Stuff Wot I Made….

Ok, so it’s been a while since I last posted anything – must do better!

We’ve had a busy time of late, and have now relocated form one side of London to the other into a house, rather than a shoe-box – which gives me more space to make stuff in. And we have house mates, so that gives me more excuses!

Having moved in a month ago I have already made one dress and two cakes – even though we’re not entirely unpacked and organised yet (well no sense in rushing these things!).

The first cake baked in the new house was a traditional Simnel Cake for Easter – complete with homemade marzipan. My first attempt at either, and I must say I was rather pleased with the result. As were the housemates.


I’ve also been following Cal Patch’s pattern drafting class on Creativebug – a little more slowly than I would have liked due to the move and, you know, having a job to go to. So far I have completed a shift dress, with pockets in the side seams and a bias faced neckline – it looks rather cute, but i’m adding more ease on the sleeves next time, as it’s a little tight there!


And then this weekend it was time for a celebration cake for the housemates birthday. It turned out like this…


…and has gone down rather well – but then it is a chocolate mudcake with peanut butter icing, chocolate ganache and peanut praline. Decadence on a plate!

Keep an eye out for more posts on things I’ve made over the past few months. In the meantime I best get on with the A-line skirt I’m working on – at the moment it looks like this…



NaPoWriMo – Day 30 – Failings

O how failings with impertinence cannot silent remain.
For your own failings publicly take another course
And what is not yours to share with those who deride you?
Without that derision may we demise united.
And our dreaded hate gain a multitude of identities,
Which our alliance cannot claim,
That, uninvited, empty praises combine.
O presence, what an enchantment you fail to cast!
But for your sweet employ that tortuous continuation
To bore the locale with thoughtlessness of prejudice,
Would take hold and empty heads sour in truth
And unlearn how to unify the disparate,
By disrespecting he who has passed.

NaPoWriMo – Day 29 – Cockfosters

Going to Cockfosters?
All that way, along the blue,
All that way to the very end.
Donde es Cockfosters?
More to the point, porque?
What can you see at that distant point,
Far from Heathrow and Turnham Green.
Here it is, the final stop,
Where the great plate ends
And the world halts.
Why else would they come so far
To travel the blue to the platform edge.
Mind the gap. Stand clear of the closing doors.
La turista has come beyond the yellow line
From the reddest red of her native land,
And here she stands gazing
At the remnants of creation.

NaPoWriMo – Day 26 – The Sea

The sea is calm to-night.
Glimmering and vast,
sweet is the night-air!
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow,
The eternal note of sadness in
The turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery.
The world,
Before us like a land of dreams,
Neither joy, nor light,
Nor peace, nor pain;
We are on a darkling plain
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

NaPoWriMo – Day 25 – The Ballad of the Unmarked Road

Beyond the door it lies unseen,

Far away from the laptop screen,

Winding through a world of green,

An endless unmarked road.


Heel and toe, and toe and heel,

Step by step to make it real,

Onwards gently, freedom feel,

Upon the unmarked road.


Field and forest, breezes blow

Around the senses as we go,

All creation we’ll come to know –

They line the unmarked road.


Unlock the door and hit the street,

Where calm and tranquil people meet,

Switch off the phone and on the feet,

To travel the unmarked road.

NaPoWriMo – Day 24 – Take a Size Minor

Take a size minor

For me, myself and I.

The anorak itemizes

Each flaw with distinction.

Eyes of mud float between

A maize snake riot above

And below a noisemaker zit.

Anemia zero kits outfit flesh and bone,

And atomize snakier veins

Curling around oat size ramekin pips.

Seize tiara, monk, and bathe my mirror

In a zen airtime soak of magnificence.