The house of icicles

Mine, that is. I am like a small ice sculpture fantasising about some kind of fantasy efficient central heating system, with settings between 'living in a snow globe' and 'gasping for water'. Have spent the past twenty minutes debating whether fetching my slippers is worth the baby-waking risk of venturing into my bedroom. Hmmm.

While I'm on the topic a hot water tank that heats up more than a thimbleful of water at a time might be nice. I know I'm into vintage and all that but reenacting wartime water rations is a step too far.

Clang clang fans might be happy to see the renaissance of the rag rabbit. Yes, the very same one who caused grown men come to blows at the nursery Easter fair last year. Don't ask, it was ugly. But hey, with those eyes, who can blame them....


So it's half term next week, and Halloween - hooray. Is it natural for a grown woman to be about ten times as excited at her four-year-old about dressing up scary-like? Luckily, I have the excuse of next weekend's Halloween weekend bash in Hebden Bridge. I am thinking scary voodoo lady, along the lines of that one from Pirates of the Caribbean. Am planning to fashion a dress from an old layered muslin skirt that I have knocking around, but it may well look a lot better in my head than in real life - isn't it always the way. I'll post some photos when I have it done , so you can ooh and ahh and think 'won't she be a bit nippy in Yorkshire in October in a few scraps of muslin'. My boy is planning to be much more sensible and wear all his dressing up garb, so will be some kind of spider/spiderman/knight/vampire medley but will, at least, be warm.

But before that, ooh ooh, am more excited about the fact that I am going out (gasp) tomorrow night with my husband (swoon) without any children (faint). Being skintest of skint, we are going to have tea at home and then go to the pub. For those of you with children, this is a building otherwise known as a public house, when people go to drink alcohol of an evening. Your memories of visiting one may have been obscured by the mists of time. We'll go to the Porters in Macclesfield. I tell you this only as an excuse to link to this frankly hilarious game where the landlady of our very own pub fends off the evil council men by bashing them on the head with a big stick. Strange but true.

I am giving up on sewing for tonight. I have a lovely little batch of dolls and rabbits which are nearly there, but I just reached that 'bit tired' stage where the thread does nothing but catch, the tension is never right, and the bobbin runs out right in the middle of a complicated manoeuvre. Have called it a day.

Goodnight folks, hope you all have a fab weekend x