Domestic Goddess

I am not a domestic goddess. I would like to be. I'd say I am more of a domestic goddess in training.

There are certain aspects of my perceived notion of what it is to be a domestic goddess that I enjoy. Like baking. And, being an unashamed show off, I can fake other aspects of the title, too. Although, only for short periods of time. Such as pulling off a tidy house. When given plenty of warning that visitors are coming.

As for having a smoothly run household where it all hangs together in an organised, kind of way, and attention given to the bits of domesticity I don't like, definitely still in training. Just as well I have good friends I am happy to see when they pop by unannounced and catch my house as it usually is. A bit lived in, that is.

My old oven gloves were looking slightly sorry for themselves, having been a bit burnt and generally used. And the peg bag had been neglected in the rain a few times too many. Time for some new ones.

The vigilant reader will spot I have most definitely stuck to the January Rule here, recognising the fabrics used as leftovers from this and this. And, not having a big stash of bias binding, time to make some. I quite like the garish clash going on here. I am re-branding it as cheerful.

Now for some ironing?