WiP number 5

When is a WiP not a WiP?

This is going to be a special blanket for me.  At least something like this will be as I have decided that I don't want to do my circles blanket in acrylic nor in these colours, which don't look like that in real life.  It's going to take an age to do, it's quite a fiddle with all the ends to weave in, gasp - 4 per circle. Horrors! So I'm going to have a BIG think about colours and which yarn to use.  I'd like it to be an airloomy blanket and I think natural fibres are more likely to go the distance.  I'm rubbish at colour combinations, I get it wrong more often than not.  I do still love my first Granny blanket but some of the colour combos are jarring now.  I think my best bet is to go through my fabric stash, work out which are my favourite prints and use them as a guide for the colour way.  I think I'll do a big but quick granny stripe with the yarn these circles are made of and leave it at the seaside house as our picnic blanket.

Since I haven't decided on the colour scheme nor which yarn to use I guess this is no longer a WiP, it's now back to "idea" stage.  I'll procrastinate over the type of yarn for ages and then I'll change my mind as I'll not be able to get the colours I want.  But eventually I'll have the perfect yarn in the perfect colours and I will have this blanket finished so I can snuggle up in my very own special blanket.  Third time lucky I hope, I first had a go with these circles a while ago now.

Imagine the above photo with a nice scalloped edge...it would make rather funky bunting don't you think?

It was Mothering Sunday yesterday. My dream day would have involved being woken by smiling children bearing a tray laden with a homemade card, jam and toast and a jar of hand picked flowers from our garden, I'd been telling Mr Cuckoo that this was my dream for a while, I find it best to offer a little guidance with these things.  

But what happened in reality was this: I was greeted by two boys fighting over a fly swat of all things.  Big Cuckoo threw the cards across the room at me and Little Cuckoo ripped open the gifts Mr Cuckoo had bought me on their behalf (lovely surprise).  No breakfast tray in sight.  Mini Cuckoo had been poorly for 24 hours so I was very tired and tearful.  I managed not to have a full on paddywack when realising that Mr Cuckoo hadn't listened/heard my 'guidance', pathetic really but I'd really hoped for that breakfast tray! I'm not sure if it was the absence of toast or the knowledge that I'd not been listened to that upset me most. 

I know this all sounds very whiny and spoilt but, well, I had been looking forward to Mothers Day with my three boys, just wanted to feel appreciated and a bit pampered.  Mr Cuckoo had to go out for the day to a sports thing he's involved with (I bet there were lots of other mothers who were peeved with the organisers) so I spent the day with my boys alone, which was rather lovely but they are too young to know what mothers day is all about. We went to the shopping mall and they had some fun in the soft play there and I bought them a couple of foam pellet guns (not sure how I feel about toy guns, but their friends have some and they have been on and on about them), the sort I was after had sold out so I purchased the only ones remaining, ones that have a cartridge.  I'm a hopeless mother to boys.  I couldn't get the darned things to fire.  Two pairs of blue eyes searched my red and sweaty face as I struggled to get these things to fire the foam pellets.  I felt useless. They looked so disappointed, my two little boys. I could see their excitement draining away. Little Cuckoo sat on the floor and cried big oily tears.  Quietly. Much worse than loudly having a tanty. So it was a pants day generally. I've not listed the full low down of the day as it's simply too grumpy and who wants to read that? And I don't want to remember.  

Poor Mini Cuckoo had been suffering all weekend, I took him to the out of hours doctor because he had a high temperature and he's too young for Calpol.  The doc said he just had to weather the storm. Poor baby.  He's much improved now but I'm shattered as what with his wakings and my coughing I haven't slept much for almost a week.  And I've got a massive spot on my massive chin!

Oh woe is me! Would somebody please give me a big kick up the arse!

xxx

ps. I'm glad the "weirdo widow" tale made some of you laugh, I felt a bit bad about it but now it's just a funny story and I've stopped feeling mortified.  Thanks ladies x