This woman's work: Limoncello and amigurumi

Just a quick post tonight, as its late and I am exhausted. Its been a busy day at the cottage. The baby fed, quite literally, all night and I woke with a sore back from twisting around her slightly in bed. Thankfully I feed her lying down an night, so I managed the odd doze. I awoke late, so Charlie was late for school and, because I'd had to wake her abruptly (and she hadn't had enough sleep either,) the baby was grumpy. Just as I'd poured myself the first cup of tea of the day, Jonny appeared and said he'd missed the school bus. 15 minutes later I'm driving us all the 15 mile round trip to school.

I've tried to work today, honestly I have, but the darkness and the horrible, cold rain has conspired to prevent me from being too motivated. I cut up some paper, and finished my hand and footprint tiles, which I will share with you another day. I am pleased with them. Then, right on cue, Florence woke up and I spent most of the rest of the time baby wrangling. Or baby wrestling, as my friend calls it. Florrie's a big, heavy baby now who won't sit still. She's prone to suddenly arching her back and flinging herself around. Wrestling is an accurate description.

Still, the baby went into the sling and that gave me chance to work on the next stage of the Christmas alcohol - home made Limoncello and Blackberry vodka. I spent a relaxing couple of hours mixing up sugar solution, sterilising jars and pottering about.

 

The now sweetened lemon vodka will now retreat back into the fridge for a week to infuse some more, before I strain the lemon zest out and bottle it. 

Here's the recipe in case you fancy having a go. There's still time before Christmas

Limoncello

6 small unwaxed lemons

1 litre bottle vodka - cheap will do

750g caster sugar

750ml boiling water

 

1. Wash and sterilise a large Kilner jar by putting into a cool oven for 10 mins (gas mark 1/ 140 degrees C)

2. Wash the lemons, then grate the lemon zest finely, taking care not to take the pith (ha!)

3. Put lemon zest into sterile jar and pour over the vodka. Secure well and store in a cool, dark place for one week. Shake everyday - it looks like a snowstorm of yellow snow (nice)

4) After a week has passed, measure out the sugar into a large bowl. Add freshly boiling water and stir carefully until the sugar dissolves.  You can tell when the sugar has dissolved as it goes clear, and if you put a spoon into the mixture, you can't see or feel any granules on the back of the spoon. Stir the lemon infused vodka into the sugar syrup.

5) Wash the Kilner jar, along with another of the same size, and sterilise both. Pour the combined mixture of lemon vodka and sugar syrup into the jars. Store for another week, shaking every day. Strain the Limoncello through a clean muslin cloth and decant into pretty, sterilised bottles.

Store in the freezer and drink neat, use in cocktails or pour over ice cream.

 

 

The blackberry vodka is proving to be more of a challenge as we've gone a little off piste with this. We wanted to use the blackberries left over from the railway jelly, so we bundled them into a demijohn and added vodka. I've been keeping notes. I'll share them with you at a later date.

 

I also wanted to share this little dude with you. Well, dudette. It's Cactus Jacqui!

How I enjoyed making her! The pattern was free, enjoyable to crochet, and I made her up in a night! a perfect project. You can find the pattern here.

Cactus Jacqui is part of a gift I've made for a handmade Secret Santa. I need to post her tomorrow, hopefully the postman will deliver her safely to her new home on the other side of the country.

 

Well. That wasn't quick, was it?! Thanks for hanging out with me again, though, its always fun.

Claire x

 

 

This Woman's Work: Christmas

 

Christmas has a touch of the Marmites about it, I think, you either love it or hate it. My husband hates it with a passion. He thinks its overpriced, enforced consumerism - which, I suppose it is. I tend to swing, like a pendulum, between the two extremes. I think it is important to punctuate the year with traditional celebrations, as they are cast-in-stone ways of ensuring that we keep up with our friends and family. I think I actually prefer the concept of Thanksgiving, though. I do not have a strong (public) religious belief, and I do not actually believe that God cares all that much whether you pray on special or ordinary days - so the religious aspect of Christmas does little for me. I like the idea of noticing, and appreciating the good things that surround us all. Christmas, all too often, can become an exercise in The Wanties. I am not exempt from this myself.

I am starting my series 'This Woman's Work' with Christmas, as I think its an excellent example of the hard work that women do that often goes unnoticed. My husband is a 21st century man, he does a lot of housework and believes that relationships should be 50:50. However, he does have a tendancy to arrive at Christmas expecting that everyone should have thoughtful gifts chosen, made or bought, beautifully wrapped and delivered on budget. He does the food shopping, but I do most of the cooking. He couldn't care less whether Christmas cards were bought, written and sent, or who is invited and what type of food is served when they arrive, but he doesn't want anyone in the family to feel that we don't care about them. Work commitments mean that he can't attend school plays and decoration afternoons, magic shows, pantomimes or school fayres. So he doesn't get involved with finding costumes, raffle prizes, taking the children to various Christmas events and making sure they don't get too much of a sugar rush, visiting Father Christmas and encouraging the suddenly stage-struck child into the grotto, or helping clear the classroom of PVA glue and millions of pieces of paper from the classroom carpet. Nor does he think of the classroom politics of ensuring that everyone in the class has a card, posted into the right box and addressed in the right way, and of remembering other children in different classes who invited Charlie to their birthday parties over the year, and ensuring that anyone we might have left out has a card written and delivered the very next day. My husband is amazing and I love him, but Christmas really is MY work. He's busy doing the important paid stuff.

I start to plan Christmas in the preceeding January. We are both from quite small families, but that means that we need to buy presents for everyone, adults included. This may not be what other families do, and some of you will think that this is excessive and that the adults can do without gifts. Not so for our families. This is one of the unspoken challenges of Christmas that women deal with. Do you give to receive? What happens if someone turns up at your door with an unexpected gift? Do you have a few extras wrapped and ready under the tree for such eventualities? What if you buy a present for a person who can't afford to buy one back for you - is this a treat for them that they can't afford themselves, or are you encouraging them to reciprocate your gift unnecessarily, leaving them out of pocket? Do you buy things of equal value for all relatives? Or do you make sure that people have an equal AMOUNT of gifts (I especially struggle with this one with the children. It comes from Jonathan's younger days, when he had a friend with extremely generous parents. "Why does Father Christmas love Mark more than me?" he cried. Ouch.) What happens if you buy someone a gift in the sale? Does that mean you buy someone else a gift of the same amount that you spent, or the same amount that the gift is worth? And on, and on and on, Ariston.

Women try to work out all of this emotional, hidden crap. I am sure men do too but, in conversations with men I know, I find that they tend to care less what other people think.

I make gifts because I like it, and because it makes my money go further. However, if you make to sell then this is not a great use of your time. It doesn't make sense, from a financial point of view, to make items if the cost of your labour, plus the materials, is worth more than the amount you would spend on a gift. Besides which, do your friends and family actually LIKE handmade gifts, anyway? I once made a handmade blanket that cost almost £100 in yarn and hours upon hours of my time. I could have cried when I saw the disappointment on my recipient's face, and they said (much like Andie Macdowell in Four Weddings) "Oh. A blanket." 

This year I AM handmaking gifts for some people but not others; I have learned the hard way! Besides which, it gives me the opportunity to experiment with some new ideas for my newly re-launched Folksy shop that I plan to give an overhaul to in January 2013.

So, the picture above is a note book for our lovely Aunty Pauline. She's hoping to move in 2013 and is a great maker of lists. She's buying a house that looks much like this so I tried to interpret it in fabric. I REALLY enjoyed this project - fabric books are fabbity anyway, but trying to represent a home was lovely. I'm going to have a go at doing ours once I've finished the Christmas presents, but I intend to frame ours. I really hope she likes it.

SO, sneaking the Christmas joy where I can, then, with the odd bit of crafting, and some Christmas spirit (and chocolate. Oh, yes.) I'm trying not to worry too much about the other stuff.

 

Claire x

You Gotta Be Strong Enough To Walk On Through The Night...

 

Isn't this afghan amazing? It's not mine! I discovered it on Ravelry and can't stop looking at it. What inspiration!
 

Well, hello my lovelies. I am sending you big, woolly hugs, I've poured myself a coffee and suggest you do the same too. Shall we take 5 minutes to put our feet up together and catch up? Good-oh.

It's been a very dark couple of weeks here in East Yorkshire literally and metaphorically. I have been really, really struggling. There have been lots of days when I have double locked all the doors and refused to open the blinds and curtains. Jonny has a secret knock and Dom has to send me a text message just before he gets home. I know this isn't right, and I feel dreadfully sad for my family, but I just can't help it. I need to feel safe.

There has been a lot going on, relating to the closure of the business, that I can't really talk about on here. But it has made me feel very frightened and panicky. I can really relate to the 'fight or flight' feelings that books on depression always mention. My self esteem has really taken a knock and there are days when I wonder whether everyone would be better off without me.

Having said that, today I am feeling an eensy bit more positive, so I don't want to dwell too much on the darkness. Suffice to say, I have been / am there, if you are in the black pit at the moment.

On a positive note, I have reached out for help and got some amazing responses. Weird as it may seem, I emailed Dom and told him how suicidal I was feeling; I hadn't wanted to trouble him before as he has a lot on his place. He has been marvellous. I emailed The Samaritans one especially bleak afternoon and they responded, saying they were glad I felt I could talk to them. I don't know why, but that sentence made me feel warm inside and has been very helpful. Perhaps because it didn;t make me feel like a burden. Also, I posted on a forum I visit regularly and got some lovely responses from friends old and new. Many had experienced the same thing and, in a funny way, it's reassuring to hear that it's part of a process. I have also had some wonderful, wonderful comments from Postcrossers - welcome, if you're visiting! Even though I feel in a dark place personally, I feel blessed to have some wonderful, loving people around me. I can feel you, even if I can't always respond.

I haven't blogged for ages because I couldn't motivate myself to take some pictures. That would have meant getting the camera out, charging it, finding something to photograph, finding some good light, arranging the pieces, uploading the images, editing them etc etc - it was just too many decisions. I missed you though. I love blogland, it gives me the opportunity to engage with the world in a voyeuristic way, but engage with it nevertheless. And it's warm, personable, friendly and inspiring.

I have always considered myself to be something of a bloke's girl and, having a brother, husband and two sons, that has always been useful. However, at the moment, I find I am craving female company (I hope that doesn't sound rude?!) I have been thinking about it a lot, and I realise that it's a need to feel mothered. I have spent the last 13 years of my life mothering, and now I feel as though I need something back. I don't mean this to be a criticism of my own mother at all, because this is quite an abstract feeling.

Let me sum it up:

I want to be somewhere safe, where I don't have to make any decisions. Somewhere where I feel loved and cherished. Somewhere clean and warm and comfortable, with clean, nice smelling bed linen. Somewhere I can relax completely and not feel guilty, or as though I am not pulling my weight. Someone who will hug me, and laugh with me and leave me alone if I need it. Someone who will understand me without needing to say a word. Somewhere I can undo myself and be properly vulnerable for the first time in my life, so that I can put myself back together properly and face the world again.

My husband really can't provide this for me, it's the mothering of an older woman I need. Someone warm and wise and who really, really wants the best for me.

Imagine you have clenched your fist for a long time, really, really tightly. It would hurt, wouldn't it? In order to recover from the pain you would have to gradually relax each of your fingers until they were straight and then massage them until the pain had left. And wait for a good long time until you had forgotten they had ever been clenched in the first place before you used that hand again.

That is where I am at the moment. My fist has been clenched for as long as I can remember. I guess I am in the process of relaxing, and I know it's going to take a long time.

Today I opened the curtains and blinds for the first time in a week and let the weak afternoon sunshine in. It's a start. Now I am going to wrap myself up in the afghan I made, and have a snooze on the sofa. Dom is home late this evening, so I have lots of time to get the chores done. I will iron his shirts, I think, and make a cake. A couple of little ways I can let my family know that I love them.

I have started Christmas gift knitting and it's really helping me through the tough times. Did I say I have had tonsillitis for a week now? Just in one tonsil, it's driving me mad. Anyway, tomorrow I will share some knitting pictures with you. At least I have written about the darkness, and now I can draw a line under it.

I hope all is well with you. I think about you often.

Chin up

Claire x