Playroom visitors

There was an unusual amount of activity in the playroom this morning. I could hear chairs being dragged across the floor, books being pulled from the bookcase and much whispering going on. When I opened the playroom door I was met by a dolly barricade.

Little faces peeked out at me from behind books and cushions and it was soon plain to see that this wasn't just a game, so I went in to investigate.

Luckily it didn't take long to discover the problem.

During the night four little monsters had made their way into the playroom and were now happily playing with the balls of wool in the dollies' knitting basket.

Luckily Kate and Tilly were not far away and being experts at catching stray fairies they wasted no time in scooping up these little rascals.

Kate netted the first little fellow and Tilly grabbed the second and soon all four were in safe hands.

The girls wasted no time in offering the visitors a cup of tea and I think they quite enjoyed it, although it's hard to tell from the expressions on their faces.

These little monsters won't be permanent residents in the playroom as they belong to my daughter and will soon be going home. She opened an Etsy shop last year selling her own knitting patterns and these little fellows are her latest designs. We both love toys and spend hours discussing our latest plans. Whilst I tend to design traditional dolls my daughter likes to experiment with new ideas.

This is Cupcake the kitten confronting two cheeky mice who are obviously very determined to guard their precious tin of salmon. You will find the patterns in her shop.

The shop listing below is my favourite . . . . 'Puppy Love'.

My daughter's shop is called Toyshelf, a name which I think suits it well as it conjures up an image of a shelf filled with an ever growing number of cute, cuddly and colourful toys. Do pop over and take a look if you enjoy making small toys.

The Wind in the Willows

'The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home'.

This is the well known opening line from Kenneth Grahame's 'The Wind in the Willows'. First published in 1908 it is now a much loved children's classic. In my last blog post I promised to tell you more about the book that is wonderfully illustrated by Inga Moore.

The book begins with the Mole painting his ceiling. After a while he grows tired and throws down his brush. There is a hint of spring in the air so he scrambles up his dark tunnel and out into the fresh spring air. Without further thought the Mole heads off into the countryside. Eventually he reaches a meandering river and beside it sits a snug little dwelling-place.

This is the home of the Water Rat and the two animals quickly become friends and enjoy a happy summer together fishing and having adventures up and down the riverbank. One of their acquaintances is Mr Toad (we'll see more of him later!)

As days grow shorter and winter approaches the Mole grows restless and foolishly ventures alone into the Wild Wood. His mission is to find the home of the much respected but elusive Mr Badger. But he soon becomes lost and very frightened and is eventually rescued by his friend the Rat.

The two head for home but the snow falls thicker and faster and it is soon evident that they have lost their way. Suddenly the Mole stumbles on an object that is protruding from the snow. It is a door scraper and of course where there's a door scraper there must be door. So the two exhausted animals start to scrape away the snow and soon find a bell-pull.

After ringing the bell they wait patiently and eventually hear distant footsteps from inside. The door slowly opens and there stands Mr Badger.

He invites them inside, bathes the cut on the Mole's leg, gives them a hearty meal and then gives them both a cosy bed for the night.

The following morning the friends find two hungry hedgehogs sitting at the table eating bowls of porridge given to them by the kindly Badger.

With Christmas approaching it is time to return to the Riverbank. They pass through snowy villages and cross freezing fields.

  

 

On the way the Mole calls at his old home and although a humble dwelling they spend some time there and enjoy Christmas carol singing in the company of little field mice.

The story starts quite gently but then it continues apace with lots of adventures for the Riverbank folk. Mr Toad is the centre of everyone's attention.

He steals a car, drives it recklessly and is caught by the police. To escape from prison he dresses as a washer-woman and is again pursued by the police. And so the Toad's adventures continue.

Whilst the foolish animal has been away his grand house 'Toad Hall' has been taken over by weasels, stoats and ferrets from the Wild Wood.

It is thought the Toad might have lost his house for ever but with Mr Badger's expert knowledge of underground tunnels the four friends are able to enter the house undetected and they pounce upon the unsuspecting weasels who are holding a party.

The mighty Badger with whiskers bristling waves his great cudgel and rushes towards the ferrets at the dining table. With noisy whoops and shrieks the Rat, the Mole and Mr Toad join the attack and the terrified ferrets make their escape. In five minutes the room is cleared and through the broken window panes the shrieks of the escaping intruders can be clearly heard.

At long last the friends can dine with the now (hopefully) reformed Mr Toad, who is happy to be back in his much loved ancestral home.

If you are familiar with 'The Wind in the Willows' you will know that I have only covered a small part of this much loved story. My main aim of this post was was to show you some of Inga Moore's superbly evocative illustrations.

This is a large book measuring 29cm x 21cm. In full colour throughout there are almost 100 illustrations on the 182 pages. It is essentially a book for children but will appeal to all ages. I should point out that the original text by Grahame has been abridged in places to allow for the many illustrations.

A children's classic beautifully illustrated by Inga Moore.

Christmastime

All is fairly quiet in the playroom today. Belinda is busy recycling festive wrapping paper. She carefully presses each piece and then passes it to Posy who hangs it neatly on the laundry rack. Several tiny dolls are having great fun playing 'hide and seek' behind the sheets of coloured paper.

The weather outside is wet and windy but the Christmas tree lights are filling the rooms with a warm glow. The tree in the hall stands at the foot of the stairs.

The sitting room tree as ever is draped with many old and much loved decorations. The tiny Santa below is perched on a white swan. When gently pulled the spring allows the swan to bounce up and down and its feathery wings move to create the illusion of a magical flying Santa. My mum bought it from a large London store in the 1950s and I don't think I can ever remember a Christmas without it. Each January it is lovingly packed away until the following December.

 

I like the repetition that Christmas brings and make no real effort to do things differently. The mantel is always draped in greenery and when night falls the candles are lit.

On the old oak table in a corner of the dining room I always arrange the same items. A bible, a brass chamber stick and a pewter plate in which I place a few Georgian and Victorian coins. These coins were in circulation when Jane Austen and Charles Dickens were alive and I like to think of them rattling around in peoples' pockets and hope that maybe some made their way onto church collection plates and were then used to help the poor and needy.

 

How lucky those of us are with warm comfortable homes. I thought I'd leave you with this picture that for me typifies Christmas. It depicts a quiet English village nestling below the ancient church. Lamps are lit, fires glow and the smoke from chimneys rises high into the frosty air. The picture is an illustration from my 'Wind in the Willows' book which I'll tell you about in the new year.

 

From my home here in England I send warm greetings and may next year bring health and happiness to you all.

Christmas greetings to you all

Christmas greetings friends. Autumn days here at Flutterby Patch seems to have passed in a flash of frantic and frustrating activity. It all began in early October with the arrival of a smart new woodburning stove for the sitting room. We were told by the stove fitters that installing it was a fairly simple job and would take a couple of days (famous last words). They spent the first day lining the chimney and by day two were ready to connect the stove. However, after much pushing and shoving they were eventually forced to remove our large sitting room fireplace so that the stove could be securely linked to the chimney liner. The room was emptied of furniture and the carpet taken up. Plaster was removed from around the wooden surround, then out came the fireplace; in went the stove; back went the surround; the wall was replastered and all was made good again. . . . We prepared to light the fire. . . . . . but, wouldn't you just know it, there was a problem with the chimney and so the fireplace had to be taken out once more and this time part of the brick wall was removed. I can't begin to describe the mess and chaos. The whole procedure that was to have taken two days eventually took two weeks. When the stove fitters left we found plaster and brick dust in every corner of the house. And so we've spent the last few weeks cleaning and in some cases redecorating and have finally completed three rooms. . . . The good news is that the woodburning stove works beautifully and is keeping us toasty warm.

You won't be surprised to know that I've not had time to knit during the autumn. For several weeks the dollies remained in the playroom with the door firmly shut (dollies and brick dust don't make good companions).

This week we have been preparing for Christmas. I still have much catching up to do but thought I'd accompany my Christmas greeting by showing you this book by Brian Wildsmith. I know many of you love his illustrations and so I think you'll enjoy his version of the Christmas story.

The book 'A Christmas Story' was first published in the late 1980s and is widely available from used book suppliers.

The story begins with the birth of a baby donkey in a stable in the town of Nazareth.

One day a man and lady (named Joseph and Mary) took the mother donkey from the stable and set out on a long journey.

The baby donkey felt very sad all alone without his mother by his side.

Rebecca, who lived nearby, agreed to care for the baby donkey. But the little donkey was so sad that in the end Rebecca suggested that the two of them should set out in search of the donkey's mother.

The roads were full of people travelling to various towns and villages. Many of them had seen Mary and Joseph and were able to guide the two friends on their way.

Suddenly glorious music filled the sky and an angel appeared.

Shepherds in a nearby field pointed towards a brilliant star shining over the town of Bethlehem.

Rebecca and the little donkey followed the star and were guided to a stable.

On entering the stable they found a new-born baby lying in a manger. Richly dressed kings had brought splendid gifts for the child. They stood alongside poor shepherds and all were giving thanks for the arrival of this very special baby.

The little donkey and his mother were happily reunited and they remained with Mary and Joseph and carried them and their precious baby into Egypt.

Meanwhile, Rebecca rode back home on a splendid camel owned by one of the kings.

Thank you to everyone for creating the wonderfully colourful and interesting blogs that I've visited throughout 2011 and thank you for visiting me and my little dollies here at Flutterby Patch.

Autumn fires

Many thanks for all the nice comments you left last week. As quite a few of you seemed to like the bears hiking their way across the Lakeland mountains I thought I'd include another pic of a busy pair working in the garden. This one brings to mind the poem 'Autimn Fires' by Robert Louis Stevenson.

In the other gardens

And all up the vale,

From the autumn bonfires

See the smoke trail!

Pleasant summer over

And all the summer flowers,

The red fire blazes,

The grey smoke towers.

Sing a song of seasons.

Something bright in all.

Flowers in the summer.

Fires in the fall.

As well as having the occasional bonfire, hubby has spent the last few weeks cutting wood in readiness for the cold weather ahead.

Today, whilst hubby's back was turned, Belinda Jane managed to fill her basket with small offcuts.

With some help she managed to carry the loaded basket back to the dolls' cosy kitchen where a splendid Victorian style range keeps everyone snug and warm.

Enjoy your weekend everyone