The Perils of Being a Doer

I have a confession to make: I am not very good at sitting still. I love the idea of relaxing and doing nothing, but as soon as I sit down, I think of something I must get up and do immediately. And if I don’t, I end up sitting there, stewing over what I should do next and not being at all involved in what I am doing right now. If I carry on like this, I’m at risk of missing everything!

This time of year seems just perfect to cultivate some ~~laziness~~ stillness. So, when I light the fire I will sit for another minute and enjoy the first flame. And when I read a book I will shut off that portion of my brain that is quietly rewriting my ‘to do’ list. And when I stare out the ferry window at the Solent sunset I won’t feel guilty for wasting time. Because sometimes sitting still and doing nothing is far better than being up and doing.

Sunday Stitching – A New Coffee Cosy

This past weekend was filled with some of my favourite autumn things: leafy walks, coffee stops, dinner with family, and books by the fire. And what better way to finish off a weekend of lovely things than with a spot of sewing. You may recall I’m a stitching procrastinator and this project was no exception. Looking back over past projects, I’ve noticed this colour combo a lot. I have shelves of brightly-coloured fabrics, but seem to gravitate to the greys instead. Maybe it’s because I’m a proper grown-up? Doubt it..

So, after some hasty cutting (there’s nothing like breaking your rotary cutter to develop a love of the imprecise) and dodgy drafting (see sketches above) I stitched together a tube of fabric strips, with some batting in between, stitched some buttons on the end, and wrapped it round my coffee pot ready for my Monday morning brew.

Lost in a Book

Please excuse my absence. I’ve had my head stuck in a book. Quincunx has demanded all my attention, if I am ever to get through its 1200 pages. For such a mighty tome, it rips along at a rollicking pace and is a Dickensian adventure of the very best kind. Family intrigue, murderous plots and duplicitous ‘indiwiddles’ abound.

There’s no way I would have considered reading a book of this size if it wasn’t for Scott and his social reading challenge. I’m a sucker for a target and a bit of peer pressure, especially as Tom has been reading it too. So, despite my slow reading pace, I’ve kept up and been swept along on the many fateful turns that John’s life takes.

Tom and I have spent most evenings tangled on the couch (which is, strictly speaking, just too small for two) reading our matching pages in silence, or talking over who has betrayed who, and trying to interpret the various lineage and family feuds. This is a great read to chew on by the fire, with a double helping of tea and toast, as you hear tell of John’s increasing states of peril and starvation. Few books have made me appreciate food quite so much!

So, please excuse me while I go ahead and read the next 400 pages..

Starting the Day on a Boat

Setting off on still grey waters, with a cup of strong coffee and a good book is not a bad way to start the day. I may have a longer commute now, but there is something quite delicious about the way travel creates a chunk of time to do nothing but sit.

It’s just as well I have some extra time as I’ve taken on a big social reading challenge and I’m a slow reader. I’m too easily distracted and on this, of all weeks, I have lost my iPod. So, instead of Joanna Newsom’s clear tones and James Yorkston’s easy turns, I have enjoyed a ferry soundtrack of business calls and tv show debriefs. I’m only surprised by how sociably inclined other people are so early in the morning.

Southampton’s big industry port and busy shipping lanes sets a different pace from Cowes’ sailing boats and quiet marina. City rush hour traffic is a shock to the system, and I’m suffering from bike envy, seeing those wheels nip off down a speedy side road while I join the slow-moving rank of cars. In comparison to that, a boat is a most civilised way to travel!

Up on the Downs

It used to seem odd to me that we call the high land on the Island ‘the Downs’. Surely they’re the Ups?

Apparently it stems from the Anglo-Saxon word dun, meaning ‘hill’. On the Isle of Wight these chalky ridges stretch across the length of the island, making them great for one big all-day walk, or dozens of mini adventures. Our recent habit of diving in the car on a Friday evening to catch the last of the light inevitably takes us Up Downs and we revel in the high fast winds and the ever-changing clouds, with the brightest rays of sun and the biggest plops of rain.

It’s always fun to come up here and get whipped about in the wind and lean against it’s push. We had to belt it down the hill again as the rain descended. But it wouldn’t be a mini adventure without a few mishaps.