5 magazines a month

I have a glut of magazines land on my mat around now. Red and The Knitter and then Psychologies. At the Country Living fayre this year, I subscribed to their magazine - 'When in Rome' and all that - so now that comes along with its beautiful covers.

And then I found this beauty:

Just £5 for the first three issues. So beautiful. So inspiring. A lovely free gift to make too. What's not to like?

If the next two are as good as the first then I will need to find the money for this as well.

But one will have to go.

Psychologies was a present so I assume it will run out at the end of the year. 

Country Living was paid for up front so I can choose not to renew.

Red is non-negotiable as it keeps my finger on the pulse of what's happening and what I should be wearing.

I am finding The Knitter increasingly at odds with the things I like to make but everytime I say that there is something I like.

Which magazines do you read?

A frustrating time at the allotment

I like communicating and I love communication. I really enjoy thinking of different ways to deliver messages and I am always really switched on when I hear of strategies or really cool ideas. It has taken me a long time to realise that this perhaps where my skills are - if only because I am passionate and chatty.
At the allotment AGM last month, comments were made about the lack of interest in the shop, Open Day and tidying borders. I couldn't stay quiet. I took a deep breath (this being my first AGM) and asked how they communicated to Plot Holders. Of course I already knew the answer. There is no communication. It is all word of mouth - but there are lots of people who have no idea who the Committee Members are, have no idea who to speak to if they want to donate produce for the events or how to communciate with the Secretary if they have a proposal for an AGM.
For the last four years, I have had no idea what is happening or who to talk to.
So, I suggested a few simple things that could be done. Nothing major - letting people know key dates, producing eye-catching posters, advertising the contact details for the Committee and letting everyone know when the Shed Shop is open and what it sells.
I thought it had been well received and I thought it would be a great thing for me to do. I had some nice supportive comments after the meeting.
And then it all went quiet.
Last week I was told, to be fair somewhat sheepishly, that it had been decided that there was no point contacting plot holders regularly as people aren't interested. I was told that posters for the Open Day had been done and that details of the plots that Committee Members were on would be put on display.
I was disappointed. I don't agree that there is no point; but I don't like to make a fuss so I said very little - except to point out that the time of the Open Day was missing on the posters
Maybe I need to work on my communication skills.

My garden, 6am

My Spencer rose, planted on top of the ashes of Spencer the Dachshund. He wasn't a tough dog so he got a frilly rose.

An iris that has grown in the middle of a difficult part of the garden, when we haven't had proper rain for 7 weeks. It's even more special as I don't remember planting it!

This raised bed should become a heady mix of my favourites - snap dragons, sweet peas and lavendar.

There is a microscopic bunch of grapes in the middle of the photo. Exciting!

Oh yes, snails all over the place after last night's 'light drizzle'.

On children

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts, 

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.


You may strive to be like them,
But seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

As living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, 

And he bends you with his might
Tthat his arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, 

so he loves also the bow that is stable.

Kahlil Gibran

Pyjama Drama

We attended a taster session of Pyjama Drama this morning in Kesgrave. All we had to do was turn up with teddy and Scarlett in pyjamas but despite being up at seven, I still cut it fine - imagine how late I would have been if she had needed clothes on.
My experience with classes has been a little hit and miss since Scarlett has been walking. We seem to have spent a lot of money only for me to carry her for the entire session or do much of the class by myself with her sobbing and watching at a distance. Consequently I have only been taking her swimming once a week (and even then I sometimes wonder if she will ever be happy in the water).
Pyjama Drama encourages children to play, explore, pretend and dance. At today's class we pretended we were at a pyjama party, making a midnight feast, hiding when someone came up the stairs and tidying up after ourselves. The children played and laughed under a large parachute and there was plenty of singing.
The Suffolk classes are run by Jane Cole, coincidentally I went to school with Jane. I always admire people who run children's classes - the confidence, the empathy and the connection is just something I either don't have or couldn't promise week in, week out. Jane doesn't disappoint and kept the children, and parents, captivated for 45 minutes.
So, I've booked a place and written out a cheque.
We will be more organised over the coming Saturday mornings.
The only potential blot on the landscape? Scarlett seems to have inherited my practical and analytical nature. She turned to me at one point and said 'but Mummy, where is the cupboard?'.