Commissioned ‘Reef Knot’ Wedding Congratulations Greetings Card
Commissioned ‘Reef Knot’ Wedding Congratulations Greetings Card
Tomorrow, we’re heading to Dorset in the camper van. We only just decided to go away yesterday. One week or two? Not sure yet, but its more likely to be one. I can’t wait. I love our family holidays. They’re always in England. We always go in the camper van. And we always create the best memories together. When you know you can get on away on holiday, you just know its right.
(Image courtesy of Emma Case Photography)
The last holiday we had, was in April earlier this year. We stayed at a hilltop campsite in Polruan. At the bottom of the steepest hill I’ve ever walked down (the locals claim holiday makers return home after meeting this hill) is a little pedestrian ferry which takes you over the estuary into Fowey, the prettiest hilly Cornish town, busy with old fashioned life. This holiday was as close to perfect as it could be. The weather was notably amazing. We didn’t have to drive everywhere. There was a lonely little swing on a hill at the campsite, which looked out to sea. If you sat on the swing quietly enough, you could hear nothing. If you sat still enough, you could see the top of the world. When I think about this holiday, I feel like my husband is winking at me across a crowded room. And if I could give the holiday a colour, it would be turquoise. Fresh, happy and clean.
The holiday we’re embarking on tomorrow takes us near Studland. A-mazing beach. Have you been? No? Well, get yourself down there. It’s like being in the mediterranean. The first time we drove through Studland, we were going out in our first trip in our 1965 VW camper van. It was a shell. The only thing in there, apart from 7/8ths of the contents of our house, were the front seats, where three of us squidged together. This drive was the first time I drove the bus and the roads, I remember, were particuarly windy. Not windy, as in the wind was blowing. But windy, as in oooh, a bit more left, and noooo, bear right more, Victoria. My knuckles were a shade of..hmm…let me think. Oh yes. White. My eyes strained. My tummy turned. My head ached with concentration. But I loved every second. And for a girl, I did alright. That was another precious holiday. Our first as a family.
When we go away, as well as packing a hefty amount for everyone else, I also pack a little satchel of stuff for me. Its pretty rare I’ve used any of what I’ve taken up to now and I have started to wonder why I bother. But I can’t not take anything. I know I’d be upset if I had a rare moment to myself and couldn’t do something like draw or write or read. So, its more of a bag of comfort. A comfort bag. Yes, I like that. A comfort bag.
I normally take a book of fiction. A book of something that I’m interested in at present, like letterpress printing techniques. Or fonts. Weird, I know. Some of you may get it, some definitely won’t. A magazine. A load of pens and pencils. The bags diminish in size each time, and I think this trips is going to be the smallest. Here is what I’m taking:
Do I need anything else? Most definitely. Will I take anything else? No. That would be madness. Let’s see how much of this I use. I’ll let you know when I come back, shall I? Ok.
P.S If you haven’t done already, don’t forget to vote for me if you like my blog….you can vote by clicking here to go to the Dorset Cereals Little Blog Awards Nomination page. Scroll down a bit and you’ll see me on the right side of the screen as Lovebird.
In the run up to leaving my job, I became even more lost in my world of thoughts and fears. I was exhilarated, excited, weightless yet slightly fearful. Eight years at the same place, at the age of 31 is a fair amount of time to have worked in one place. A huge amount of change had happened to me in that time. One husband. Two children. Three houses.
The end of a chapter was closing and I felt the urge to record this via the old fashioned medium of pen and paper. I got scribbling. Half way through, I decided I wanted to donate my sketch to some of my work friends, as a little token of something to remember me by. Or rip up.
It was a page of doodles. Little sayings. Little thoughts. Some things I already do. Some things I would like to do. Y’know, rules to live my life by, life’s little instructions. I think the people I gave them to liked them. They said they did. Secretly, they probably think I’m a right weirdy. A try-hard hippie.
And for the second part of today’s Show & Tell, I also picked up a flyer from the nursery the children go to, advertising the Magical Menagerie, as part of the IF: Milton Keynes International Festival. Originally commissioned in 2008 by the French newtown of Sénart, The Magical Menagerie – or Le Manège Carré Sénart - has toured through Europe including Spain, Portugal and Belgium, charming visitors with its mechanical herds of strange beasts from exotic fish and brightly coloured insects to oversized buffalos.
The flyer caught my eye, not only because it winked at me, but also because of the style of illustration. Its the epitomy of French Art-Nouveau, so nicely created. It’s even got an old grainy tea-stained back drop.
I don’t know about you, but I get a feeling of happy satisfaction from writing with a pen. I almost feel, now don’t laugh, like I go into slow motion the moment I lift up my faithful cartridge pen. Its quite a modest pen. A plastic blue one I relied heavily on at school. I actually think its my sisters, but sssh, don’t tell her. She might want it back. When the black ink starts flowing steadily from the nib, all I hear is the smooth movement of the sound of words being written. There’s no scratchy noise of the paper being dragged under the pen tip. There’s no shaking my pen furiously in an effort to release more ink. Its very cathartic. And especially satisfying when the words just keep oozing out of my seemingly idle imagination. Before I know it, I’ve scribbled out a whole page of my notebook and I see more black than cream. And these words are all mine, just for me. As a general rule, anyway.
But hold on a minute. I digress. I also abso-freakin-lutely LOVE technology. Thats the reason for this post, thats my point. I’m totally torn between the art of writing versus the simplicity of signing up to a new form of social media. Twitter. Facebook. Blah Blah Blah. Its all hurriedly thrown at us and I just can’t say NO. For the simple reason there’s always a good arguement to come up with a new Username or a new mail or messenger account.
I have notebooks coming out of my ears. Not literally, no, but I’m trying to paint a picture here, so please, just work with me. I love making lists. I love buying new notebooks. I love having the same size notebooks lined up in a drawer, primed ready for filling with more drivel. And bring back letter writing! Hands up who likes getting handwritten letters or cards in the mail. Exactly. You’ve all got your hands up.
But I also love my Apple iPhone. The amount of Apps I seem to be able to download because I convince myself there’s a valid reason for another one. The fact that I can do so many things in one place. I’m so totally impressed that we just keep improving. Of course there are negative points, but I’m taking a positive spin on this today.
So, before Mr Sandman catches you out, lets move on. What this is really all about is Twitter. Yes, I’ve done it. I’ve signed up. Big deal, I hear you say. Well, actually I agree with you. I mean, who knows if I’ll keep it up. We’ll see. I have good intentions. Isn’t that something? I’ve heard its going to be around for a while, so I thought I’d jump on and experience the ride. You can come with me if you like.