Following on from yesterday’s post;
A big thank you to Eddie who provided all of the initial yarns, I miss you Eddie.
Thanks also to Lucy in the attic, for inspiring me to learn to crochet this design.
Thanks to A Crafty Coffee, for your support and love, not just for the duration of the blanket, but for the long term ‘being there’ stuff.
I can’t post a photo because a) it’s dark and b) the finished item is BIG.
So in the morning, after a trip to the optician and before a trip to the hairdresser, I will post a ta-dah photo of The Camping Blanket which started life here, was added to here, got a few mentions before another proper post about it here and finally made it’s way to fruition just now.
I’m so proud. It’s been approximately year in the making, it’s come camping at varying stages of incompleteness, it’s been left in a bag on the back burner while I have got on with life around it, it’s been adopted by my two children to snuggle under on the sofa … but tonight … tonight I added the final round to the three stripe border.
The Vintage Stripe blanket is a thing of beauty. It is approximately 6′ by 5’4″ (very approximate) and perfect for two to wrap up in around a campfire.
This blanket has seen me through 12 months of life, a ‘good’ couple of cycles of depression, an extended period of devastating grief, happy times camping (glamping) in the great outdoors, a number of massive life changes, approximately nine blog posts, many, many, many mornings at A Crafty Coffee … and that was all before it was finished. Imagine the times we have ahead of us, me and my blanket.
I can’t wait to share it with you all.
Hawthorn blossom May crown. Credit to Ms Sumptuous for the assemblage.
My craft this week has extended only as far as a few rows added to the camping blanket (which started life here), and the making of May crowns to wear at the Beltain Wickerman Festival at Butser Ancient Farm.
As some of you will already be aware, I am christian in my faith. But I have more than a passing interest in the culture of the British Isles and the festivals that were native to pre-christian times … of which many have undergone a christian ‘makeover’.
I am fascinated as to how early christians, presumably many of whom participated in pagan festivals and rituals, came to faith and subsequently tried to make sense of their new belief system in relation to the old.
Yesterday was the first full moon after May 1st. For Pagans, Wiccans, Druids and probably others, it’s an equinox, a fire festival of fertility (fertility in the sense of fertile ground and of reproduction, but also fertility in the sense of creativity), most widely known as Beltain or Beltane.
In earth/moon/sun/universe worship, Beltain marks the passing of Winter and the coming of Summer. It’s traditionally a time where communities would have come back together, after the isolation that comes with Winter, and celebrated the coming of a new season. In farming terms, it’s a time when people would ask/wish/pray (whatever term you feel most comfortable with) for a good Spring/Summer leading to a fruitful harvest.
We joined our pagan friends – Emma Sumptous and family, and Kayt and family; at Butser Ancient Farm for the Beltain celebrations – including belly dancers, two bands and Morris dancers – and the burning of the wicker man. The history of the wicker man has been well documented. It is said that the wicker casket (often shaped like a man) used to contain human and animal sacrifices to the Gods in the hope of a good harvest in return. Now though, it’s a wholly more family friendly affair. He was an impressive structure and contained the wishes of many of the crowd.
As a christian, I am not unfamiliar with the concept of nailing my problems or wrongdoings to a wooden cross, of writing my fears in chalk to have them symbolically wiped away, of burning my prayers in a fire … all symbolism for me. As such, I was not entirely prepared for the onslaught of criticism from one of my christian acquaintances in church this morning. Yes, I put my prayer in the leg of the wicker man, yes I let it burn with the wishes of pagans, agnostics, atheists … But NO, I was not ‘worshipping another God’, or preaching satan to my children. I simply do not understand christians who will fill their houses with trees and foliage at Christmas (the celebration of which there is no biblical precedent for) but who will turn on another christian who sees value in meeting with her non-christian friends ‘on their own turf’ to chat about love, life, the universe, from our differing perspectives.
Part of the May celebrations in the countryside for us involves the making of ‘May Crowns’ from the hedgerows. I don’t expect my christian counterpart would be terribly enthused by this idea either. But for me, wearing a plant garland on my head is nothing more than an accessory assembled from seasonal pretties in the hedgerows. Not so far removed from blackberry picking, or wearing a button-hole at a wedding. When I spend time in creation, I cannot help but feel a connectedness to it. I find it to be very spiritually uplifting, I am reminded to give thanks.
A simple May Crown
Myself, my daughter and my husband (who was making for our friends’ two year old daughter) each took rings woven with soaked willow, threaded them with ivy and fir, and made crowns. For next weekend though, the Green Fair at the Sustainability Centre, we shall add more spring to them in the form of hawthorn blossom and the like – more like the crown I modelled in the first shot. I wonder if our Saturday at Environmental Rock followed by our Sunday at the Green Fair will be as provocative as Beltain was?
Sexy Seams
Last night I stepped back in time at a Vintage Inspired evening put on by The Purple Polka Dots Present … It was a fun fundraising event for Debra, a charity of whom I doubt many of you have heard. My lovely friend Vie gave a very moving, personal testimony about what it is like to be only mildly affected by the disease; Epidermolysis Bullosa (EB). It was incredibly touching, at the same time as being enlightening because if she is only mildly affected, then how hard must life be for people supported by Debra, the people most severely affected by this disabling disease?
Even without the charitable aspect, the evening of vintage music, singing and dancing promised to be fun. The Vintage Hair Lounge were there styling barnets ready for the do, and then promoting themselves and another event. Vivien of Holloway were reperesented and had kindly donated the top raffle prize of a bespoke, made-to-measure dress. There were cakes and doilies, flags and bunting, friends and fizz, and a proper party atmosphere.
My only criticism would be that the evening wasn’t called a wartime tea dance, or a 1940s inspired evening because my personal take on 50s rockabilly wasn’t in keeping with The Spinettes and the WWII styled dance troupe, or the overall feel of the event. I would have felt more at home in one of my tea dresses.
Naturally, this didn’t stop me from strolling the night away with the best of them, powered by Prosecco I pressed my new found stroll steps into action and (hopefully) made Vie proud. It was such fun, I do hope that the Purple Polka Dots don’t leave it too long before putting on their next event.
I'm Strollin'
I try to remind myself regularly what this blog is supposed to be about, but you know, it’s me … my writing, my words, and inevitably you’ll see bits of me that aren’t all crafty, vintage, recycled, upcycled, re-purposed, home-spun, home-grown, homemade … ‘save cash, save the planet’ blah blah blah.
It’s inevitable that, as a woman who battles with depression, some of those thoughts and feelings will seep into my blog.
It’s been a wee while since I have posted anything other than My Vegan Lent, cookery or Silent Sunday posts. You may be forgiven for thinking I’d given up on all of the rest of my life.
I read on twitter the other day that ‘living with depression is a bit like being a really shitty werewolf’. Not only did this make me smile, it really resonated with me. Because, if living with depression was like being a normal werewolf, you’d just take yourself off once a month, do your change, change back and return. But it’s not like that. It truly is like being a shitty werewolf. One that has no idea when they change will occur, or how long it will last, or how to make those in the vicinity safe.
I have been slowly reducing my dose of antidepressants. Given how I am feeling right now, I am not sure this was a wise move. I am going to stop at this dose for a bit and see what happens, maybe my brain is taking a while to catch up? Or maybe I just cannot do this without medical intervention. I don’t really mind either way, I am not bothered by the idea of being on the drugs forever- so long as they work, I’d just like to see if my brain chemicals can do it for themselves.
That’s probably enough misery for now. Perhaps I’ll be back on Sunday with a post relating to an evening of Vintage that I am going to tomorrow … been practicing my stroll moves in readiness.
Silence ...
Silence ...
Silence ...
