Angel Jem's City Cottage

Last August we went to Edinburgh and saw Greyfriars Bobby, the statue. The Princess was so impressed she spent her hard earned holiday money on the cuddly toy who now lives on her bed. I know the story is sad, but I find it so lovely that a story from 150 years ago can still touch a 5 year old today. It also makes me feel sad, because I'm not sure the same thing would ever happen again. If Auld Jock died now, he would most likely be cremated and his ashes stored somewhere on the off chance that any relatives came to claim him. Bobby would be sent to the dog rescue where, if he did manage to escape from the cage he definitely wouldn't get out the security doors to reach the city mortuary. If he did get there, then his entry would be blocked again by a numerical lock (dogs have trouble operating those; the key pad is usually too high up to reach) and a security guard who works there on the days when he's not a night club bouncer. Even if Auld Jock had had a burial plot booked...

But the trouble is that I keep changing from project to project, ignore any house work completely and can always think of a reason why I need (that's need ) to go to Borders. Apart from sewing blue Pinkies for the task master, there's a ripple blanket for DP, a waistcoat to knit for me, some mats that I bought 14 years ago to embroider, several cross stitch sets I have found and want to finish and a tapestry cushion that cost an indecent amount that I must, from shame, finish sometime. I will photo and post like a good girl sometime but, for now, I am in love with Photobox and busy cutting and sticking a scrapbook of our Scottish holiday last year. I'll leave you with my new header photo; the crystal bowl is at least 30 years old, the mat I embroidered myself. Enjoy.

I took my daughter to speech therapy on Monday.... she can't get the difference in saying G and D so we have a lot of dods but only one Dod. Do you get it? OK, so speech therapy is supposed to be only half an hour at 1.30.... but going and returning take a good 15 minutes (drive slowly) and play is at half two, and after play is only story time..... do you see where I'm going with this? All in all it makes more sense not to take her back into school, especially since my Dad can collect the Boys on a Monday so we (she and I) indulge and I mean indulge in feminine time. Translation; we go to Borders (and Starbucks within) where I get fleeced right royally. This week's highway robbery was a Japanese craft book , so cute that I have barely been allowed to touch it and, indeed, at the moment can't find it to copy and show you. Don't tell her, but I did get this matching volume ; so she will be getting the hairbands, bags and bits 'n' pieces that are dear to a yo...

Today should be Ballet and swimming. Actually we will go swimming at midday, then go to visit my Ma, but we're playing hookey from ballet. Is that bad? It gave me a chance to read all the blogs I haven't for a while, to leave a lot of comments, to see what is out there in the creative zeitgeist and to pump the well of inspiration. We'll go see Ma, but we need to go to the Market. I want some cute buttons, some cotton yarn, some pretty material. I feel a sewing & knitting fit coming on. The princess needs her new summer dresses.... and a white cotton cardy. And then the boys will need some shorts, and I need some new baggy trousers and I need a new cushion and I want a summer house with gingham curtains (red) and an outside socket for a kettle and a sofa....... Inspiration, he? And now I'm off to take some pictures, to download a whole load of the computer onto my external hard drive and to fight (tooth and claw) with my children for the right to keep the computer un...

My husband's Uncle Arthur died last Wednesday and the funeral is tomorrow. Yes, we are sad in that we will miss him, he was a regular Christmas guest the past 4 years and we did treat him as a surrogate grandpop, eally, but I refuse to go in for heavy mourning. You see, he was 83 which is a good innings, really, and he wasn't massively ill ever so to be carried off by a massive stroke with little/no pain sounds reasonable to me. He was such an independant man that to be disabled would have been anathema. My goodness! he didn't want to ask for help if he could help it ever. Stubborn and self-willed, this was a man who had been through WW2 and the events in Palestine until 1947. He had been a scout messenger during the blitz, he knew what war was like...... and he could keep the stories going for hours And hours And hours. I wish I'd made him write them down. Now who can tell me about the sand in the tent shifting because of the scorpions? Who can remind me that 60 years ...

Gratuitous shot of reasonably tidy front door area. (Note baskets of living stuff and lack of letters piled up on mat) My e-mail isn't working. So, because it's not working I don't check it. So, if anyone I know has e-mailed me....... I haven't ignored you on purpose, I just haven't been able to get through to the stash waiting for me on Virgin medias e-mail shelves (Don't try and fool me that it doesn't all get stored on pieces of paper somewhere. I know it does.) Apologies then for any unintentional rudeness & offence that I may have caused. The other downside of this is that I am loathe to do any online shopping because I don't know what to do about an e-mail address. Which is a pity as I actually had time on my hands today to browse and added some more pretty stops to my favourites list. Sophie Perks Ward , a name I recognise from magazines The Hen House. Look at those cute baskets! I love french style shopping baskets and will be getting one......

When I changed my name (well, blog name, really) to the Domestic competent that was what I intended to be; competent, no more no less. Well a little less if necessary. OK a lot less than competent. Like I need to do the washing before I am backed out of my own kitchen by the pile. I need to get something to eat ready to heat for 6 o'clock. I need ...... But I have a Sickie Mickie who is lying on the settee and feeling very sorry, a little princess fresh from a party high on sugar and crafts and another one who needs a hand to cut straight because "I'm making you a set of Dino cards Mummy, so you can start collecting...." The washing will wait.