Saturday

Evening, fellas!

I have commented before on the work we're doing in Bumbaleerie Mansions - mainly painting SLASH decorating and it is the opposite of fun. Anyway, we're needing a kitchen floor. Bumbaleerie Kitchens is quite big so we're needing quite a bit of floor. And we've been putting it off for ages, because Husband hates nothing more, NOTHING, you understand, MORE than salesmen. He hates that no matter how many times you say 'we're just looking, fanks' they still insist on telling you all this junk - like, how many colours the tiles come in, how they can be fitted, how they'll look upside down, but NEVER THE PRICE.

So, we need carpet for two rooms, walnut floor for the hall (YAAAASS!) and slate tiles for the kitchen. Easy.

First shop: Salesman sidles over, catches us unawares. Husband was looking at prices and sizes, I was seeing how far my fingers sunk into the fibers. 'HOW CAN I HELP YOUS?!' bellowed the saleschap. (DIVERSION: I hate nothing more, NOTHING MORE, than people saying 'yous' (as in the plural of 'you', I'm assuming). It's NOT A REAL WORD)) So Husband was already twitching, and even though my nerves were jangling, I managed to say 'WE'RE JUST LOOKING FANKS' (WJLF). And Husband and I looked back at the carpet.
'Righto!' said the cheery one. 'Well, just so you know, we've got a special offer on blah blah words words selling carpet blah blah more talking...' and so on for FOUR MILLION YEARS. Eventually, we muttered something about maybe wanting laminate or learning to fly so it wouldn't matter what we were standing on, and glumly walked hand-in-hand to the door (me and Husband, not me and Husband and Salesfella)

'I don't even want to do this any more' whined Husband once we were back in the safety of the car. I rubbed his hand soothingly.

Second shop: Started well! We found loads of offcuts that were big enough for our rooms, nice nice. And we were congratulating each other on not having to speak to anyone when we came across a salesboy hiding between the rolls of carpet. Hiding. Between the rolls. Of carpet. Husband said later, it was like a praying mantis waits for prey.

'Hellooooooo! Can I help yous?'
'WJLF'
'OK-doke, what is it yous are looking for today?'
Small silence. 'Carpets. That's why we're in a carpet shop'
'And do yous know what colour it is yous are looking for?'
...it was at this point that I held my hands over my ears and started shrieking. My nerves cannot cope with repeated uses of 'yous'. I'm like Mrs Bennett with my nerves (wee Pride and Prej ref there).

EXIT STAGE LEFT.

Third shop: A saleslady! I was so pleased to see her, I started to weep over her polyester skirt. But! My relief was short lived. She was one of THEM. But, a bit more mental and scary. She curled her lip at me, did a quick up-and-down of my outfit, grimaced at Husband and barked 'How may I help yous today?' Husband looked at me mournfully. So, I took the bull by the horns and said 'Do you have a toilet I can use?' The salescow recoiled (I don't know why,  I wasn't going to pee on her. Maybe I looked like I was though), and said 'Our toilets are for customers ONLY. Are yous interested in flooring?' 'NOPE!' I bellowed joyfully, 'WE'LL JUST BE OFF THEN!' And we were off.

But that means that we've still no carpets/wood/tiles.

So, to make today not a total wash out, I made some foccacia or maybe focaccia or even foccaccia. Here's some pics:

Me kneading.

Me sick of kneading, the dough's WELL sticky

Me developing the 'Bumbaleerie Method' of kneading. Much more nice.

In the oven. Exciting, isn't it?

And the finished product, complete with garlic oil, chili oil and the ol' balsamic:

Go and buy Paul Hollywood's book, it's so easy and delicious and the money will help him continue to be a Silver PHOX!

Holidayz! Woop woop!

Finally, finally made it to the end of term and let me tell you Chinas, I didn't think it was ever going to come. Now, people don't realise but Hairy Librar-ys don't get the same hollybags as teachers, so I have to work next week and a week in August but apart from that I'm offffffffffffff for a lovely FUNF weeks! Yaas!

Husband is working a lot of this weekend so I've grasped the opperchancity to visit the 'rents. And it is MAGNIFISAUR, let me tell you! Len and Roy live in the middle of nowhere, so it's all trees and air and squirrels and SILENCE. I actually grew up here but I've forgotten what it's like so every so often I go 'LOOK! There's a SQUIRREL! I LOVE IT!' and everyone sighs and looks at me pityingly.

Their nearest town is Helensburgh, which is on the West Coast of Scotvegas. Helensburgh is a proper seaside town, you should totally come for a visit. Only in Helensburger can you try the best ice cream in the entire universe (and I make it my business to know) courtesy of Dinos. They make it with condensed milk (I think?) and it is so good that me and Husband once fell out because he took a lick of mine when I wasn't looking AND HE'D ALREADY FINISHED HIS. I'm still furious thinking about it, actually. Also in Helensburgh is the recently opened Wee Kelpie, selling gourmet fish 'n chips. Today I had monkfish with homemade tarter sauce, here's a picture to make your pipes water:

So good, soooo good. And after we'd eaten it, me and Sister went to the wool shop and I got a new project:

...which I will be continuing with later, accompanied by my good friend MISTER RIOJA:

Oh yes! Good times! There's a new fabric shop opened in Helensburgh, and I so wish I'd been able to get a picture of it but I didn't want the owner to think I was a weirdo. But it's lovely, it's teeny tiny and crammed FULL OF STUFF, so obviously I felt right at home. And I got new fabric and binding but I've not taken a picture of it yet so you'll have to wait until next time. Oh, I do like to build the tension on the ol' blog!

Right so I've talked a lot on here about Len and how good at making she is. Len is also an exceptionally modest person and does not like to go on and on about what she's been uptae. We're very similar, in that respect (false). Anyhoo, she's agreed to let me showcase her most recent project. BEHOLD!

It's made from Michael Miller fabric and I WANT it. I WANT IT! I want it so much, I'm genuinely considering getting married again so I can use it. It's so, so lovely and perfect for Weddinging Around, which you do a lot of when you're getting married. I've been telling her for ages, she needs to get them up on Etsy because I'm certain people would buy them but she won't have it. She's just handed me a glass of the hooch, what a nice lady she is! Good old Len Goodman. But isn't the bag just MAGNIFICENT?

So chaps, I'm off to enjoy the sound of the rain bouncing off the ground, get stuck into my knitting and have a good old hearty slurp of the vino. I hope you have a lovely evening too!

About Me

I've had a really busy week this week and have done none of the making, so I have nothing to say about anything. Recently I was having a conversation with a friendly work-mate and she asked me 'what do you even write about on your blog?' and I took a deep breath, opened my mouth and...my mind went blank. Then my subconscious kicked in and to fill the now-awkward silence I suddenly yelled 'STUFF!!!!' right into her face. She looked a little startled, as was I.

But, all respect to her, she carried on: 'So do you have personal details on there?' and again, my mind left me and I bellowed 'NOPE!!' It was at that point that she shuffled off, probably to find someone normal to talk to.

So I thought I'd tell you more about myself. Be a bit more personal, if you like. You probably won't like it, but try to be brave. Strap yourselves in chaps, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Name: Baroness Eilidhbelle Sittingonher-Bumbaleerie IV

Age: Mental or physical? Mental: thirteen. Physical: around eighty-five. But in birth years, twenty-six gaaaah!

Appearance: Ginormous face. Mad minging-brown curly hair. More eyebrows than the average person. Slow in gait. A tad cross-eyed. Here's a photo:

NOTE: Husband looks really grumpy in this photo because we'd just come out of Steptoe's Yard and he was still mulling over parting with his hard-earned Scottish Drachma just to keep me, HIS WIFE, happy. Rude. Also, I look blind but I am not.

Profession: Librarian. Yep, I'm a fully qualified hairy library-y. And I work in a school. There is nothing else I can say to make this more exciting. No, wait, I've thought of something: Catwoman was a Librarian. So, in conclusion, I am DEFINITELY Catwoman (FACT).

Pets: Two cats, a stupid one and an unfriendly one. Here's a photo of the unfriendly one being forced to sit on my knee:

He looks like he's being tortured even though I brushed his fur for ages and lured him on with treats. He only likes Husband, and only then it's because he knows Husband doesn't like him. Awkward and annoying. Although he does look exactly like a snow leopard, and he walks like one, which is cool. Also, he's not scared of foxes. But he is scared of pumpkins. Cats are rubbish.

Family: Len, Roy, Sister and Brother. Gran, Grandad, Aunt, Aunt, Aunt, Aunt, Aunt, Aunt, Uncle, Cousin x25.

I can't think of anything else that you might like to know so I'm going to end this post with an anecdote about my life.

Bumbaleerie Mansions is situated on a lovely quiet street that just so happens to be a short cut to the local school. Recently I was doing some gardening (drinking in the garden) when some hooded youths walked by and flicked an empty Haribo wrapper into my hedge. I work in a school, so I know how to speak to the young.

'Yoo hoo! Homie!' I called 'You've WELL dropped your empty sweets bag into my crib. I'm totes 'down' with you dudes 'chilling' whilst 'roamin' past my gaff, but pleaz put your rubbish into de binz, word?' They looked at me in total amazement, probably not used to post-teens such as myself having such a confident grip on street vernacular. One of the youths began to approach me, so I held out my hand in case he wanted to 'fist-bump' to secure our alliance. He did not.

'I'm terribly sorry, Miss, I didn't realise I'd dropped it. I'll put it in the bin immediately. Lovely garden!' he smiled at me kindly and I beamed back. We're proper mates now.

I told Husband about this later and he said mildly 'That's nice dear.' but he's WELL 'jel' that he doesn't have someone watching his back in the hood.

Bursts of Creativity!

I've got a very large fabric stash, which is magnificent, but probably not the best way to get good at this making lark. Today I decided that I was GETTING GOOD at something...but I didn't want to use any of the wonderful fabric that makes up my stash. So I went to a cheapo fabric shop near Bumbaleerie Mansions and set about merrily chopping up a vintage apron pattern, pinning it to my cheapski (but still nice) fabric and sewing happily into the evening. I didn't finish it, but I got pretty far:

That's my kitchen. Here's some things that are good about this apron:

 - I got to practice cutting out patterns
 - I got to have another go at bias binding, which didn't work so well last time I tried it
 - It fits me

Here's some less good things about this apron:

 - I cut the fabric wrong and ran out, so the bodice part is one-sided (it should be double-sided)
 - I'm fairly certain I did the bias binding wrong
 - It fits me, but it's supposed to be for my friend, who is smaller than me. So it's actually too big.

But it looks better than my first attempt, which is proper dodge:

Those are my hands. I made that binding, which is why it looks mank. I didn't have a clue how to do it, BUT I still tried so I should definitely get some points for that. I also cut that fabric wrong, so what should look like romantic bird-and-butterfly print actually looks like some horrible, twisted headless-monster-bird freak show.

This week I learned how to make these cool bows, from a brilliant tutorial you can find at 'How About Orange'. It's amazingly easy, and you can make them out of old magazine pages which is MAGNIFISAUR if you are like me (i.e weird) and don't like to throw anything away.

I've started a new tea cosy, but it's getting ripped. I think the pattern is dodgy, I've been knitting for ages, and am fairly good at most patters but I've never been able to make sense of this one.I thought I'd give it another bash last night but it didn't turn out well, so I went in a sulk and flung it over to the other side of the couch. It's still there, mocking me for being a quitter.

That's my dress, legs, baffies, bag and bottle of water. Baffies is a Scottish word ( I think?) for slippers, and it's one of my favourite words EVAH. I am sitting on our leather couch and Husband was on the other one which is called........the cuddler! Isn't that a lovely name for a couch? And it's amazeballs, it's huge and squashy and just big enough for two cuddlers. Husband hates sitting on it with me though because I fidget every two minutes and insist on going on the inside, so he has to get up ALL THE TIME to bring me stuff, such as cheese, knitting, my phone, scissors, something to amuse me, a bouncy ball, some juice.......oooh, ANYTHING! Here's Husband on the cuddler:

He is WELL comfy, I think you'll agree.

P.S. If you look closely at this picture you can see my knitting pin poking out sinisterly from the bottom of the picture. Husband clearly has no idea it's there MWAH HA HA HAHAHAHA!