Tuesday, 10 February 2015

Password - not accepted. Please enter your memorable place...

The bane of my life.
Passwords, passwords, passwords - I dread any site that asks for a password as - despite reusing the same three or four over and over again, it's never the right one that I enter.

With a phone having the battery life of an egg timer I find myself constantly searching for wifi friendly shops to check emails on an alternative gadget.
Sometimes I feel like binning all gadgets.
I never used to feel the need to check emails while out, yet now I'm a walking encyclopedia of Wi-Fi friendly shops in Swansea.
How did that happen?
Today was M&S.

''Please enter password.''
Wrong one.
Three times.

''Please enter your memorable place.''
Good, I know this one...
How can it possibly reject the right answer???

I try capitals, no capitals, pic n mix, country, city, expletives - back to the place I tried first time round - back to the spelling I'm sure I entered first off - BINGO!

All signed in, only to find the new emails I have are all SPAM.

I give up on WiFi.

Wednesday, 4 February 2015

The not so humble skip. Right up there with an air ticket somewhere hot.

8pm, chicken pie in oven, rocket and balsamic plonked in an artistic heap and I'm feeling positively Delia-like.
It won't last.
Unlike my rosemary, which, despite being largely ignored, is spreading all over the garden at an alarming rate.
Like my ever expanding binbag collection, in the aftermath of a particularly brutal clearout.
And the lid of my oil tank, which appears to have taken up residence next door as a birdbath.

I'd still like a skip, and find myself staring enviously at said skips when I pass, even taking to photographing them.

Skip envy.

At the moment, I think of a skip as a particularly desirable item, right up there with an air ticket somewhere hot.
Somewhere like SdotYam, the kibbutz I have never quite got out of my system.
Although in the neighbouring city of OrAqiva, skips have taken on an entirely different meaning altogether, and are best avoided!

Home as a volunteer, 1990, 1991.
Josh, 1997.


With friends, 2010,  OrAqiva.


Friday, 30 January 2015

Skip envy.

January sunshine and a veritable rubbish mountain.
And with the three bag, two week rule I'm going to have to be creative with my ever expanding pyramid of ever bigger black bags.
I have serious skip envy.
Having lived in the same place for two decades, and minus an attic, my shed is crammed with layer upon layer of junk.
Funny really, as when I moved in I'd always assumed it would be short term.
Drastic action is needed, which will involve a skip, a move or hopefully both.
I am going to use a friend who shall remain nameless - Max in Manchester - for inspiration.
Max has the best idea, and understands the attraction of a skip.
Not only does she succumb to said skip on a yearly basis, she also moves frequently.

Me and Max, 2011.

And who knows what is lurking at the back of my shed?
Apart from the spiders, the floppy cobwebs and remnants of coal.

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

The quirky duck and regal swan.

A long grey month, but when the sun does make a rare appearance, the winter light is beautiful.

This month I am stalking swans.
The light in their feathers, the don't-mess-with-me haughtiness and the effortless grace they possess make them incredibly photogenic.
Even when I'm leaning over them with a long lens camera.


My printer will soon be on overdrive. 

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

Itchy feet and hues of grey.

Two weeks into my least favourite month and trying to resist the urge to book an impromptu trip back to the sun, sea and friends of SdotYam.
Afterall, January's a slow month sales wise and grey has never been my favourite colour for a sky.
BUT...this is supposed to be the year I change things up and spring clean my life, and whenever I go back to SdotYam I end up boomeranging right back within months. has been four years...and I was supposed to have gone back this summer...
Oh my goodness, it's tempting!


Yotvata on the beach.
NoBurger, winter 2010.

While I may not be a fan of grey skies I am a fan of grey fabric, and am starting 2015 with a grey palette of varying hues. And resurrecting the wide awake fox cub, after a year of snoozy ones.

This one is called The Curious Fox Cub, and is backed with a soft and tactile wool.
It's been a long time since my foxes have been awake!

And continuing with the monochrome theme, this is a photographic card featuring the regal swan.
The crisp winter light of December was perfect for photography, and the swan has a unique charm and grace.


Sunday, 4 January 2015

The soft glow of fairylights and a yearning for chipboard.

As the New Year stutters into normality I'm hanging on to the fairylights.
Much as I'm jaded by Christmas and have never embraced tinsel, the fairylights make January less grey.
But I've missed my six foot boards.

I'm a big fan of the boards, chipboard at its finest.
(Although I admit to being sceptical when my dad appeared on the doorstep last year, brandishing said boards and announcing they would change my life).
Well, they didn't change my life but they certainly expanded my workspace!

These boards were unsurped by the Christmas tree, a bargain from the one-step-away-from-the-shredder section of the Christmas tree plantation.
Rejected, due to a chunk missing from the back, but who looks at the back anyway?
And I have a pile of pinstripe and flowerpower fabric to sew, fresh from a new year rummage down Bricklane.
Yesterday morning I woke to soggy conifers and icy winds.
With an overwhelming urge to be back in London and away from a Gower shrouded in grey mist and festive drizzle.
6 hours later I was in Paddington, my gateway to urban sanity.
And finally got to the Horst exhibition I've been meaning to see for ages, just a day before it closed.


I love photography, and these were strong images.
The strong lines, the lighting...the staging.
For Horst I can tolerate a queue stretching down the South Kensington tunnel.
I'm glad I went.

On a photography theme, December has been the month of the swan for me.
Move over quirky ducks, I've fallen for the elegant lines and effortless grace of the swan.
And the crisp yellow light of late December was perfect for stalking swans at a local park.

December has also brought the rediscovery of a box of old slides from the 60s and 70s.
I find slides quite magical, so retro and so of their time.
The one below was taken in 1969, and is of me and my mum.
A moment in time.



Saturday, 20 December 2014

Bue skies and PJs.

In an ideal world I would have jumped out of bed at 8am, been out the door at 9 and be in the park photographing squirrels by 10, having finished all my Christmas shopping and with a full fridge.

In reality I overslept till 10am, have barely scratched the surface of Christmas shopping, Tesco has no delivery slots till after Christmas and I won't be at the park before 2.
On the plus side, my orderbook is clear, the tree has half its baubles and the sky is blue.

Today I wave goodbye to the courier till after Christmas.
No more odd shaped parcels, pink mailing sacks or wrestling to get boxes within the courier size restrictions.
No more packaging at midnight, cellotape wars or dodgy addresses that don't exist on Google.
Suki objects to the noise of the cellotape.
She gets that ''don't mess with me'' glint in her eyes.

I've seen more of the courier than my own son, who is working such nocturnal hours that the only time I've seen him this week he's been horizontal.
But I always hear the door when he rolls in at 4am.