Hairy Handicrafts

About 20 months ago, I decided I was sufficiently pregnant to be vaguely secure in commissioning  my father to reproduce this


on the chimney breast in Harry’s room. Given that my Dad is just like me, there was a fair-ish delay in construction, which even featured an interim tree.

On Sunday, he came up with the goods proper.



Had my pneumonia-stricken-but-almost-recovered mother not relapsed this week, then no doubt he would have been back over to wire up the lights. Yes, there are twinkly LED lights set in the ceiling beams of the little rooms.

My Dad rocks.

I made Harry some new blackout curtains this week to replace the original roman blind I made whilst pregnant.


I used glass fibre rods, which shed tiny god-awful splinters like buggery if you A) hack madly at them with blunt scissors to trim them to size and B) get the size wrong so they stab through the fabric and C) don’t seal the ends properly. The whole thing was covered with these dreadful splinters (which cause irritation wildly out of proportion to their size) and has had to be burnt; this is a big shame, because it took me ages. Yet another classic case of a Hairy ship being spoilt for h’apporth of tar.

But hey, the new ones are funky and match his bean bag. I may get around to buying the hooks to hold the tie-backs sometime this year.


Now the sewing machine has actually been dragged, clanking, from its lair, I am all fired up to do more. I’m planning to tackle some R cushions next.  The H is covered thickly in smeared chocolate and Wotsits (I can hear you judging me) and the A got a thorough biro-ing earlier today.


By the time I finish the Y, he’ll be using the others to prop up his Wii. Or whatever.

My bursts of creativity do tend to be cyclic, but as my enthusiasm for making things is riding high, I thought I would tell you about Pay it Forward. I caught sight of this nice little idea on Katie’s blog, and promptly volunteered to have some lovely knitwear bestowed upon me.

Essentially the idea is thus: if you are one of the first 3 people to leave a ‘Gimme!’ comment here, then I will hand craft you An Item Of Some Description and despatch it, wherever you are in the world. Those three people must agree to pay it forward and make the same offer to readers of their blog. The gift can be of any price range and you have a whole year to make it. I may even make more than 3 if anyone I think is totally well-deserving of some quality Hairy agricultural tat doesn’t quite make the cut… so don’t be shy if you’re late to the party. You never know your… well, lets call it luck, shall we? Leastways, until you open the parcel.

I was going to tell you in excruciating detail all about my misery about going to the gym 3 times a week, having my metabolic rate shoot up, and consequently eating so much that I put on 8 pounds over Christmas. But relating all the tears is now beyond me. Bygones. Suffice to say: I am still 4 pounds up on where I was when I joined the gym (wail, sob, kick the fucking wall, howl), but am sticking grimly to the thrice-weekly torture. I will shift this evil bloody weight before it kills me. I will. I will I will I will.

On that note, I have to go away now and make something wonderfully calorific, as I am meeting some spectacularly nice and interesting people this Saturday, and if I can’t make myself thin by then, then I’m going to damn well try and make them all fat.

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