  Where's my red chalk?

Which brings me to my all time most vexing sight ever. One which I have to endure ever time I move to or from the orifice. 

1: AAAARRGHHHHH

Blogging in the Rain- Pt 2: the disappointing sequel. The rain in Grain has seeped into my brain

Wishing I'd just slapped up a couple of photos at the time and been done with it- now this has been built up out of all proportion.  Anyway, let's get it over with:

Woke up after a rainy night, to a rainy morning.   It did abate for a moment while we went to get fried things for breakfast. As I was sitting on a bench waiting for Rich to find his wallet, contemplating the meaning of life, and asking for some sort of sign, I looked up and saw this. Coincidence?

 So, suitably fortified, onwards to the Isle of Grain, to let the novelty wear off naturally and observe, and possibly frolic, amongst the wildlife.  Here is but one of many moments on the road:

Slightly stunned to see a vespa out having fun today. Depressingly had to speed up to get near enough for the photo.  

First destination, somewhere on the Isle of Grain:

always good to have a system

grey flora on grey background with grey skies ahead

Surprisingly hostile-looking fauna

a view- there was a lot of this sort of thing

the only other wildlife of the day, and it really wasn't so much wild, as a bit grumpy.

the compulsory shot of the children's graves which may or may not have inspired Dickens to write Great Expectations.

next stop- it was harder to appreciate the natural beauty from inside the van, but I believe the right choice

After a battle to get it uploaded, this should take things to another dimension 

 Next stop- misreading the map, and past a 'no entry' sign and onwards, just to see.

it would appear the only reason for this being off limits was that its unattractiveness caused an offense to the eye. Even the security guard couldn't be bothered to stop us and ask awkward questions.  

Next stop, the correct bit of coastline.  Rich accidentally forgot himself and started having fun, a bit.

This was all I had to work with.  a semi-decomposed crab.

At this point, the sun started to come out, so we beat a hasty retreat and went home.  So that's done.

Blogging in the Rain- Pt 1: It started with a knit

A little introduction, before I get started:

The whole decision to start a blog came from nothing good.  It was born from envy of following the glamorous bloggable lives of a couple of ladies, namely Needled and, more recently, Rus in Urbis .  Both are knitters, both found by chance when  I was looking up other things, and both have things in common with me, especially the latter.  Now, I KNOW that blogs are edited, and if I look at the dates of posting I can see that they both have their share of unworthy days that pass unblogged.  And yet, I still take it all at face value. 

So I decided to prove to myself that my life is as blogworthy as anyone else's.  And so it began.

As I'm quite partial to the odd mosaic, and not long back from Pompeii and Herculaneum, we decided to see a bit of Roman Britain.  I remembered a knitting pattern I had seen (yes, everything really does start with a knit) and we picked St Albans.

By the time I typed my first post, we had already booked a little weekend away, I had my new camera and was ready. 

When Saturday morning finally came round., I leapt(ish) out of bed, flung back the curtains and...

Not to worry: a bit of rain won't get us down.  Not on this, our special weekend.  Looking forward to putting my new anorak through its paces, we set off, laughing all the way.  Here is but one of many moments on the road:

First stop, having decided to leave the walk around the Roman walls for another day (maybe), was the indoors, covered, dry Roman museum, just a short wade from the car park.  For no reason that I remember, I decided not to use flash, which has given everything a slightly sinister air.

if you look closely, you'll see Mr Turner has been less than careful. 

Uplighting lends your basic everyday handicrafts a touch of much-needed menace

If there was a reason, I can't remember it

And finally, here is Rich having a whale of a time in front of the mosaic that started it all off

The pattern is here:  Roman mosaic jacket and yes, I do believe I'll make one.  

At the gift shop.  Do the teddies have a wardrobe, or should this have told us something?

Another bit of sightseeing to continue the cultural tour.  Oh, Look! it's an historic pub.  I wonder if it's as historic inside... 

One soup later, a brief drizzle of mildly apocalyptic proportions and a quick swim back to the van, and onward to the mostly, but thankfully not completely, outdoors Butterfly World, featuring Ant World. 

I acknowledge these are of limited artistry, or indeed interest, but I am by now desperately trying to find any photo with any colour.

Over time, the sky rained itself out, and was having what would  turn out to be a short break from deluging, so we made the most of it, and went around the concept gardens, some of which I got on with better than others.

What's that coming over the hill? Is it a 50 foot ant statue? Yes.

 What would Joanie Do?  

Rich spotted the Dali reference, I just spotted our lobster

 my one attempt to connect with the garden and take an arty snap of the poem that ran throughout the area, when Rich came over to see what I was doing.

we had something not dissimilar...

And so part one ends, with us warming ourselves in the cafe, perusing the flyers for places to visit, such as: Discover Dartford! Wicked Watford! Potter in Peterborough! etc.  On to tomorrow, and the Countryside....