Category: Uncategorized

A close shave

Okay, this is going to sound like an infomercial. I was very disappointed when a lovely woollen pullover pilled almost the instant I put it on. It quickly became so lumpy that I wore it only around the house and was tempted to discard it entirely. Then, in the weekend, I bought a fabric shaver and the results are miraculous! To me, anyway. I’ve tried other fabric shavers which have been a lot of hard work for little result. My sister-in-law has a scary story about a shaved jumper which ended up full of holes! After much trepidation, I was very relieved that the new shaver did what it is supposed to do – and is easy to use and rechargeable. Today, I wore my pullover when I went out as it is almost as good as new.

Before (actually the inside which wasn’t shaved)
Fabric Shaver
After

The pilling experience makes me wary of imported woollen clothing. This pullover is from a reputable brand (Seasalt Cornwall) from a reputable shop (Ballantynes) which made it all the more disappointing. The fabric shaver has saved the day – and since I’m mentioning brands, it’s a Russell Hobbs.

The New Zealand-made woollens I usually buy do not pill very much, if at all – especially the high quality woollens from Untouched World. When our jumpers were hand-knitted by our mothers and aunts there was no such thing as pilling!

The care label on the blue pullover says ‘due to the natural characteristics of the yarn some pilling may occur‘ (my italics). I would replace the word ‘some’ with ‘total’ – and I did follow the washing instructions (gentle hand washing in wool detergent). Yet it is 46% wool, 41% recycled nylon and 3% elastane – not entirely natural yarn. Still, let’s hope I don’t have to shave it too often, although even from today’s wear I can see some pilling again. The label describes it as a ‘Cloud Chasing Jumper’. Maybe it’s meant to be lumpy, like clouds.

Scented Moomins

What would Tove Jansson (1914 – 2001), the inventor of Moomins, think of all the merchandise based on her work? The Moomin machine is making millions according to a shop assistant in Ballantynes where I was perusing the Moomin china display last week.

There’s a Moomin World in Japan – and now one in Finland, plus a Moomin Museum. I’ve heard Moomins are even making inroads into China. The latest merch (according to my regular Moomin fanletter) is the soaps at Lush. Rather than rage against the machine, I chose to succumb to its charms.

The soap Moomins reclining on a bath bomb cloud are great for scenting my sock drawer (note the Moomin socks – and others from Scandinavia). The Snufkin gummy soap gets a bit out of control in the shower. It is hard to hang on to and tends to ricochet off the walls and bounce across the tile floor which makes shower time fun. Luckily, the green slime does not stain the tiles. This soap is based on the reclusive and independent character Snufkin. It’s a long way from the author’s original vision for these characters which she feared were taking precedence over her ‘serious’ art work. Little did she know how much! However, the popularity of Moomins has revived interest in her murals, novels, short stories, political cartoons and her life in general.

Self portrait of Tove Jansson and her Moomin characters including Snufkin with flowers on his hat and a pipe, while on the top left is Snufkin as depicted in the latest animated series, MoominValley.

Supermarket in the backyard

We’re out of broccoli. There’s no time to go to the supermarket, so it’s out to the back garden to see if there’s some broccolini – there is! – and to pick some parsley and spinach. Broccolini isn’t as ‘dense’ as broccoli, growing on long separate stalks. You can pick some and more will grow. At this time of year, when the garden looks a bit scruffy, it’s good to have some success. The spinach and broccolini turn a bright green in the pot.

Bookshelf

My reading log notebook (on the left) is full. I like to keep a written record of my reading, although I have a digital one on goodreads. For my next log, I’ve chosen the one in the middle which I bought last year at Mrs Blackwell’s Village Bookshop in Greytown. When that’s full (it’s small, it won’t take long) I’ll move on to the one with the embroidered cover from Scorpio Books. Your suspicion that I have a thing for all things book would be justified.

I’ve read eight books in the last month (August). My favourites were Be Brave, The Life of a Pacific Correspondent by Barbara Dreaver, and Memorial Days by Geraldine Brooks. Both of these are memoirs. Another notable book I read was Relearning to Read: Adventures in Not-Knowing by Ann Morgan who encourages the followers of her blog to read books in translation to widen our understanding of the world.

In her latest post, she writes that in this kind of reading:

… I am a guest in someone else’s space, given the opportunity to see how things are done elsewhere, without any attempt to mediate or dilute them for my perceived taste. This can be challenging, particularly if you are used to being centred in the books you read, but it is also a great privilege: a welcome disruption to the habits that surround us and a reminder that customs that can often seem mandatory are just choices. 

Her recommendations have opened up new worlds to me, but so too have books written originally in English. Two of these I have read on the cusp of the month of August: The Mighty Red by Louise Erdrich, which I finished at the end of July, and The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett which I finished just after midnight last night. Another is a biography: Fulvia: The Woman who Broke all the Rules in Ancient Rome by Jane Draycott. Fluvia, born in 80 BCE, has been mis-represented in history, according to the author who sets out to make corrections to the record. In the process, she educates the reader about the lives of Roman women and the mine-field that was politics of the time. It was somewhat distressing to find parallels with today.

In between these books, I have kept up a pretty steady stream of so-called cosy crime for sheer pleasure and, perhaps, for restoring my equilibrium (or complacency?). I identified with this comment about the genre by a friend who often recommends good cosy crime books: “Reading this was like a cat soaking in warmth in a puddle of sunlight”.

What I learned

By the end of the day (yesterday) I had learned a few things from my ‘home schooling’. While I missed the exercise of getting to class and the social interactions, I enjoyed the quiet, the space and, especially, not having to pack up after two hours. I was able to concentrate and consider how the eye sees. I spoilt the watering can sketch with too much detail*, but was pleased with the light, shadow and texture of the copper pot. The jug (sideways) was … ho hum. Often when I take photos I am disappointed with the result, which makes me aware of how the eye sees differently from the camera. A sketch or painting, on the other hand, can focus on what the eye – and even the mind – sees.

A day of painting has sharpened my perception of things around me: what pleases me about objects in the house, and the forms and shadows in the garden. It has increased my appreciation of the work of artists – how they fill the frame and use light and shape, and what they are seeing.

Ornaments by Frances Hodgkins, 1942. Gouache on paper, 565 x 384 mm. Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki

‘Ornaments’ by Frances Hodgkins is very busy. The domestic objects on the windowsill begin to merge with the wilder outdoors, so that it becomes not just a painting you look at but a conversation inside your head. I know from her earlier work that she is capable of realistic and perfectly proportioned work with correct perspective. That she chooses not to worry about that so much in her later paintings gives a clearer idea of what she is seeing.

I don’t aspire to be Frances Hodgkins (well, maybe I do!) but she is often in the back of my mind when I sketch and paint. I can learn from her.

*This brought back a sharp memory from high school art class where I painted and painted so much on one painting that to me it looked drowned and oppressive. The art teacher (Valerie Heinz, known for her own work) was very nice about it, but I was deeply disappointed. It didn’t match what I saw in my head.

Home school

Lots of ‘excuses’ for not making it to watercolour class this morning. It was cold. The deck was treacherously slippery with frost over rain. Would the pavements be slippery too if I walked or biked to class? I looked at the clothes I had put out ready to wear and instead reached for my warm track pants and woolly jumper. Half an hour before class was due to start I phoned in my apology. Then I sat down at my desk with the sun at my back and began the project I’d been planning for class: working with watercolour pencils, using photos I’d taken previously.

I unpacked my bag
got ready to start
and was absorbed by the task
with a photo for inspiration

A birthday card I made in the weekend makes me smile and gives me a bit more confidence in my creativity.

A cat card and cat book for a person who loves his cat
Inside
The back

Note: The extra ‘R’ in birthday is deliberate. It’s hard to see in the photo, but some letters are in a different colour to spell out the recipient’s name for which I needed an extra ‘R’.

Wagging school

Having read an article about truancy in The Press this morning, here I am not going to my 10 o’clock watercolour class. My reasons aren’t as tragic as those of students who don’t go to school, just a feeling that I’ve made a mistake enrolling in this class – although at least the two sessions I have been to so far suggest that it isn’t working for me. (Nothing to do with the very helpful and expert tutor.)

Last night I packed my bag and took some photos to use in today’s class on monochromatic tonal value scale and 3D modelling which I enjoyed last time I did the course three years ago. I was too sluggish to get through this morning’s chores (including two loads of Mum’s washing which is a task fixed to a Monday, somehow) and get there on time, even though I managed it last week.

My 2023 efforts
My 2023 3D Modelling
Lemons for 3D Modelling today
Jug for 3D Modelling today
Copper pots for today’s class – nice shadows
Kitchen scales – perhaps too ambitious for today’s class

My desk is clear of the watercolour gear I’ve packed in my bag, and there is the colouring-in book I haven’t looked at for ages. I feel a little frisson of delight looking at what I’ve completed this year, and there is one partly done. Perhaps that will be my artistic outlet! A bit like my retreats into cosy crime instead of those ‘serious’ books which too often (but not always) are put aside. (Speaking of which, in the process of weeding books from my shelves yesterday, I re-discovered a book about the Anglo-Saxons and have it open on my desk ready to read.)

Writing this post has been like giving myself a ‘talking to’. Time to persevere with the harder options, perhaps?

Hail, sleet and snow to low levels

Hail on the deck this morning

Hail is bouncing off the roof next door. Occasionally, puffy snowflakes fall, while the southwest wind blows rain onto the window. The Port Hills are obscured behind grey cloud; it will be snowing up there. Now and again, the sun comes out. I’ve replenished the bird feeders. It’s 1.6 degrees outside.

Yesterday I biked home from watercolour class against a warm nor-west wind and the washing on the line was crisp and dry by early afternoon. Today, Mum and Felix are in their armchairs by the fire.