Seagulls

Seagulls flying

Living in a seaside town means I often wake up to the sound of seagulls.  I love that instant salt air feel.  It reminds me of childhood summer holidays in Cornwall and those cheeky St Ives birds that always try to pinch your chips.

On a still sunny morning their sound carries from the harbour, so different from the song birds in the garden.

Seagulls by the sea

Of course, Tom would remind me that there’s no such thing as a ‘seagull’, just many different types of ‘gulls’.  In fact, so many different types that they’re hard to name.  I think we have black-headed and herring, and glaucous gulls in Cowes but I couldn’t say for sure.  I find it’s useful to know a few names to bandy about confidently, even if you have no real idea..

Seagull flying across the water

You only have to read The Lighthouse Keeper’s Lunch to know that a gull’s character is a pretty entertaining thing.  From their perch on the seafront they’ll give me a wary eye, trying to look unfazed, but hopping from one foot to the other as I approach.

Their presence is a part of our town’s character, and I love being reminded of it in the morning; a small second of holiday charm at the beginning of a working day.

Yoga Anywhere

Rusty pulling a move on a path

I love to stretch, but it’s easy to lose the time to do it. If I have even a two-day yoga streak I feel ridiculously full of sunshine and wholesome goodness. Even ten minutes; why is it so hard to find that time? I’d like to set up my Pinterest app to say “Go away and don’t come back until you’ve done a sun salute.”

Rusty and yoga photo collage

When I’m outside under a tree, or on a hill, that’s when a little bit of yoga feels a good idea. It isn’t proper practice, but it is good fun. I’d like to learn this non-stop standing flow for those moments.

Eriz Motz’s thirty day challenge had me ‘namaste’ing at my ipad screen every day, and now she’s teamed up with Andy Zoltan to produce a seriously slick online yoga platform. After much anticipation, MyYogaPro has gone live and got me practising. These longer summer days seem a good place to search for those daily ten minutes. If for no other reason than to do a better balance on the harbour wall.

Rusty striking a pose at Newtown

Low tide at Newtown, Isle of Wight

All the Books I Didn’t Read: May

Ghana Must Go book

When I sat down to write May’s Year in Books post I realised I have only read one book this month. In fact, I started that one book back in April so that’s almost cheating..

I’ve had reading ruts before, when I just can’t settle on a book, but this month I’m blaming it on work. Not too much of it, but just the uncertainty and stress of it as my team faces serious cuts.

I zone out mid-page to start thinking about who said what in that meeting, or how I should frame that response in a more diplomatic fashion. When really I just want to shout ‘Don’t do this!’ It feels like a great loss, of the work we all feel so passionate about.

Close up of boat cover

Tom and I are both talking big changes next year. Plans are afoot to strike out on our own and fill more of our days with the creative endeavours we love so much. Of course, Radio 4 features heavily in this idyllic vision of the future..)

I’m trying hard to balance sensible ‘pay-the-bills’ thoughts with wild and ambitious ‘nothing-can-stop-me’ ideas. My morning ferry commute flashes by without me opening a book at all.

California poppies

So, I appreciate Laura’s achievable target: just one book a month! This might be less than I usually read, but it’s something.

Ghana Must Go was a beautifully written and colourful read. It moved between narrators and across time in a way that took some adjusting to. I think it’s a good book; too good to be fully appreciated by my distracted mind. I’m taking refuge in some Kate Atkinson this month: Life After Life. I’m sure I can concentrate on that…

A Little Bunting

Sewing bunting in a conservatory

A friend of mine is to be best man at her brother’s wedding next month. The outdoor party needs 300 feet of bunting. A little help was called for…

I love getting out the sewing machine. but so often it lies dusty on my desk, neglected in favour of some fresh air. After the last sunny weekend, I was in danger of never getting the promised bunting made.

So I enlisted my mum’s help (always the answer right?!) We spent the afternoon out in her conservatory, ironing board and sewing machine lined up in assembly-line fashion. Mum ironed the binding in half lengthways and I ran it through the machine with some pinked fabric triangles sandwiched in between.

Sitting at the sewing machine: front and back photo collage

Our sunny workshop made it much easier to sit stitching on such a sunny day. And we still got out in the overgrown country lanes to tramp through the big puddles left by last night’s rain.

Bunting is a pretty satisfying project. You can fly through metres of the stuff at a fair lick, sewing machine rattling off the table as you push the pedal ever-faster. This might be part of the reason why some of the lines are a little wonky. But when you’re looking at 300 feet of the stuff with champagne in hand I figure noone will notice.

Home made bunting hanging up

Making the Most of a Sunny Day

I’m embracing the little slice of early summer we’ve had; too sunny to be in front of a screen, or to sew the bunting I’ve promised a friend. We were outside for every minute of last weekend’s glorious weather.

Inspired by Xanthe’s recent talk at Blogtacular, I even made a little clip. (It’s my first attempt- you got to start somewhere right?!) But next weekend I really will sew that bunting come sunshine or showers..