Millie loves to put on her headphones and listen to music at the end of a busy day.
Gruff’s all arms and legs at the moment. He’s grown a lot over the winter. I’m hoping for a slow down so I can keep up with the amount of trousers he’s grown out of!
I’m delighted to tell you that after a thirty day absence, cake has returned to the Stevens’ household.
It’s been far too long, where have you been!
Nothing to do?
Just drop to the floor and sprawl. You know it makes sense…
Reasons Evie likes to do her maths homework in a very large hat.
1). Large hats are cool, very cool.
2). Large hats amplify brainwaves.
3). It keeps unwanted siblings and pets away from the table.
4). No one can spot the stolen jaffa cakes you are secretly scoffing whilst doing maths homework…
Gruff has unexpectedly closed. Please restart Gruff. If this does not work please run an overnight re-boot.
This early morning rising in the pitch black is always made extra joyful by getting the milk in from the front door in typically delightful Swansea weather.
We have a Christmas hat for Bonnie but she’d much rather shred it than wear it…
I have well over a thousand drawings on this blog and I thought it would be interesting to revisit some blog posts from previous years over the next couple of weeks.
There are so many and I thought it would be nice for me to pick some of my favourites and maybe ones you haven’t seen before.
I started the blog back in August 2010 when Gruff was only nine months old, Evie was two and Millie seven.
We hadn’t even got Bonnie then and life was very much a day to day battle to find a few hours decent sleep!
The blog was and still is a way of capturing my family’s day to day in drawn form. I use pen and I draw straight into my sketchbook.
My drawing style has evolved since 2010 but alas my washing pile has too!
I hope you enjoy the compilations!
The slow trudge home from school just got slower now that Gruff is out of the pram and walking too. The only drawback, is that there’s no where to put the coats, bags, hats, lunch boxes, kitchen sinks,..etc that the girls bring home from school each day!
We also have our little stalker Arnie that lies in wait at the top of the road, waiting for the return of his little clan.
Who is that lady?
Oh that one, the one lying half way down the embankment.
The one lying in the mud?
Yeah. That one.
The one making a mental note to herself not to slip and slide bottom first down a muddly embankment after her dogs ball.
You should have seen the trail she left walking home….
It’s rubbish day tomorrow. Myles loves rubbish night. It’s his chance to show the planet what caring individuals we are and separate all our waste into pink bags, green bags, food waste etc. etc..
Tonight came the familiar bellow of frustration from our kitchien as my nearest and dearest went into meltdown as numerous plastic bottles gayfully skipped in all directions across our kitchen floor.
Ah well, only seven days until the next one eh?
What strikes fear into the heart of every parent more than the fear of losing their child?
It’s losing the child’s teddy.
In Marks and Spencer’s.
And proceeding to run frantically around the shop shouting”Teddy?”
Teddy was found ten minutes later perched happily on a rail (obviously placed there by some saint) watching hysterical Mammy with much amusement.
Well summer is briefly here at long last. Not sure how much of it we’ll get but our vegetables are looking great.
With the kids help, we’ve planted so much this year that I’m in danger of becoming Felicity Kendall with the chickens and the veg patch.
Although she didn’t have kids.
And I don’t do dungarees.
Fair swap really.
I read Red Hiding Hood to Evie and Gruff tonight and they thought it was fantastic.
Evie was not amused in the slightest at the eating up of Red Riding Hood and Grandma by the Wolf but thought it was great that her father then killed him with an axe, and pulled them both out alive.
Old ones are the best eh?
They pay people to do this in MacDonalds, they go round sweeping up cold chips and bits of nugget mixed in with whatever else gets dropped on the floor. Little dustpans and brushes on long sticks so you don’t have to bend down.
I got myself one with a pretty pattern on. It was a weak moment and I had my guard down and I bought into the shop’s subliminal message that all household objects have to have a pretty pattern on it.
Maybe someone’s vain attempt to make such a mundane and soul destroying job more aestheticly pleasing. (I would prefer a scene of Dante’s inferno to describe the sentiment I feel when sweeping up mashed boiled egg mixed with peppers and rice and cat hair).
…I wasn’t drawing at all. We all went on holiday and I packed one of the numerous, small sketchbooks that Myles had desperately bought in attempt to get me drawing again. I sat outside late one evening and stared at the page, what on earth would I draw? I drew what I knew best, my family.
Here’s to lots more drawing. And here’s to all those artists who have become sidelined, side tracked, ignored, undermined, ripped off or for those who will never be huge or famous or published.
Just keep drawing.