Lavender...

..... a time-honoured remedy.

A fragrant herb suitable for culinary and many other household uses.

My first encounters with lavender were whilst playing hide and seek in my Grandmother's garden. She lived in an old cottage built to one side of its plot. It was surrounded on three sides by its garden, but there was no access around the fourth side. There were many places to hide. It was an old cottage and had a building, then a coal store/garden shed/outside loo, which had once been a stable - with a hay loft above. It was possible to run right around this and, timed correctly, this removed the need to hide. If playing with only one 'seeker' it was possible to merely circulate, out of phase with him or her. However, that ploy became a little monotonous. Alternatives were a large clump of bamboo - a little hazardous since the leaves were razor sharp, a hedge cut into a large archway, a small shrubbery, a short hedge enclosing a vedge plot, the front porch - entwined with a quince tree, and lavender bushes. The lavender was particularly useful since it was planted on a 'dead-end' path behind the cottage. It was a 'point of no return' - one either hid successfully or was captured. There was no possibility of worming on my tummy to other cover, or of making a run for it undetected. The lavender bushes were very large and  hosted a large and busy community of bees and hoverflies. They filled the senses. Soft and tickly to the touch, fragrant, noisy with the buzz of insects, beautiful to look at - and, as I discovered in later years, very tasty. It was almost a 'companion planting' principle. I 'planted' myself in the lavender and protected by the insects, which my sister feared, I remained hidden - or at least if some part of me should become visible she pretended not to notice in order not to need to get too close!

Some years ago a friend of ours bought us a gift of a fabric bag filled with 'Herbes de Provence' and attractively tied with a ribbon. We stored it carefully and it lasted for some time making a characteristic addition to many soups and stews. When it was eventually finished we tried many times to replace it, but always found our new supply lacking in something. We eventually realised that the lavender was missing from our alternatives.

I have many aromatherapy oils. The ones which I most frequently replenish are tea tree and lavender. Of these we find the lavender to have the more varied use. In checking my reference books before writing this I find that it may be infused as a tea (I'm off to raid our very small, juvenile bush as soon as I click 'Publish'). Its many uses center aound its calming and antiseptic properties. Strange it is that a plant which, when growing, attracts so many insects, and yet in dried form is an effective insect repellant. Successfully warding off, amongst other wee beasties, clothes moths - an animal to which I show very little mercy!

This is my latest lavender bag to be listed on Folksy:

Millie changed her frock and this one was added to my shop at WowThankYou:

Idea Soup.....

... and the ingredients?

In my case, the ingredients include a keen interest in acquiring new craft skills - predominantly those relating to textile crafts ('Jack of all trades and master of...' comes to mind - but I get by). A firm belief that I am not an artist, have no artistic traits/skills/tendencies and yet I can 'cook up' a good idea from the ingredients to hand. An unshakable tendency to hoard fabric(new and 'recyclable')/yarns/beads/threads.... A good library of craft books and magazines, including a lovely set of vintage 30s,40s,50s needlework magazines and a bound set of 'Golden Hands'. I learn techniques, pick up hints/tips/tricks but absolutely and rigorously observe all copyrights. I am guided by a firm belief in Fair Trade principles. For some reason, a love of tiny things and miniaturisation has always been quite central to my interests. I think this may have been born of limited pocket money and shortage of materials, as a child, coupled with some favourite baby dolls which were only about 6 inches tall and for whom I fashioned many wardrobes!

Many of the other influences are even less tangible. I have always had an interest in wildlife and the countryside, in the heritage and traditions of craft skills, in growing our own fruit and veg, in the effects of colour and texture on my mood. (The ways in which certain combinations can instantly and unexpectedly unlock archived memory files - causing recollections to flood out constantly causes fascination).

Why it is that the ingredients for my soup give rise to certain broths or creamy creations and not others I have no idea. Many of the ingredients in my store cupboard are personal and unique and are only in my possession. The exact combination of ingredients in that pantry is entirely unique - much of it based upon life's experiences.

I shall try to give you an idea of the ingredients selected for today's concoction. The aforementioned fascination with things miniature, a stock of printed cotton fabrics, a (possibly) rather strange imagination, an undeniable love of 'cute' themes - which I have tried to hide (unsuccessfully). The importance of family life and precious recollections of the many milestones along the way. Lastly, I think, a family of little robins. Published in a women's weekly magazine, each chapter in their life story was only a couple of paragraphs, together with a single illustration. Every Sunday my father cooked breakfast and mum had a 'lie in'. Difficult to achieve with a young family, her solution was to let my sister and I scramble into bed with her and listen to the latest escapades of Rowly and Rowena robin. Brief in written detail, most of their family antics were hugely supplemented by our imaginations.

My imagination, coached by the author of 'the Robin Family', has now embarked on the textile illustrations of the lives of Millie Mouse and friends. Your imagination will need to supply all the details. Today's offering is 'Isobel's First Day at School':

Millie Mouse and Friends

..... a recurring theme!

I have revisited my poppy designs many times - using different materials and techniques. Equally, the cheerful daisy motifs which I embroider have appeared on many different items in a myriad of colours. The  next theme to be re-visited is ....... mice.

As a young child, an elderly friend of may parents, who called on us once or twice a year, once came with a lovely little gift from the church fete - two little mice! About three inches tall, beautifully dressed, with little felt heads and tiny leather hands and feet, they were treasured. My father used to come in for lunch ( we lived next door to his business). He used my building bricks (a fore-runner of 'Duplo') to build houses - the mice were dropped in before the last roof brick was put in place. I would then peer at them through the windows. Some years later I looked for them to no avail - they seemed to be lost!

I played about with scraps of felt and fabric and made a pattern for my own version. A felt head and a little cylindrical body, male and female mice (including a bride and groom) were carefully dressed and given little accessories - baskets of flowers etc. They sold well as a fund-raiser at the school fair. This success in spite of their 'arms'. Now called 'chenille strips' - in my day, 'pipe cleaners'. I was unable to find suitable grey ones and my poor little mice had rather strange anaemic-looking white arms. Some were fortunate to have sleeves - fiddly to sew but they looked much better!

A few years ago I had the task of clearing my mother's house. A joyous discovery was made! In the dresser  was a collection of novelty egg cups - Noddy and Big Ears (complete with hats), a panda, some strange looking chickens... I remembered all of these and finding them was quite a reward for plodding through a tedious task. Next to them on the shelf, some coloured felt items turned out to be egg cosies - several made by my sister as a child. One of the cosies seemed a little 'rounded'. Too large a 'bump' for a spider, but, unable to imagine what might lurk inside, I peered in cautiously to find...two lovely little mice. Missing for more than forty years - but perfectly safe.

Millie Mouse and her friends are the products of my fabric store, nimble fingers and an imagination coloured at an early age by two little mice! I hope you enjoy them.

Quack!

...or, rather, 'eep-eep-eep' which seems to be the way in which mother ducks keep their offspring close to them and the ducklings respond in the same way!

One of the best things about June. Always fearful that I have missed my chance to spend a little while with my particular favourites - and happy when, having walked past many families of almost full-grown young from earlier broods, I see an entire set of ripples heading my way - more than can be caused by the one adult female which is all I can see clearly at a distance.

I had been carrying 'duck food', mixed seed and corn, for a few weeks - trying to find an opportunity to visit the canal at Llangollen. Yesterday, whilst son was helping at the local Scout campsite we persuaded his fourteen year old sister  to go with us. At fourteen, parents are embarrassing at the best of times, but parents that kneel on the tow-path hand-feeding ducks, whilst constantly talking to them, are - apparently, so embarrassing that its best not to be seen with them. The mother ducks were tame and although pecks from them don't hurt at all they do make me jump - in turn making the ducks jump and causing me to drop entire hand-fulls of seed at a time. You might think that this was to the duck's advantage but it sinks very quickly and the babies are too little to up-end to reach it.

Whilst I enjoyed their company, my husband managed to take some pics. They didn't keep at all still and, although I made friends with several families, the photos below are the only ones remotely worth posting. Working our way up the canal we arrived at the horseshoe falls, where we watched clouds of small fish, some being gobbled by a slightly larger fish, darting around our feet. My daughter was sufficiently distracted by the novelty of using Dad's camera and added the photo of the drake in all his beauty.

Now so much for embarrassing parents! One of our usual means of occupying the kids on long car journeys used to be to sing. Often tedious 'one-man-went-to-mow type' songs. As they got older Scouts campfire songs took over. The only sensible route back to the car was back the way we had come. This was too boring for our daughter who decided to pass the time by singing, and dancing (where some sort of linear progression was possible) a whole string of irritating action-type 'disco - songs' - oblivious to the strange looks SHE was getting!

Pretty and Practical - Folksy Friday No 38

Whilst I do like purely decorative items my display space is limited and it is lovely to find useful items which are also beautiful. I hope you like my choices. Click on any item to view it on its Folksy shelf.

Kate Bowles

moody cow designs

Maytree Lane

pipdesigns

BaggieAggie

Old Friendship Crafts.

Custom Embroidered Items

... a new listing from Lynwoodcrafts. Choose an item from the list and then select from more than 12 embroidery designs (more to follow soon). Your item should be posted to you within four working days. See the listings in my Folksy shop for detailed information

http://www.folksy.com/items/1888801-Your-Choice-custom-embroidered-item-?shop=yes

http://www.folksy.com/items/1888753-Your-Choice-custom-embroidered-item-?shop=yes

To see the selection of Custom Items and the Custom Designs which are available click the tabs on the link bar.

Black Grouse

My son was 'mountain-biking' yesterday evening, with his Explorer Scout unit. They stay for about 2 hours, but, since it takes at least 30 mins to get there and another 30 mins to get home, I put my boots in the car and walk whilst he's cycling. The centre he uses is in an area of forest and there are way-marked foot paths, however, walkers are in the minority! We find most folks engaged in out-door pursuits to be friendly, helpful people, generally. My son has been rescued by kind souls providing extra inner tubes etc in the past - when he has worked through the ones he had on the bike and his spares. Unfortunately for me, the centre now has a barbecue night on a Wednesday and, yesterday, were having some sort of time trial/race. The cycle and bike routes are entirely separate and clearly marked. However, the forest was far from quiet and crossing the main cycle tracks was almost like trying to cross a town by-pass in the rush hour. I followed the marked trail to its junction with a network of public footpaths over open moorland and escaped over the stile into peace and quiet.

When timber is cut the habitat is drastically changed. Good practice suggests that some trunks should be left as nest sites and perches, particularly for woodpeckers. These serve the purpose but have also been employed as something akin to totem poles. I have often wondered whether the carved silhouettes would be rocognizable to their real cousins and thus serve to scare them off. I took pics of a few including the 'bikes' for my son's benefit:

Once out in the open it was very windy and a little cold. There were many small, ground-nesting song birds which I did not identify. The path is little more than a sheep track - in places not even that. The sheep had obviously found it a little narrow and kindly left tufts of their fleece. I gathered some on the way back - although probably not exactly the same tufts as I saw on the way! The path was marked with arrows mounted on short posts at sensible intervals. I wasn't carrying a map having meant to stay on the forest trails, but the path was easy to follow. The area is used by local groups carrying out Bronze Expeditions for D of E and I was wondering how any of them ever managed to get lost - in good visibility at any rate. I walked for half the time available to me and then turned back. There were some lovely lichens, new curls of bracken and many heathers and grasses but it was much too windy for decent photos, neither I nor they could stand still! I took these pics just to reference the general colours:

As previously mentioned, the path was marked although otherwise a little indistinct. Having turned back the previously visible posts were now hidden by the heather and I took a wrong turning cunningly worn for me by the sheep! I could see the stile I was returning to, so was not lost. However, I must admit it would have been a little different in fog! The forest is peppered with carved 'statues' representing local wildlife. The forest trail, up to the stile, is marked as the 'black grouse' trail and statues of the birds - in a frighteningly large scale mark the stile. As I was running out of even the narrowest of sheep trails, I heard the characteristic 'Go Back' call followed by a sqwawk and a black grouse rose a little above the heather and flew of in alarm. I was thrilled to see both it, and its mate, by whom it was followed, but very sorry to have disturbed them.

My tracking skills are dreadful, I tried to re-trace my steps and failed. Not wanting to disturb them again I set off in an arc towards the stile. Unfortunately, the heather was getting deeper and I was concerned about stumbling across more nest sites  - be they of grouse or other birds. There were areas of recently burned moorland which I decided would be safer, since I could see my feet at least. I trudged through a very boggy bit to get to the first. Now I know that my bargain-priced boots are both comfortable and waterproof! My walking pole was not a 'must-have' 'look-the-part' accessory, but essential. My right arm aches almost as much as my legs today. I have found in the past that walking poles allow one to retain some dignity whilst effectively proceeding on all fours. Unfortunately my dignity was temporarily abandoned when I tripped over one heather bush - a springy soft landing at least! I was now short of time and the small patches of deep heather which I was still having to wade through were hard work. The areas of short new growth worked well but were not conveniently placed and I was zig-zagging in a ridiculous way towards the stile. I probably only had to negotiate about 500 or 600 path-less meters, but they wore me out.

I finally found my son and bike. Normally, after mountain biking he is forced to change or travel home sitting on a towel. On this occasion I was wetter than he was!