A handmade story

Small music festivals are often a celebration of the unique and handmade, and last year’s End of the Road was no exception. When not listening to music or enjoying all the independent food and drink merchants, we were exploring the various stalls – knitters, printing pressers, and jewellers.

This beautiful bracelet was one of my finds from that weekend. It is made from Derwent pencils and an old knitting needle, by the ever-talented and charming ZincWhite. I had a great time choosing it, chatting with the woman who makes them, and sharing our love of craft, cycling, and the coast.

Buying from a craftsman so often offers more than the item itself: a chance to connect over a shared interest, to find out more about it, and to celebrate someone’s skill. This bracelet is a celebration of two of my favourite things: stationery and knitting. It is a reminder of a very happy weekend and a chance meeting with a like-minded soul. When people comment on it, I relish the excuse to tell a story and to share with others the wonder that is Handmade.

A Paris reunion

Last Thursday I took an early Eurostar, headed for Paris and a girls’ family reunion with my mum and grama. We celebrated our triple birthdays, spanning the summer months, and stretched out our long weekend with plenty of coffee, art and wandering.

New discoveries included beautiful gardens at the Jardin des Plantes, tea at the grand old Cafe du Lion of the Musee d’Orsay, and sweet things on the streets of St Germain. We walked our feet off and, when they would take us no further, hitched a ride on a rickshaw.

Paris always offers new delights; an old city that never gets old. We stayed at the Hotel Chopin, which I would recommend to anyone. It has a lovely old shabby feel, with immaculate rooms, and friendly staff. I hope I’ll be returning some day soon!

Meanwhile, my mum and grama have headed South, to the Loire, while Tom and I head up North, to catch up with friends and explore the Lake District for the first time. Boots and bikes are packed. Can’t wait!

Time well spent

Perhaps my persistent positivity about the weather paid off. Or, we’re finally due some decent weather. Either way we’ve now had days of perfect summer sunshine. I’ve been soaking up every minute, maxing out on outdoors time and ignoring any screen draw (bar Instagram, of course!).

Tom’s school summer holidays have started off in the best of ways, with mini adventures and celebrations. I’ve been along for the ride and in complete denial about work. We’ve spent our weekends in the countryside riding and walking, and our weekday evenings on the beach, drinking bubbly and dipping more-than-toes in the sea (it’s really not too cold!)

We’ve had plenty cause to celebrate, with the end of term, a new job in the pipeline, and our second wedding anniversary. Here’s to long summer days, filled with sunshine and happiness. Cheers!

Look up

There’s no doubt that this July hasn’t been the most idyllic sunny month. With flooding across the country and many a county show rained out, I think it’s fair to say we’ve all had enough of the wet stuff.

But, every cloud has a silver lining, and in this case it’s the clouds themselves. The sky has been putting on some wild and dramatic shows recently. I’d love to be able to name every cloud type, but my knowledge is pretty basic and practical. After three months of cycling and camping in Europe with few weather forecasts, I became good at spotting the grey, dimply clouds that warn of rain. The rest of them, I just have to admire.

Ever since I was a kid I’ve loved those clouds that look perfect for a mountaineering expedition, so Andrew Bird’s recent track with the same sentiment is currently getting a lot of repeat playings.

Singing in the city

After all my recent talk of the delights of Island living, this week I’ve hardly been here. Last weekend I was in London to sing at the Royal Albert Hall with my choir as part of the Really Big Chorus

I have to admit to being a little sentimental about the Albert Hall, as this is where Tom and I met years ago. That time, we were up in the gallery, listening to Mahler #2; this time I was down on the stage, singing Jenkins’ ‘Gods of Olympus’

It was great to have the opportunity to sing in a such a grand venue. The sound of 1300 voices ringing round the hall was a little heart-thumping. Add to that the full orchestra and killer percussion section, and we made a pretty dramatic sound.

So I’ve heard no pounding waves on the beach this week, but more pounding kettle drums in the midst of the city; both more enjoyable in their sharp contrast.