Blog Archives
Cloth mountains.
I hate socks right now. Who invented socks? Please show yourself and pair all these please.
That is all.
Coversation starter.
There’s a dog on the other side.
We must make contact.
We must let them know we are here.
And then tell them that we’re bigger than them and their mum.
Still life. (Hot weather edition).
Humidity and thirty degree heat means one thing. Ice lollies, shade and fan on.
Frannie is being kept in as she has only one fast speed setting and Bonnie is setting a lovely example of a dead dog and sprawling her long bones wherever I seem to step.
Everything is sticky.
Swansea is baking hot today and our old stone terrace house has heated up lovely and is roasting us slowly.
Rules.
It’s a bit hard seeing a whole stadium full of football fans shouting for their teams on the television yet you can’t leave the house because there’s been a positive Covid case in your year at school.
Last week of school before the summer and it’s back to online learning with the cats.
Bee kind.
Lots of creepy crawling flowering plants grow in little places on the old stone walls. They always have thrived and grow on everyone’s walls. Brightest of purples this time of year with the happy drone of busy bees.
I’ve added lots of pots this year with herbs and trailing flowers. It’s plant chaos and I love the mess.
The lavender is enormous this year so the bee party is going to be lovely. I’m hoping to see a return of the hummingbird hawkmoth I saw one year, it really looks like a little hummingbird.
No chemicals, no weedkiller, just a pair of hands and a cat interested in digging.
Sky cat.
Miya likes to come in through the roof window this time of year. Obviously as late as possible and normally making quite a racket as she plops onto the floor of the loft, startling Millie.
How does she climb up?
Well, she scales a stone garden wall and then leaps vertically up the side of our house to access the roof. Terrifying.
Both agree the swift show is wonderful and are very happy the sun is warmer and the clouds are bubbling high into the long, light evenings.
Roll up.
There are drop in clinics running this weekend for currently the youngest portion of the national Covid vaccination program, the eighteen year olds.
Millie had her text through a few days ago notifying her she could attend one of these clinics.
She had to take a photographic identification so we dug out her passport.
I drove down with her to the enormous film studios on the outskirts of the city, it was quite something driving into it, lots of run down industrial units colonised by flocks of noisy seagulls.
We parked up and she put a mask on and joined the queue with lots of other young people. Red stripy tape and orange bollards, they all stood apart without being asked. Some on their own, some with mates, some with parents, most on their phones probably checking in with a nice selfie and a hashtag #gotstabbed
Our children have had many vaccines in their lives already, this one felt different. Probably because of it’s newness and it’s immediacy. The other vaccines as babies you knew there was a slim chance of them getting the said diseases. This one is different isn’t it?
I waited an hour in the car watching other parents in their cars, watching the shuttle bus pull up bringing more young people. It was busy.
Millie texted me while inside, in her words:
There was no daylight inside, the building was really big but the ceilings were low and everywhere was white..
Corridors were white too with small windows in where I could see people sat inside. Lots nurses and doctors walking around in their uniforms often wheeling trolleys with large computers on and stacked up carts with the medical supplies on.
I sat in a waiting area next to another girl (well 2 metres next to her) and we chatted about stuff. When it was my turn, I was taken through to a station and they asked me some questions about if I was well. Then I received the injection and waited for a few minutes to make sure I was feeling fine.
And then out she came, clutching an information sheet and asking for lunch.
Don’t lock the cat in.
Mam.
Where’s the cat?
Which one?
What do you mean you haven’t seen her?
Walks fifty times past the studio window.
Well I’ve called her. She’s not coming, she’s probably on her rounds.
She’ll be back soon.
She is still not speaking to me.
Tomorrow is only a day away.
This post is not about today.
This is about tomorrow.
Because tomorrow my children are going out on their own for the first time in over nine weeks.
They will meet with friends and do kids stuff.
While remaining two metres apart.
It’s your eyebrow raising, not mine…
But it’s time.
Come sit with me.
I have too any words tonight to write. Too many emotions.
The end of May is here.
The trees are full of leaves, the breeze is cold today.
The nights are so light now, that dawn chorus is so early. Can’t be morning yet?
The news is full of outrage and retribution today.
Social media is the same.
It’s draining and pointless. There is no solution, not yet. There is talk of a vaccine and trials and an antibody test to be rolled out soon but nothing concrete.
I just want more of that mint chocolate from the cupboard but I’ve eaten the last square.
There’s a robin singing, I think it’s been singing all night under that new LED streetlamp.
How do you like your head in the morning?
Fill me with coffee.
Keep it going.
Right to the top.
Floats away.
The Longest Spring.
The dry weather we have had since the middle of March has no sign of letting up. We are no strangers to rain in Swansea, I have often joked that a day without rain is indeed a drought around these parts.
Spring has unfolded itself, pretty much rain free and the longer days and warm sunshine have made this lock-down feel most surreal.
The dry streets, now littered with plastic don’t feel like Wales. There are few puddles. The grass is growing, the trees have leaves again and there is blossom.
The birdsong is easier to hear with less cars on the road and the jackdaws flock on the rooftops in full nesting fever. There isn’t a chimney around here without a battle of black wings and chattering.
Just the humans, locked up, safe from the world.
Shoot.
Myles attached an old plant pot with an old viking shield to make a basket ball hoop onto the side of my studio today.
Gruff has not stopped all afternoon. Evie and Millie have played with it too.
Within the course of the afternoon various toys experienced the joy of being hurled through the hoop and being fished out of the compost heap (which is to the side of my studio).
Gruff is now filthy from fishing things out of the compost heap and his feet are black from being barefoot all day.
The laughter and cackles were wonderful to hear.
The Moonbeam club.
We go way back the moon and me. I’ve walked many times in the dark over the years when the moon has been high and bright in the sky.
One night, I walked up the garden in my pyjamas, clutching a howling newborn. The moonlight was a welcome distraction whilst I soothed my little bundle of noise.
Some nights, the sky has been filled with the noise of drunks singing, some nights have been filled with barking dogs and other nights, there was simply the whisper of trees and wind.
One full moon, I heard the shrieks of a tawny owl over a floodlit valley.
I’ve huddled under a bridge while the moon shone, hoping my problems would melt away but it just shone as close as it could to my crouching figure in the shadows.
And one time, I walked in despair, neither caring nor looking and the moon continued to shine.
Last night I walked in the cold, solstice, moonshine and it shone right through me and dog for our whole walk.
I was taking a walk with an old friend you see.
I’m sure there are many people taking a walk tonight to escape this time of year and I hope they find their answers under the moon or at least know they are not alone.
Wishing you all a peaceful time at mid winter. To moonlit nights.
Bonnie breaks the internet.
I’ve been looking at all my drawings of Bonnie and thought you might enjoy this little selection of her best moments.
Bonnie, the hurricane, the bottomless pit, the legend, my girl. Still ever the wiggle machine and all round stinkpot of love.
A new arrival.
Tomorrow is a big day. We are missing Arnie terribly and although no cat could ever fill his paws, we have a home that’s missing a certain something. That something is a cat.
I’m happy to say that a cat answered our job application and interviewed flawlessly.
Renee is three years old and was found abandoned in an empty house, pregnant and very dirty. She was rescued by the Friends of Animals Wales who cared for her when she had her two kittens. Please have a look at the amazing work they do and if you’re looking for a animal to re-home, please think of them.
She has been in foster care with a very lovely lady and is now ready for her new beginning so she will be coming home tomorrow to meet everybody.
And yes she currently rules over a dog so Bonnie will be happy about that I’m sure.
Just look at that tail!
Fifteen years.
She draws, she loves jaffa cakes and has the biggest heart going. Happy birthday Millie, I think we need more room for all our sketchbooks.
![millie 15[1921]](https://doodlemum.files.wordpress.com/2018/05/millie-151921.jpg)
Maffs.
Can’t be shown, won’t be shown. Has to learn it himself. Can’t think who on earth he gets that from.
Home-coming.
Brought Arnie’s ashes home today. We’re going to buy a plant and put him in the garden where he liked to sit in the sun and watch the sparrows chirp.
Spring is coming.
Arnie. A lifetime in my sketchbook.
Here is a life lived in washing piles and fluffy toys. A life that padded out gently last week but never ever will be forgotten. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed drawing them. Break the internet with cat drawings and purry love.
Hair to give.
Evie has been asking me for a while now that she would like to donate her very long hair to the Little Princess Trust a charity that takes donated hair and transforms them into wigs for children undergoing cancer treatment.
On Saturday she had all her locks chopped off and has been guarding her precious plaits ready for me to post them off.
I’m very proud of her for wanting to donate her hair, it’s a lovely, kind thing to do. She’s looking very grown up with her new hair do. I thinks it looks lovely.
Seven days to go…
Ninja is sitting on some eggs and they’re not hers, in fact they’re not from any of my hens. They’ve been brought in from our local community farm.
It takes twenty one days for fertile chicken eggs to incubate and we’re almost there. This time next week, we may hear cheeping again in our nursery coop.
She rarely leaves her nest, only coming out once a day to stuff her face with corn. The other hens have been cordoned off for now until we see what’s hatched.
.
Fourteen.
Brand new headphones this year to plug the world and its many memes straight into your head, graphic novels with zombies in and a tonne of drawing stuff.
She’s doing great.
Romans go home.
Evie has a set of story books based in Roman times. I think they’re quite realistic. She says she loves reading them. As long as I don’t get any requests for a pet lion I’ll be happy…
Cherry Christmas.
It’s my annual glace cherry cull, bake a Christmas cake time.
I’ve bought enough glace cherries to cherrify cakes for the next year. Problem is I’ve still got last year’s ones in the cupboard…
Advent calendar.
Here’s this year’s advent calendar for you to print out and colour in instead of doing all those dreadfully important Christmas things like rescuing last years lights from the loft. Get the kettle on, crack open a mince pie, get out your felt tips and enjoy.
Oh and thanks for all your continued support this year, it always means more than I can ever put into words or pictures.
Here’s the link for you to follow to print out an A3 copy.
This is the link for an A4 copy.
Winter is coming.
This year’s hat selection includes a gothic black knitted beanie, a sparkly unicorn and a Pokemon Pikachu to keep their heads happy and warm.
Nine years long.
When on earth did Evie turn nine? I’m missing time I’m sure I am. Oh hang on, here’s a few thousand drawings here telling me…
Smashing conkers.
There is a particular way of getting into a conker. Leg up, heel aimed at the spikey little sphere and smash down with full force revealing your shiny prize inside.
Give the dog a bone.
A nice big bit of antler. Bit of skill there jamming into your mouth sideways like that Bonnie.
Tee off.
So good to have understanding neighbours, especially when your son decides to invent a new form of golf (involving a jedi sword and a giant inflatable ball….)
Evolution.
The moment when you realise your teenage daughter is perfectly capable of watching television and being on her phone all at the same time.
Keyholder.
Evie has taken on the task of letting the hens out in the morning.
Today I noticed that the keys to the hen pen were missing. After scouring the house I gave up and decided to collect the eggs…
…and found a lovely warm set of keys under one of our hens.
Hero’s return.
Evie has been on her Brownie pack holiday this weekend and has been sorely missed by everyone. (Especially Gruff).
Walk in the rain.
I love to walk in the rain, my dog does not. Two dripping wet, soggy creatures.
No children with me, all in school, all busy. Just me and the hound.
I remember the struggles with a pram. Wellies and raincoats, puddles and wet socks.
The last of the puddings.
You know that last bit of pudding? That last bit of strawberry pavlova sitting there on the table?
The one piece that everyone is looking at but is far too polite to ask for. The one that makes everyone pull a face like Christmas is over…
Well tough because whilst we were all yearning, Evie has just leaned over and scoffed it.
Hanging.
I’m off out drawing again to Pontardawe Arts Centre this morning looking for more willing subjects.
I’ve left Arnie in charge.
Arts in the Tawe Valley.
I’m going to be doing more drawing over the next week at the Pontardawe Arts Centre. If you fancy becoming a drawing in my sketchbook why not come down?
I’ll be there from 10-2 Monday the 13th to Friday the 17th of June.
I’ll be tweeting more drawings over the course of the week as and when!
Waiting for thunder.
It’s a very muggy evening here in Swansea tonight with heavy downpours and a few good rumbles of thunder.
Nothing better than counting between the flashes of lightning waitng for the rumble to catch up. Had to rescue a few soggy teddies from Gruff’s room.
Winners.
Evie and Bonnie eneted our local dog show today in the “Young Handler” catagory and only went and won it!
Dominoes.
We’ve got to eleven so far without them being toppled by shaky hands, sneaky sisters or curious cat.
Painting the chicken house.
Thought it would be a good day to touch up the chicken house with a lick of paint. Even put a lovely chicken painting on the side.
Not sure why some of my ladies are now walking around with flecks of bright blue on their feathers…
Guerilla scribbling.
Psst…if your in Swansea tomorrow and you fancy popping into Creative Bubble on Craddock Street I’m going to be looking for people to tell me a story and I will be tweeting them throughout the afternoon (in between bouts of cake eating).
I will be wearing a purple hat with pom poms on(don’t tell Evie, it’s her hat). Why? It’s a purple hat with pom poms on. Enough said.
New chicks.
Meet our two latest additions to our chicken family, Bluebell and Gumball. They’re very young and won’t be laying for probably another month or so. They are very tame and don’t seem phased by all the commotion the other other chickens are raging at them through their mesh partition.
Vibrissae.
Thought that one of Arnie’s whiskers had somehow fallen on my face whilst sleeping but then discovered that it was one of my own (as it was attached to my own face…).
A visit to the vet.
Bonnie had her yearly check-up today and has passsed with flying colours. Don’t know why Arnie is looking so smug, his appointment is tomorrow…
Sun’s out, dog’s out.
My dog doesn’t do tanlines. At the first hint of sun she’s out the back garden chasing rays.
The “S” word.
Back to school, Mondayitis and chocolate egg withdrawal symptoms. Happy faces all round…
Disaster woman.
No this isn’t a gory scene that I’m re-enacting from a horror movie, it’s the moment when your long awaited bottle of fizzy wine decides to explode at the moment of un-corking
and you hope what you’re covered in is just wine and not your own blood.
This particular bottle of wine was a gift from my sister and had travelled all the way from Italy, pity we couldn’t use straws for all that wastage.
Ah well, cup of tea it is then after a mass cleaning of the crime scene…
Something fishy going on.
Lesson learnt. Do not get engrossed in phone when balancing a plate of fish on your lap. There will be consequences!
Sticking and gluing.
Well it’s that time of year again. It’s Easter Bonnet Parade time and it’s just Gruff making his hat this year as Evie is making an Easter Egg for her competition.
This year’s creation has involved an awful lot of glue and cotton wool…
Full of it.
Millie’s full of cold at the moment. Discarded snotty tissues litter our lounge where they were cast off after another nose blowing.
Anubis.
Evie is studying ancient Egypt. Bonnie is obligingly helping portray the god of mummification.
