|Little did I know that this lamb stew was destined to be so unpopular|
There. I said it.
I used to silently cringe when friends declared they could not live without their dishwashers. How spoilt they sounded, I thought. I used to feel a weird sense of superiority about shunning dishwasher ownership, thinking that hand washing everything somehow made me a little bit more virtuous than those machine dependent women. Ridiculous, I know. And then came the dreary rainy day when it hit me. I spend a lot of my day stood at this sink, washing up - either with small riots breaking out in the other room because the children were left to their own devices for a bit too long, or, at a time when I'd rather be flopping on the sofa - and I am thoroughly fed up with it. Time to consider a conversion, I thought.
Boy, has it freed up a LOT of my time! Although if asked directly, I am sure I will calim I could easily live without it, I have kind of unashamedly joined the Dishwasher Fan Club nonetheless.
It's meant a bit more time for other things. Like decorating. I know, I know, I am becoming a decorating bore. But I am not even sorry. I popped to Homebase the other day, and was filled with joy to discover a BOGOF offer on Crown emulsion. So promptly chose colours for the dining room and the kitchen. Ready for some paint names? Cloud Burst, Gold Leaf, and (for the kitchen), Classic Duck Egg.
After a mini revamp of the coat pegs on Monday, and a break from decorating to be Chief Cuddler to a sick baby yesterday, today's decorating efforts saw a return to the woodwork. I think I have come to view sanding and painting door frames and skirting in a similar way to marking books in my previous life as a teacher. Okay at first, in fact, quite novel and fun (in the case of marking, you read what the kids you teach have written, realise some of what you've tried to teach them has sunk in, or enjoy an original answer to a question, and feel good). But then it all gets a bit samey samey. And dull. Dare I admit it, your standards slip a bit as the boredom kicks in, and you just want the job finished?
Enough decorating talk. After a day as Chief Cuddler to Grumpy Sick Baby, and the chef of the lamb stew that actually provoked tears and sustained periods of wailing from two out of four children, I decided to try my hand at a new craft. Sounds odd, I know, but after they were all tucked up in their beds, I opened up the felting kit my friend Imogen gave me for my birthday back in July.
The verdict? Felting is fun! A craft involving repeatedly stabbing a piece of fluffy wool until it looks like a petal was an ideal way to unwind from the day I'd had. And I now have a (rather large) funky looking flower to cheer up my winter coat. I went to bed happy, dreaming up all the other things I might make out of felt (there is a lot of merino wool left from the kit).