tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56921493572613269732024-02-20T18:24:08.945+00:00Knitting My Own YoghurtLemur Lady's comfy corner of the interweb. Read, smile, maybe even shop a little. I'll put the kettle on.Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-39539058337192144792014-01-15T22:14:00.000+00:002014-01-15T22:14:04.014+00:00It is time to keep your appointment with the Wicker Snake.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xgyQSwMm26w/UtcGgR3FVyI/AAAAAAAACoM/36cunelar5w/s1600/1525726_10153774213540171_8273021_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xgyQSwMm26w/UtcGgR3FVyI/AAAAAAAACoM/36cunelar5w/s1600/1525726_10153774213540171_8273021_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wicker Snake rises triumphant in front of the BARDIS. There's a sentence I never thought I'd type.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Lemur Lady: Look what I just found in the street! Someone had put it outside their house for the bin men.<br />
Significant Otter: Er....<br />
LL: It's a wicker plant holder in the shape of a SNAKE! I mean, at first I nearly walked past it because I thought it was meant to be some kind of tulip or something but then I went back to look and it's definitely supposed to be a snake. Look, it's got little wooden fangs. Thank goodness I went back to check.<br />
SO: Thank goodness.<br />
LL: I bet you've never seen a wicker plant holder in the shape of an actual snake before, have you?<br />
SO: That is true. I have not.<br />
LL: Can I keep it? It's HORRIBLE.<br />
SO: It is. It is kind of hideous.<br />
LL: I KNOW! It's revolting! I love it!<br />
SO <i>(giving in to the inevitable)</i>: Where are you going to put it?<br />
LL: I dunno. I thought maybe the garden. Because I think perhaps the dead plants in it might be diseased so we should probably not have it in the house.<br />
SO: Wow. This gets better.<br />
LL <i>(beaming)</i>: Who would throw this kind of thing away? Ssssh, Wicker Snake. You're safe now.<br />
<br />
And this, friends, is why our house is full of tat.<br />
<br />
Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-75573213699623338792013-11-25T21:23:00.001+00:002013-11-25T21:36:52.089+00:00Why Doctor Who Makes The World A Better Place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UhnU7rEoNDQ/UpPAOrZ-L4I/AAAAAAAACnc/od-Oiu2a7vo/s1600/PDVD_3348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UhnU7rEoNDQ/UpPAOrZ-L4I/AAAAAAAACnc/od-Oiu2a7vo/s400/PDVD_3348.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<![endif]-->For me, this past few days have been like Christmas. Only
better, because Christmas happens every year and you can never guarantee
whether the telly’s going to be any good, whereas this weekend we had The Day
of The Doctor – the 50<sup>th</sup> Anniversary episode of Doctor Who.<br />
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I have been a fan of all things sci fi since I was tiny.
Some of my earliest TV memories are of watching The Hitchhikers Guide to The
Galaxy and Sylvester McCoy fighting daleks. I clearly remember being asked at
age 7 what I wanted to be when I grew up and my answer was ‘Ace’. Although to
be fair I also wanted to be Long Distance Clara the lorry driver from Pigeon
Street so I was nothing if not fickle.</div>
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My childhood Doctor Who memories begin and end with the
Seventh Doctor, as of course the series was plunged into hiatus until 1996, by
which time I was well into my career as a teenage geek and watched with
passionate interest, wearing my Red Dwarf t-shirts, while Paul McGann pitted
against an eye-rollingly<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>camped up Eric
Roberts as the Master. I was immediately smitten. I knew hardly anyone else who
had watched it and had no real frame of reference<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but it rekindled my vague, Davros-tinted
memories and by the time the series was properly rebooted in 2005 I was an
ardent lover of all things Whovian. Like any relationship, we've been through our good times and bad times - I loathed and detested the Ponds but continued watching anyway because you don't walk out of a 50 year relationship just because it gets a bit rocky. "I'm watching out of loyalty", I said at the time, something that baffled my non-fan friends.</div>
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In 1996 when I watched Paul McGann in the first Doctor/companion clinch, it was still pretty uncool to be a Doctor Who fan. On
Saturday, 10 million people watched the special (not counting repeat viewings
and timeshifting), and it was simulcast to over 90 countries. 3D cinema
screenings all over the UK sold out within hours, and social networks have been
buzzing with excitement for months – not just the niche forums, either. It's mainstream now, and that's just wonderful.</div>
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It is a glorious time to be a nerd. And I truly believe that
the rise and rise of Doctor Who is a Good Thing for everyone. It’s not just a
TV programme. It’s more special than that. So without further ado:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>My Top Five Reasons Why Doctor Who Makes The World A Better
Place</b></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> <b>
</b></span></span></span><b>It’s made by fans, for fans</b></div>
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<b> </b> When Russell T Davies brought Doctor Who back in 2005, he
ended a 16 year hiatus since the last ‘proper’ series. But the Doctor hadn’t
been idle in that time; he was saving worlds and battling bad guys in audio
adventures, books, magazines, and – importantly – in the hearts and minds of
one of the most loyal fandoms of any show, ever. Many of those fans now work on
the series. David Tennant was famously inspired to act by watching Doctor Who
as a nipper, Steven Moffat relishes writing for a show that he has grown up
with, and the incoming Doctor, Peter Capaldi once wrote to the Radio Times in
praise of an episode in 1974. You only have to look at the number of ex-stars
who turn up for conventions and wax lyrical about their time on the show to see
how fondly it is remembered. "It's the best job in the world" is a quote that can be attributed to several actors lucky enough to pilot the TARDIS. Tom Baker once said that he loved playing the Doctor more than he loved being himself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The affection and humour with which this 'little show that could' is made transcends cheap props, dodgy effects and quarries in
Wales and shines through the screen. </div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<b><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></b></span></span><b>The Doctor Makes People Better</b></div>
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While that other great British stalwart, James Bond, shoots
and kicks his way to victory, the good Doctor will always strive to show his
enemies the error of their ways rather than destroy them. Granted, occasionally
he’ll whip out some Venusian Akido but that was really just to make that velvet
coat whoosh around in a satisfying manner.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been given the
chance to wipe out the Daleks more than once but ultimately stays his hand.
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">"But if I kill, wipe out a whole
intelligent life form, then I'd become like them. I'd be no better than the
Daleks."</i></td></tr>
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He always finds the best in his human companions, too. Donna
Noble might be ‘just a temp’ and Rose Tyler may be 'just a shop assistant', but to The Doctor they are brilliant; he looks
below their mere workaday definitions of success and sees their cleverness and compassion, their bravery and determination. Nobody is ‘just’ anything to the Doctor. </div>
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"It was a better life", says Rose, "and I don't mean all the travelling
and seeing aliens and spaceships and things, that don't matter. He
showed me a better way of living your life." If we look at the world and our fellow humans like the Doctor does, anything is
possible. The Doctor has an infectious enthusiasm about the wonders of the
universe, a boundless curiosity in heading forth into the unknown carrying ‘a
teaspoon and an open mind’, that is free of dogma and leaves you believing that
even the sky doesn’t need to be the limit. We’re all fantastic in our own ways
and so is the human race. Right down to whoever it was that invented edible
ball bearings for cakes.
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> <b> </b></span></span></span><b>Because SCIENCE, bitches!</b></div>
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The
Doctor is clever. I mean really clever. Properly clever. And he just loves
exercising that grey matter. He’s a scientist, a professor, an historian, an
engineer. He wears glasses. Forget hipsters, the Doctor has been rocking geek
chic since before most of Shoreditch was born. Here is a role model for swots
everywhere – you don’t have to be good at sport (except, arguably, cricket) and
you don’t have to hide your books on astronomy from the cool kids, because The
Doctor makes it cool to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know things</i>!
Way back in the 60’s, a generation of schoolchildren were checking books out of
the library on Roman Centurions because they wanted to know more about where the
Doctor had been. Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre in London saw a surge in visitor numbers
when an episode was set there in 2007. A role model who encourages kids to
learn about the world rather than shoot chunks out of it with Uzis – that’s
a powerful and glorious thing.</div>
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Some
incarnations have even been rather fanciable – imagine that! A sex symbol that
can calculate quantum mechanics! Beat you to it, Professor Brian Cox.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because licking things is also Science.</td></tr>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><b>It’s just so damn BRITISH.</b></div>
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There’s something beautifully British about Doctor Who. Yes,
there’s the police box, the Brigadier, the eccentric clothing, but what makes
it so completely recognisable as coming from these rainy islands is its sense
of humour. Moments of pomposity are punctured with self-deprecation – in the 50<sup>th</sup>
anniversary episode a spectacular Reservoir Dogs –style entrance of the three
Doctors is deflated by a ‘sorry for the showing off’ put down. The Doctor can
laugh at himself – sometimes literally, as in John Hurt’s relentless
piss-taking of his successors in the same episode ("They’re not sand shoes!") .This
is a character who can save the world in his pyjamas, with a satsuma, while
quoting from the Lion King. After being revived from near-death by a cup of tea. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>A programme
that will devote a chunk of precious airtime to putting Tom Baker in a Pythonesque
Viking costume just to get a laugh before sending him back into the TARDIS to
change. A show that can include the line “Don’t say that, that’s like saying ‘this
is going to be the best Christmas Walford’s ever had’” without worrying about
whether it will translate on BBC America.<br />
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The omission of Doctor Who from the opening ceremony of the
London Olympics caused ructions that could be measured on the Richter scale,
because it’s as much a part of our national identity as James Bond, tea and
scones or the Last Night Of The Proms. And I love it for that.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very Arthur Dent.</td></tr>
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</span></span></span><b>Bernard Cribbins.</b></div>
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<b> </b></div>
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<b> </b>I'm just leaving that one there.<b> </b></div>
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<b> </b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82e9w2qaYVw/UpO9NXgRa9I/AAAAAAAACnQ/QSDtAj-2esQ/s1600/wilf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-82e9w2qaYVw/UpO9NXgRa9I/AAAAAAAACnQ/QSDtAj-2esQ/s400/wilf.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No explanation necessary.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And, if you're still unconvinced, here's bonus number six:</div>
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6. <b>Because any show that can inspire this sort of shenanigans at a wrap party is one that deserves to last another 50 years.</b></div>
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Happy 50th Birthday, Doctor. We love you, no matter what face you wear.</div>
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Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-61704855216941554172013-08-06T11:54:00.000+01:002013-08-06T11:55:42.970+01:00Time management skillsI have recently been taking a bit of a self-enforced sabbatical from my creative endeavours to sort out the bit of my life that actually brings in the cash - the boring, day job side. I recently read an article which said that, when self-employed, it is important to take a good look at your time management. It suggested drawing a chart of how you divide your working day. This seemed like an eminently brilliant bit of procrastination, so instead of doing work I made this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ElgQNMtoLr8/UgDVLI5Ab3I/AAAAAAAACmM/67RR9EX190k/s1600/time+management+skills.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ElgQNMtoLr8/UgDVLI5Ab3I/AAAAAAAACmM/67RR9EX190k/s400/time+management+skills.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a very simplified version, of course. I actually do much more. Like drinking tea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
They were right. I now see where I'm going wrong. From now on, I'm going to cut right down on the baby sloth videos. Sorted.<br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-79681590008970637322013-07-10T23:41:00.000+01:002013-07-10T23:43:34.087+01:00In which Significant Otter and I try to sort out my exercise regimeMe: Now I'm working at home I'm not cycling to work anymore and it's making me fat and lazy. I think I might have to join a gym or something awful.<br />
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SO: What gym are you going to join?<br />
<br />
Me: I have no idea. I don't even know where there are any. Or what happens at them. I thought of maybe doing 'spinning' lessons, but then I discovered that it's not just aeroplaning around a big room with your arms out until you fall over. It's just a fancy word for exercise bikes.<br />
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SO: And they stick your feet to the pedals so you can't stop.<br />
<br />
Me: WHAT??? F**k that. That sounds awful. Plus I can't do classes. I'd have to speak to strangers - sweaty ones - and they might even want to have coffee afterwards or something and you know I'm not great at interacting with other people on my own and not freaking them out.<br />
<br />
SO: True. What about jogging round the common?<br />
<br />
Me: Jogging's boring. Plus I have bad knees. Probably.<br />
<br />
SO: Cycle to Sainsbury's instead of taking the car?<br />
<br />
Me: Are you kidding? There's a massive hill on the way back. It'd be knackering.<br />
<br />
SO: So you wouldn't have to do it as often.<br />
<br />
Me: Yeah, but every time I <em>did</em> do it I'd have to stop for a little cry at the top. And I could only carry, like, one apple back from the shop at a time. Not that I buy apples. But I would have to if I was fit.<br />
<br />
SO: Swimming?<br />
<br />
Me: I'm really bad at it. And people tut at you if you want to do widths because you get scared doing lengths when you get to the deep end and can't put your feet down. Plus I always want chips afterwards because swimming makes me really hungry. I think a gym might be the only way. Gym machines are kind of like computer games but with physical stuff, right? Like Wii Fit?<br />
<br />
SO <em>[losing the will to live]</em>: Yes. Yes that's just what it's like. Shall we just get you Wii Fit?<br />
<br />
Me: That is a brilliant idea. Except I can't do any of the really energetic stuff because we have downstairs neighbours.<br />
<br />
SO: You could do them in the day while they're out.<br />
<br />
Me: They're in <em>all day</em>. I know that now, because they keep saying hello to me in the garden. I can't go in the garden now in case I see them and I have to make small talk. I wait for them to go out before I go to put the laundry on the line.<br />
<br />
SO: I think the exercise is the least of your problems.<br />
<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-34270670252065442312013-06-21T12:36:00.001+01:002013-06-21T12:37:20.623+01:00I'm a lonely soldier. But I like it.I am writing this from my bedroom. I am not <i>in </i>bed - in fact, I am up and cleaned and dressed despite it being barely noon. But I am sitting in here to write because the rest of the house is so hideously messy and cat-hairy and in need of housework that if I go out there I will never get anything done due to the sheer, paralysing, deer-in-headlights horror of the Clean All The Things list. I won't actually clean anything, either. I'll make tea, or come across an important magazine article that needs reading, or play with the cat because it looks lonely (translation: "Wake UP, Doug. Play with me. Please?"). Only the other day I ended up doing my tax return in a supreme bout of championship-level procrastination whereby it somehow became a better option than whatever small, less complicated task I was supposed to be doing.<br />
<br />
Procrastination and housework avoidance are just one a few of the issues I have come up against since becoming a full-time work-at-home person a month ago. Due to a very amicable redundancy, I switched from going to an office to sit at a desk (procrastinating), every day to being self-employed, doing much the same work, sitting on a cat-filled sofa (procrastinating), every day. And I have to say, on the whole, I'm enjoying it. I find that I actually get more work done in less time, as I'm more painfully aware of the tasks I need to complete every day. And while I do procrastinate wildly, I do eventually Get Shit Done, partly because I feel like I need to justify my time and prove that I'm not just stroking kittens (I am), drinking tea (I am), and wearing pyjamas (usually).<br />
<br />
I find myself trying to fit more into every day because I'm not constrained by the 9-5. Popping out for a loaf of bread becomes a trip to Sainsbury's followed by Ikea followed by oh I might as well stop for some cake followed by Hobbycraft followed by oh well it's not that far to that nice fabric shop in Tooting I might as well do everything at once seeing as I'm oh dear it's 6pm and I haven't actually done anything of any worth. And I will have invariably forgotten the bread.<br />
<br />
Internet social networking, which was once a horrible, dreadful time-sucking vortex of pointlessness, becomes a veritable boon for the home-worker. Deprived of water cooler moments in the office (we never actually had a water cooler. Who does, really?), my social interaction is reduced to 140 character tweets about how many cups of tea I've had or long, entertaining conversations on Facebook with fellow procrastinators about how we really should get off the internet and do some work. The world of craft is fantastic for this - Facebook is populated by dichotomous agoraphobic socialites working away on their solitary artistic pursuits, stopping to post a picture of a tangled bobbin, a cat eating their knitting, or an anecdote about the post office queue (a rare outing and one which often necessitates the first Outdoor Clothes of the day).<br />
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Then there are the more complicated issues of fending for oneself all day, alone. No longer able to run across the road for an Americano, this week I had to learn how to use the coffee grinder, something which is normally the task of the Significant Otter. This occured:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not pictured: floor. With coffee.</td></tr>
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Honestly, I feel like Bear Grylls in the wilderness. Only I'm not drinking my own pee. Yet.<br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-4478223419465779552013-05-24T13:49:00.001+01:002013-05-24T13:49:27.123+01:00STOP PRESS!! BADGERZILLA UPDATE!!The national press may have gone quiet on the <span id="goog_364269261"></span><a href="http://knittingmyownyoghurt.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/save-yourselves-its-badgerocalypse.html">Badgerocalypse<span id="goog_364269262"></span></a> front but they have missed out on today's important development - we now have an artists impression of the attack of the 50ft badgerzilla from hell which may or may not also be a zombie:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zDLzykfVGSc/UZ9gOjcYOVI/AAAAAAAAClU/Xhv80puN3kc/s1600/apocalypse+badgerzilla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zDLzykfVGSc/UZ9gOjcYOVI/AAAAAAAAClU/Xhv80puN3kc/s640/apocalypse+badgerzilla.jpg" width="482" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE HORROR!!!!<br />
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</tbody></table>
Thanks to our artist-on-the-scene Little Black Heart for this hard-hitting reportage. We can only imagine the atrocities she must have witnessed in the pursuit of the truth.<br />
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You can see more of Little Black Heart's awesome work <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/littleblackheart">here</a> and follow her on Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/littleblackheart.co.uk?fref=ts">here</a><br />
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Don't have nightmares, now.Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-18827726025329394262013-05-23T11:49:00.000+01:002013-05-23T17:37:35.916+01:00SAVE YOURSELVES! IT'S THE BADGEROCALYPSE!I'm not going to beat around the bush. Yesterday, the best headline in the history of the printed word burst forth onto the world. I give you:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H72Xu0jqKvw/UZ3oU_xH1dI/AAAAAAAACkU/qmVOKv54XhA/s640/badgergate.JPG" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BADGERGATE!!! (click for original - hilarious - article)</td></tr>
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Now, already this is the most brilliant thing I've read in ages. But what makes it even more fantastic is that this is happening AT MY OLD SCHOOL.<br />
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Fame at last! I'm a bit jealous, if I'm honest; in my time there we had absolutely no giant wildlife scares. This is literally the most exciting thing to happen at that school since the whole Sixth Form got suspended in leavers week 1997 for drawing massive cocks on the school field with bleach.<br />
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Terrified schoolgirls are apparently being held hostage by this Godzilla of the badger world:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"On one occasion it was spotted underneath one of the mobile classrooms
and the pupils were told to close the window and not to leave until it
was safe."</i><br />
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If they are the same mobiles that were there when I was, their flimsy walls will provide little protection against an attack-badger, especially this one who, we must presume, shares the size and bloodlust of a rabid grizzly bear on acid.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bBGv_LFRP1M/UZ3zAqbysWI/AAAAAAAACk8/FbW0RIQgsKA/s1600/Angry+Badger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bBGv_LFRP1M/UZ3zAqbysWI/AAAAAAAACk8/FbW0RIQgsKA/s1600/Angry+Badger.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angry badger. He will CUT you, yo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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This morning, it's gone viral. Even the Daily Mail is covering the story. I haven't actually read their take, for fear of catching Nazi, but I assume they are going with the angle that this is an immigrant gay badger intent on stealing our jobs and giving us all cancer. Who also killed Princess Di.<br />
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Sadly, I have it on good authority that this is not actually a hitherto undiscovered Giant Badger species, nor a mutant badger that has grown to the size of a small car after ingesting radioactive fish washed down the coast from Dungeness B power station. My sister is a pupil at the school (yes, I do feel old), and she reported first hand, with the practiced pragmatism of the 16 year old proto-goth:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtvNgNl4xe4/UZ3w3KP8YUI/AAAAAAAACkk/TwqT70ydXWc/s1600/badgergate2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="115" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtvNgNl4xe4/UZ3w3KP8YUI/AAAAAAAACkk/TwqT70ydXWc/s640/badgergate2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We'd never need a DNA test to prove we were related...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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So it seems that it is, in fact, just a normal sized badger, but the average teenaged girl thinks that badgers should be the size of hamsters. I sympathise with the confusion, really, as for years I was <i>convinced</i> that puffins were at least as big as emperor penguins. I'm still slightly disappointed at how small they actually are.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fngDmUKEhOA/UZ3xaob0v4I/AAAAAAAACks/y_9aBnq_edM/s1600/farne_puffins_9_470x353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fngDmUKEhOA/UZ3xaob0v4I/AAAAAAAACks/y_9aBnq_edM/s400/farne_puffins_9_470x353.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is clearly an ENORMOUS GIANT MAN. <i>(photo from bbc.co.uk)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The final line of the original article gives me hope, however, that Badgergate may yet take a dramatic turn. Check out how curt the school have been with their official statement.<br />
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<i>"A spokesman for the Folkestone School for Girls said there was no
problem with badgers at the school and that they had no comment to make."</i><br />
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Methinks they protest too much. It's a badger CONSPIRACY, people!<i> </i><br />
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I don't have any badgers in my shop. But I do have foxes. See what I did there, woodland animal fans?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/ourshop/prod_2651434-Little-Foxes-Keyring-Change-Purse.html#.UZ3zjErfKpM" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vjsQL6bmIkc/UZ3ztr5WXwI/AAAAAAAAClE/EeYQVJWdZB4/s400/little+foxes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the picture to visit www.lemurlady.co.uk and buy my stuff. No angry badgers.</td></tr>
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-77333350223522497772013-05-16T12:36:00.003+01:002013-05-16T13:14:12.980+01:00The further adventures of Flat Stanley and his tragic almost-demise.Those who have been following this blog for a while, or who have maybe just been putting very odd search terms into Google, may be familiar with Flat Stanley, the result of my first (and so far only), foray into the art of taxidermy. Stanley was an ex-guinea pig, who had been humanely sourced and who I raised from the choir invisible under the expert tuition of Amanda from <a href="http://www.amandasautopsies.com/">www.amandasautopsies.com</a>/. <br />
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Flat Stanley, as his name suggests, did not turn out to be the most handsome of specimens, but a little Phantom of the Opera costume both hid his disfigurements and gave him a jaunty air. (Original blog post <a href="http://knittingmyownyoghurt.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/meet-stanley-flat-stanley.html">here</a>....)<br />
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Since then, Flat Stanley has been happily housed in a glass case (um, ok, it's actually a giant sweetie jar. But we took the labels off and washed out all traces of sherbert lemons), on the mantelpiece. His fame has been such he and his jar have even been on stage:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tfx-xjtFC9E/UZS6ij-tx5I/AAAAAAAACjM/QkEQEBJHB1w/s1600/hypochondriac-12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tfx-xjtFC9E/UZS6ij-tx5I/AAAAAAAACjM/QkEQEBJHB1w/s640/hypochondriac-12.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was <i>such</i> a diva.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then, last night, something TERRIBLE happened.<br />
<br />
We came home to a scene of devastation. Flat Stanley's sweetie jar, with Flat Stanley helpless within it, had fallen off the mantelpiece. Glass was everywhere. As for Stanley...well. Let's just say it wasn't pretty. Doug the cat (for we know it must have been him, his sister is far too thick to work out how to extricate a stuffed rodent from a jar), had no intentions of letting Stanley rest in peace. This conversation occured:<br />
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LL: What is that? Is that, like, a dead bird or somethingOHMYGODITSFLATSTANLEY!!!<br />
SO: Don't look. Oh God. Don't look.<br />
LL: He...he....he has no hands!<br />
SO: Nope. Or feet.<br />
LL: And his FACE! Doug has eaten HIS FACE!!! What is WRONG with that cat? He's a psychopath!<br />
SO: At least Doug didn't hurt himself on the glass or anything while he was carrying out his abominations.<br />
LL: Yeah. I wouldn't have wanted to explain that to the vet.<br />
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SO thought that the cats had knocked the jar off the mantelpiece. I maintained that Stanley had been up there since last September and they'd never knocked it down before. BUT I don't think it is any coincidence that this happened very shortly after the arrival of Super Rat (who I think might have evil kinetic powers. SO says I have been watching too many films). Our mantelpiece became a lineup of suspects:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OFL4EHu35og/UZTA0pm-B9I/AAAAAAAACjc/KYWkD_47R_Y/s1600/mantelpiece.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OFL4EHu35og/UZTA0pm-B9I/AAAAAAAACjc/KYWkD_47R_Y/s640/mantelpiece.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The skull is plaster of paris. I promise.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Whether he fell or was pushed, Flat Stanley had gone from being a slightly odd but kind of adorable ornament to a TERRIFYING FACELESS ZOMBIE RODENT that I couldn't have in the house any longer. I wanted to throw it out, but SO was all "no, I can save him and make him less like the stuff of nightmares". I was off out for the evening, so I gave SO an ultimatum - by the time I got back, the Thing that used to be Flat Stanley either had to be buried at a crossroads or somehow made into something that I could bear having under my roof and that wouldn't rise in the night and kill us all.<br />
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While I was out, this text conversation occured:<br />
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SO: Flat Stanley looks like a burns victim. in his bandages.<br />
LL: Are you trying to make him into a mummy?<br />
SO: i might have to age his wrappings with tea bags.<br />
LL: I'm not sure if you are a genius. I think you might be. i also think Flat Stanley might be haunted.<br />
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So. Long story short. When I got back, this had happened...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylIwdQSR_pc/UZTDjzvszgI/AAAAAAAACkE/Gq-ssMVENFs/s1600/before+and+after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="441" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylIwdQSR_pc/UZTDjzvszgI/AAAAAAAACkE/Gq-ssMVENFs/s640/before+and+after.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">IT LIVES!!!!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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If you read this, Significant Otter, thank you. Thank you for fixing my faceless, limbless, possibly haunted dead guinea pig. It's these little things that make a marriage.<br />
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Epilogue: I <i>almost </i>wasn't going to share this last bit, for the sake of everyone. But a problem shared is a problem spread around, so I don't see why I should be the only one holding this hideous information in my head. Shortly after this picture was taken, this occurred:<br />
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LL: Where did you get all the cotton wool to reconstruct his feets? We don't have any cotton wool.<br />
SO: Um. I owe you two tampons.<br />
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AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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You're all welcome. <br />
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Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-76111258413584388772013-04-25T12:45:00.000+01:002013-04-25T14:45:34.518+01:00Stuff I did when I wasn't here (with apologies for title nicked from The Bloggess)While I've been cracking on with keeping the shelves filled at the <a href="http://www.lemurlady.co.uk/">Emporium</a>, you may have noticed I've been a bit quiet recently (damn, I hear you cry, she's back). This is because I've been beavering away with various other creations in the meantime. So to prove I'm not lazy, here's what I've been up to...<br />
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This spring has been frock-coat-ageddon as I've been helping with costumes for various plays at my local haunt the <a href="http://www.southlondontheate.co.uk/">South London Theatre</a>. April saw my most ambitious task yet as I made a tail coat for the character of Branwell Brontë in Polly Teale's <i>Brontë</i>. It helped that a) the director of the play is an all-round sewing ninja herself and chose and cut the pattern, so all I had to do was fit it and sew it together, and b) the character in question was being played by Significant Otter himself, so I had a live-in model to stick with pins.<br />
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Still, it was pretty tricky considering I very rarely dabble in clothesmaking. Significant Otter is, basically, shaped like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Bravo">Johnny Bravo</a>, which resulted in lots of extra fitting around the waist and some serious shoulderpad action up top. And I have resolved never to work with velvet again, mostly because of the quite <i>ridonkulous</i> amount of fluff and fuzz it created in my sewing machine, on the floor, in my hair and all over my pyjamas (yes, I sew in my jammies, what?). Turned out rather dashing in the end though, I think:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VzHo1X34s8k/UXkOjCqjVqI/AAAAAAAAChg/FQF_VzouiuA/s1600/bronte+tailcoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VzHo1X34s8k/UXkOjCqjVqI/AAAAAAAAChg/FQF_VzouiuA/s400/bronte+tailcoat.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture by Philip Gammon. (NB this was part of the play, not an emergency onstage hem repair. Honest)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Buoyed by this, and while waiting for some fabric to arrive for some custom orders, I decided to have another crack at making something for myself. My sartorial leanings are eclectic but generally err towards the vintage. The problem with genuine vintage patterns, however, is that they can be fiendishly difficult to make and fit - something I don't have the time, patience, or dressmaking experience to be doing with. The joy of bags and purses, you see, is that they don't have to fit actual humans. Give me a complicated buckle fastening or a folded strap and I'm all over it, but ask me to grade a dress pattern and it's tantrums and tears before bedtime.<br />
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Enter my saviour: <a href="http://www.elizamvintagesewing.co.uk/">Eliza M (www.elizamvintagesewing.co.uk)</a>. The UK-based Eliza M creates patterns based on staple vintage styles that do away with all the complicated stuff and are simple enough for beginners and intermediate sewers to approach without fear.<br />
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This was my first experience with an Eliza M pattern but I will be buying many more - I really can't recommend her enough if you have vintage tastes but modern skills (i.e. you are not an actual sewing wizard like Anne on the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0165nj8">Great British Sewing Bee</a>. Incidentally, does anyone else think that 75 years of experience is basically cheating? She was like a sewing Yoda).<br />
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I chose the '<a href="http://www.elizamvintagesewing.co.uk/sewing-patterns/blousepatterns/pussy-galore-blouse.html">Pussy Galore Blouse</a>' (stop sniggering at the back), and a cheap, £6.99 a metre cotton lawn from my local haberdashers in a cornflower blue with white swallows (or possibly ducks. or geese? pigeons, maybe).<br />
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The pattern itself comes in a clever A4 slip folder which means no more stuffing bits of tissue back into suddenly-too-small envelopes. I was immediately heartened by the final instruction:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HJGTlmlgrT0/UXkScBBv9NI/AAAAAAAAChw/3GmB6CMUZ-8/s1600/48052_458847364194297_1148221728_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HJGTlmlgrT0/UXkScBBv9NI/AAAAAAAAChw/3GmB6CMUZ-8/s320/48052_458847364194297_1148221728_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearly, these are my kind of peoples.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The instructions are for the most part simple and clear, although I had a bit of an argument with the facing on the inside of the neck, which at one point turned into an Escher-like puzzle and I was in danger of creating the worlds first Mobius-blouse. However it resolved itself eventually and I came out the other end with an Actual Thing:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wn8Ecmc3ocI/UXkTV2s0dqI/AAAAAAAACh8/UDe5dDN0A3k/s1600/blouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wn8Ecmc3ocI/UXkTV2s0dqI/AAAAAAAACh8/UDe5dDN0A3k/s400/blouse.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's got arms and buttons and everything!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The fit is a tiny bit off, but that's more my own inexperience than anything, and I did mess up the collar a bit, but it doesn't show because of the whacking great bow at the front covering a multitude of sins.<br />
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All in all it took me a couple of evenings and not all that much swearing at all. I'm now mulling over which of the Eliza M trouser patterns to attempt to complete the outfit.<br />
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So if you've been scared off vintage dressmaking because you wouldn't know a princess seam or a pintuck if it smacked you in the face, fear not! Eliza M is there for you. Go for it, my sewing paduans!<br />
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In other news.....this is the fabric I was waiting for. Yup, they now make Star Trek fabric. Bow down in awe.<br />
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The middle one is currently available as a <a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/ourshop/prod_2606991-Star-Trek-Phone-Case-made-to-order.html#.UXkV9UrMup0">made-to-order phone cover </a>, but if you have a burning desire for a Star Trek/Star Wars purse, Kindle cover, bag, teacosy (maybe not the teacosy), then head on over to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lemurlady">https://www.facebook.com/lemurlady</a> and get in touch.<br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-44243904771814034112013-04-03T11:36:00.001+01:002013-04-03T23:55:51.852+01:00The Massive Patriotic Stripey Crafting Insect<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ylG8oEnvB1E/UVwBC8H-1lI/AAAAAAAAChI/VNTKimNflkM/s1600/bees11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ylG8oEnvB1E/UVwBC8H-1lI/AAAAAAAAChI/VNTKimNflkM/s320/bees11.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a sewing bee.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hands up who watched the first episode of <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0165nv7">'The Great British Sewing Bee'</a> last night?<br />
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<span id="goog_1892533897"></span><span id="goog_1892533898"></span>Keep your hands up if you started watching with the intention of going "pffft, I could do that". Quite a few of you? Yeah, me too.<br />
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Now keep your hands up if you <i>still</i> thought that after the first round of judging? Yeah. Not so tough now, are we?<br />
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The challenges <i>sounded</i> pretty simple - make an A-line skirt from a pattern, alter a neckline, fit a dress. But that was before the scariest HE teacher in the world (who looks like she might have swallowed a bee herself), and her sharp suited friend stepped in with their eyes for microscopic detail. Those poor contestants are going to be having nightmares about slightly puckered zips and unbalanced hems for years. I'd have run away, crying, trailing bias tape in my wake within the first half hour.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q7_vNXEgejk/UVwBDNOfHdI/AAAAAAAAChQ/zKbuSj9c9jU/s1600/vespiform.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q7_vNXEgejk/UVwBDNOfHdI/AAAAAAAAChQ/zKbuSj9c9jU/s320/vespiform.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also not a sewing bee.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But let's not be downhearted, fellow sewists. Because we all know that what the GBSB contestants face is not a patch on the challenges we face every day of our crafting lives. In order to really give them a fair test of what the real-life home sewist has to cope with, I think they should add the following tasks:<br />
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<b>The All-Nighter</b><br />
Contestants must create a school nativity costume/theatrical prop/fancy dress outfit/party dress from only items they can find in their own house. The challenge will be presented to them at 8.45pm the night before the item is due to be needed. Extra points awarded for sewing quietly and not waking up the house.<br />
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<b>Speed Unpicking</b><br />
Contestants must race to unpick a sleeve from a garment which has been put in upside down. Extra points given for creativity of swearing.<br />
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<b>Pin Management</b><br />
Contestants must tip a box of pins on the floor and attempt to collect every single one within a two minute time limit (the maximum amount of time one realistically has before a barefoot child/spouse/family pet comes in and treads on them all).<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J2SxV1irmmI/UVwBC94t1bI/AAAAAAAAChM/nnfYGrR-PMM/s1600/bumblebee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J2SxV1irmmI/UVwBC94t1bI/AAAAAAAAChM/nnfYGrR-PMM/s320/bumblebee.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bumblebee does not sew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Additional Rules</b> <br />
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<ul>
<li>For maximum realism, contestants are allowed a constant supply of tea (however, any contestant seen finishing a cup, rather than letting half of it go cold, will be disqualified). For the All Nighter challenge, wine may be substituted for tea.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>At irregular intervals, several cats will be released into the studio to walk all over the tables and sit on the ironing boards. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>And, most importantly, no matter how tight the deadline, contestants must spend at least twenty minutes of every hour procrastinating on Facebook and/or making toast.</li>
</ul>
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Yeah. That's more like it. <br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-88843171479608443882013-02-22T14:39:00.001+00:002013-02-22T15:07:39.788+00:00Bear with...It's been a bit slow going today at Lemur Towers, on account of how earlier this week, this occured:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ9r3xEBMVY/USeAyDNmbWI/AAAAAAAACQI/6XEgCSfLM1M/s1600/shelfgeddon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ9r3xEBMVY/USeAyDNmbWI/AAAAAAAACQI/6XEgCSfLM1M/s400/shelfgeddon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See how brave zombie lemur tried to call for help by waving his little arms...</td></tr>
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This is right above my sewing desk, and luckily didn't happen while I was in there as I would have been buried to death under All The Boardgames in The World. Which would have been humiliating to put on my tombstone.<br />
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Luckily, Significant Otter was there to tidy up the immediate aftermath of Shelfgeddon, which involved picking up, among other things: 5,634,579 playing tokens from various games, all the Trivial Pursuit cards, several chess pieces and a 'Make Your Own Morph Out Of Plasticine' kit. Even more luckily, Banana the Bernina was unscathed as the shelf itself created a ski ramp for all the Cluedo counters to whizz over the top of the desk and straight into the cats' bowls on the other side of the room, with spectacular results.<br />
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On closer inspection this morning, though, it appeared that the the shelf contents had brought with them a Sahara's worth of accumulated dust, which took an AGE to wipe up, and something surprisingly heavy (possibly a Monopoly Iron, travelling at critical velocity?), has gouged a sizeable dent right in the middle of my cutting table. Which is highly annoying.<br />
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Still. I think I'm back in the game now (pun unintended - too soon), and ready to start stitching again. Might just take all the stuff off that shelf underneath first, to be on the safe side....Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-8512162810257353762013-02-08T17:10:00.000+00:002013-02-08T17:10:53.127+00:00Where the magic happensMy little sister Ellie is embarrassingly, horribly talented. She's only sixteen and the artwork she creates is already enough to send grown artists slashing their canvases and cutting off their ears in despair. Her Facebook page, where she posts under the moniker '<a href="https://www.facebook.com/PaintPixie?fref=ts">Paint Dipped Pixie</a>', showcases her emerging talent.<br />
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The only consolation I have is that she still has to go to school and do exams. With this is mind she posted the following plea a couple of days ago:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z-R3ijbMsHs/URUpIxv48KI/AAAAAAAACJg/7N_AxxR3RIE/s1600/Capture.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z-R3ijbMsHs/URUpIxv48KI/AAAAAAAACJg/7N_AxxR3RIE/s320/Capture.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now, I often see fellow crafters posting pictures of their studios online and they are generally airy, beautiful, co-ordinated spaces, with complex and attractive fabric storage systems, inspirational art on the walls and handmade angora throws on the ergonomic furniture. The sort of place, in short, where a creative soul might waft about, creatively, sipping herbal tea while gazing at the moors out of the window waiting for inspiration to strike.<br />
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So I originally wasn't going to make my space public AT ALL. But in the end I felt I owed it to all those crafters - I know you're out there - who divide their working time between Facebooking, searching for your pincushion for the seventeenth time that morning, shooing the cat off the ironing board, desperately trying to find a single clean cup that you haven't already used to put tea in then left somewhere and forgotten about, and occasional short bouts of feverish creativity. We don't normally show off our 'creative spaces'. Often because we can't find them under all the mess. But I'm going to let you peek in to mine, right now. (Not a euphemism).<br />
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All of my sewing room can be photographed from the doorway. Thusly:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRddpsJZqio/URUrcdUTA3I/AAAAAAAACJw/JIPQVCTlGn8/s1600/studio1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRddpsJZqio/URUrcdUTA3I/AAAAAAAACJw/JIPQVCTlGn8/s400/studio1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note inspirational view of brick wall.<br />
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At my feet, where you can't see them, are the cats' bowls. I have the luxury of a cutting table on the right, there, which only has one wobbly leg. Banana the Bernina sits faithfully on an old Ikea desk, while my laptop (for Facebooking and listening to audiobooks), is propped on boxes of fabric.<br />
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Come with me, if you will, all the way over to the Other Side of the Room. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IyjMFbqEDsk/URUsqycnc2I/AAAAAAAACKI/baTFQ-Exq1I/s1600/studio2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IyjMFbqEDsk/URUsqycnc2I/AAAAAAAACKI/baTFQ-Exq1I/s400/studio2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No. I don't know why the air compressor' is there either.<br />
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EVERYTHING lives on these shelves. Except for what is jammed into the drawers, which is mostly fabric:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5nhOktZlEPU/URUtWttrYOI/AAAAAAAACKY/CI-LQE1tRe8/s1600/IMG_20130208_164816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5nhOktZlEPU/URUtWttrYOI/AAAAAAAACKY/CI-LQE1tRe8/s400/IMG_20130208_164816.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My name is Lemur Lady and I have a hoarding problem.</td></tr>
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The Fabric Drawers of Joy are my second favourite bit of the room. My favourite is the Accidental Shrine of Inspiration:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1W8JWSwI_o/URUttHk-0pI/AAAAAAAACKg/ONjPU8XQDLQ/s1600/studio3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1W8JWSwI_o/URUttHk-0pI/AAAAAAAACKg/ONjPU8XQDLQ/s640/studio3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK. Now I realise it looks a bit obsessive and murdery. </td></tr>
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The mantelpiece and the wall above it have sort of acquired lots of handmade bitses and pieceses I have bought or been given from other crafters. The picture at the top is my all-time favourite quote from Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome, done as a letterpress print. Under that is my <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/fionaT">FionaT</a> original 'Dawn of the Thread', which makes me smile every time I look at it. Then we have a drawing done by the aforementioned Ellie a few years ago - me as Wonder Woman getting a piggyback from the Wolverine (the Significant Otter's alter-ego). You may also spot another couple of <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/fionaT">FionaT</a>'s (I promise this isn't a stalkers shrine. Honest.), and a <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/littleblackheart">Little Black Heart</a> ACEO along with a <a href="http://www.quernuscrafts.co.uk/">Quernus Crafts</a> teacup mouse and my wonderful Prince Charming Adam Ant-Mouse.<br />
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Also, *cough*, my lanyards from the preview week of the Doctor Who Experience which S.O. took me to for my 30th birthday. It was brilliant. There were daleks and EVERYTHING.</div>
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Not pictured: <br />
<ul>
<li>Enormous poster of David Tennant looking all brooding in Hamlet, </li>
<li>Very precarious shelf barely supporting carrier-bags of half-finished and forgotten projects</li>
<li>Slightly OCD arrangement of hooks above desk holding scissors and other Important Things so I don't spend hours looking for them every day</li>
<li>Three half-drunk mugs of tea</li>
<li>Cat litter tray</li>
<li>Cat</li>
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So. I hope that wasn't too disappointing, Ellie. One day I will have a grown up studio with big sweeping tables and those slanty desks that you can stand up at and draw things, and not-dead pot plants. But it'll still be full of tea cups and the cats will want somewhere to sit, so don't expect too much.<br />
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Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-5409618255855963272013-01-30T15:24:00.001+00:002013-01-30T15:24:46.719+00:00Oh Facebook, why do you hide my stuff?Are you on Facebook? Have you, like me, been tearing your hair out, wringing your hands, and generally a-wailing and a-gnashing of your teeth at its recent shenanigans? No? Well, maybe you're not as melodramatic as I am. Still, you may well be miffed at how your Newsfeed seems to be picking and choosing what it wants to show you.<br />
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Facebook has tidied updates from Pages (as opposed to your friends), into a seperate feed. Which is all very neat, but is proving rather detrimental to a lot of hardworking independent businesses and crafters as they are posting away while their audience is blissfully unaware.<br />
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Here is how to view those posts, so that you can catch up on all your favourite pages. And if you haven't already, you might like to add <a href="http://www.facebook.com/lemurlady">www.facebook.com/lemurlady</a> to that list. Ah, g'wan.<br />
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You're welcome, procrastinators everywhere!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O3DY2-QyarQ/UQk64dgDx0I/AAAAAAAACHM/ZN1Lcxcfp-M/s1600/Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O3DY2-QyarQ/UQk64dgDx0I/AAAAAAAACHM/ZN1Lcxcfp-M/s640/Facebook.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-62363735138116524482013-01-24T12:00:00.001+00:002013-01-24T12:01:54.822+00:00Time flies like an arrow......fruit flies like a banana.<br />
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And apparently I haven't blogged since NOVEMBER! A combination of being very busy, not having anything interesting to say and writer's block, I guess.<br />
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I'm not sure I have anything interesting to say now, to be honest, but I'm working on the principle that if I at least get some words down on this blank page it might kickstart my blog-life for 2013.<br />
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So.....um....how are you? Good? Excellent. What happened with that matter with the dog and the neighbour's Fiesta? Was it all resolved? And your family? Great Auntie Maud still complaining about that woman with the gammy eye who sits next to her at bingo? Splendid. What have I been up to, you ask? Hmm...<br />
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Christmas came and went, as it is wont to do. I tried, as I have the last few years, to buy handmade presents as far as possible. I find that I end up spending less but on fewer, better quality and more meaningful items. It's a great way of both stopping the crazy Christmas spend and at the same time giving presents that you are really proud to be handing over. This years purchases included a gorgeous handmade crayon set from <a href="http://www.colourmefun.co.uk/">Colour Me Fun</a>, a pretty glass candle holder from<a href="http://www.diomoglass.co.uk/"> Diomo Glass</a> and some smashing cufflinks from <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/quirkii">Quirkii</a>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-VVT-IxR9M/UQEhp0HriaI/AAAAAAAACFk/JflMG2Q2PEk/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-VVT-IxR9M/UQEhp0HriaI/AAAAAAAACFk/JflMG2Q2PEk/s640/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos courtesy of Quirkii, Colour Me Fun, Diomo Glass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And now it's the new year! Quite a way in, in fact. Did you make any resolutions? I try not to. Resolutions always seem to be about 'stopping' this or 'giving up' that. Of course we're not going to keep to them, they are self-inflicted punishments and the minute the imaginary schoolteacher that is January disappears over the horizon we'll be back to our old ways. <br />
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So instead of the 'New Year's Resolution', I'm more in favour of the 'Ongoing Non-Calendar-Specific Vague Quest For Betterment and Doing More Stuff'. It's a working title. I'd like to continue growing my business, get into a less stressful place with my day job, be more productive with the time I have, and generally Sort Things Out. I don't have a target date as I would definitely go past it and depress myself; rather I just have a sort of renewed determination to do things better this year. I think, if we are all honest with ourselves, once the diets and the dry Januarys are over, that's all it really comes down to.<br />
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What's my resolution for 2013? Carry on being me. Just get better at it. <br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-59762266641903866732012-11-14T13:23:00.001+00:002012-11-14T13:28:41.710+00:00I promise I'm not a murderer.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.southlondontheatre.co.uk/newSLT/index.php?option=com_jevents&task=icalrepeat.detail&evid=2534&Itemid=3&year=2012&month=11&day=20&title=a-skull-in-connemara&uid=61680965-F585-4AF3-8B64-4766333D898D&catids=3" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6tytfagvFc/UKObNPAAzfI/AAAAAAAABv4/IVRhI4rWNxI/s400/300px-SkullInConnemaraPoster.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
This is a sort of 'out-of-office' post, as I'm literally popping in to say that I'm sorry I haven't been popping in recently. It's an anti-post, if you will. A blogging oxymoron.<br />
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Some of my readers will already know that, in addition to sewing, I spend a large amount of what I laughingly call 'spare time' at my local amateur theatre company - the <a href="http://www.southlondontheatre.co.uk/">South London Theatre</a>. I've spent the recent weeks directing a production of Martin McDonagh's<a href="http://www.southlondontheatre.co.uk/newSLT/index.php?option=com_jevents&task=icalrepeat.detail&evid=2534&Itemid=3&year=2012&month=11&day=20&title=a-skull-in-connemara&uid=61680965-F585-4AF3-8B64-4766333D898D&catids=3"> 'A Skull in Connemara'</a>, which has taken up a lot of my time.<br />
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It's also taken up a lot of Significant Otter's time, as he has been lending his crafty skills to my prop and set design. I shan't give too much away till the show's over, but suffice to say that this conversation happened far too often at a wedding we attended last weekend:<br />
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<b>Drunken SO <i>(to literally anyone who would stand still)</i>:</b> I've got to dig two graves tomorrow. For all the skulls. <i>(points at me) </i>It's ok, it's all her fault.<br />
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<b>ME: </b><i><b>(to terrified bystander, while SO wanders off towards the dance floor):</b> </i>It's for a PLAY. The graves are for a play! And the skulls aren't real! Wait...come back....let me explain.....<br />
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I shall come back and explain more, next week. In the meantime, stay warm and keep stitching - someone has to take up the slack!<br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-87713322296193985902012-10-24T13:14:00.000+01:002012-10-24T17:24:16.989+01:00Happy Halloween!I've been a busy bee lately starting my Christmas orders, but let's not forget there's another celebration coming up that, arguably, is just as much fun but without all the present pressure!<br />
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Should you want a little something to mark the ghoulish occasion, be it gifts or decorations, you can rely on makers of handmade crafts to come up with the goods. To prove that the devil gets all the best goodies (as well as music), here's a small selection of my favourite handmade Halloween items. Some eye candy to go along with the sugar candy, if you will. Click on the links below the pics to go straight to the product.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E7L7m-X1MH0/UIfU-mbI9bI/AAAAAAAABu0/AOBaEA2wGA8/s320/monster.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://folksy.com/items/3715266-child-s-monster-costume-green-red-halloween-for-baby-and-toddler">Handmade Monster Costume </a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This monster costume from <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/GuuGuuGa">GuuGuuGa</a> makes me *snork* with laughter. If I had a child it would be in fancy dress ALL THE TIME. Whether it liked it or not. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://folksy.com/items/3385934-Skeleton-Hands-Halloween-Headband">Skeleton Hands Halloween Headband</a></td></tr>
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<a href="http://folksy.com/shops/janinebasil">Janine Basil</a> makes the most incredible hair accessories. This would be brilliant for a halloween party - or even a halloween wedding. In fact, please, someone wear this at their wedding. And send me pictorial evidence. Kthxbai.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xjAkGZq9YI4/UIfXNHKV54I/AAAAAAAABvE/BNkEfv6DyU4/s1600/pumpkins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xjAkGZq9YI4/UIfXNHKV54I/AAAAAAAABvE/BNkEfv6DyU4/s320/pumpkins.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mogstogscatcollars.com/ourshop/prod_2211523-Jack-OLanterns.html">Jack O'Lantern Cat Collar</a></td></tr>
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Mustn't forget the furbabies at Halloween! I love the little pumpkin charm on this cat collar from <a href="http://www.mogstogscatcollars.com/">Mogs Togs</a>. They've got candy corn, spiderwebs and skull and crossbones versions too. If only Doug would stop losing his collars....<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1s0hHkTun8/UIfYmBAxhxI/AAAAAAAABvM/uIwaYzXvFuU/s1600/soap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o1s0hHkTun8/UIfYmBAxhxI/AAAAAAAABvM/uIwaYzXvFuU/s320/soap.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://folksy.com/items/3662178-Trick-or-Treat-Handmade-Spiced-soap">'Trick or Treat' Handmade Spiced Soap</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Yup, you can even get spooky soap! This 'Trick or Treat' soap from <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/OakwoodSoaperie">Oakwood Soaperie</a> looks as good as it smells, with layers of black mica swirled throughout for a spine-chillingly luxurious bathtime.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lw0ZviDLCc8/UIfZq_AgF9I/AAAAAAAABvU/ux5GvcHzeMc/s1600/earrings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lw0ZviDLCc8/UIfZq_AgF9I/AAAAAAAABvU/ux5GvcHzeMc/s320/earrings.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://folksy.com/items/2317221-Hollow-Pumpkin-earrings-halloween">Hollow Pumpkin Earrings</a></td></tr>
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How on <i>earth</i><a href="http://folksy.com/shops/SulwenArts"> Sulwen Arts</a> manages to hand-carve these teeny polymer clay pumpkins so that they are hollow like real jack o'lanterns is utterly beyond me. Eagle-eyed Tim Burton fans will also spot earrings shaped like the Boogeyman's dice in her Folksy shop.<br />
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I'll leave you with a word from our sponsor, Angry Lemur. Don't have nightmares, now.<br />
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<a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2mSjV2zYSPQ/UIfaxH6RCgI/AAAAAAAABvc/5TsGVDG_Y-k/s400/HalloweenLemur.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-23229871510103366812012-10-10T11:50:00.001+01:002012-10-10T11:54:00.799+01:00In which I sell Things in the Real WorldI've been making stuff out of fabric with skulls on and selling them to people under the guise of Lemur Lady for nearly two years now, but so far I have been able to hide behind the cosy virtual padded walls of the Interwebs. Aside from the odd cash sale to long-suffering friends ("I see you have a new phone. You know what you need for that? A phone cover with frogs on. Go on, buy one and I'll go away"), everything I've made has been photographed, Paypalled and posted.<br />
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I like running an internet craft business. It's warm and dry and apart from visits to the post office I can mostly do it in my pyjamas. I also have a lovely support network of other crafters, especially on my Facebook page. Whilst I wouldn't know them from Adam should I bump into them in the street (unless they too were in the post office queue in their pyjamas, which would be a dead giveaway), Facebook regulars such as <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/lizziemade" target="_blank">LizzieMade</a>, <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/fionaT" target="_blank">FionaT</a> and <a href="http://www.oddsoxrox.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">OddSox</a> make the virtual world seem like one big crafty community as homeworkers everywhere wait with bated breath for the 5 o'clock Friday wine bell to be rung by <a href="http://folksy.com/shops/littleblackheart" target="_blank">Little Black Heart.</a><br />
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So it was more in the aid of facing a fear than anything else that made me sign up to do my first actual, Real Life (TM) craft fair stall last weekend.<br />
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I live in West Norwood, a suburb of South London that has in recent years become home to the <a href="http://westnorwoodfeast.com/" target="_blank">West Norwood Feas</a>t - a 'people powered market' that takes over the area on the first Sunday of every month. There are food stalls, craft stalls, performance areas, and a general feeling of villageyness (yes, that is a word. now.), in this unassuming high street. Since I live literally walking distance from the Artisans Hub (posh words for 'craft stall bit'), I thought it was time to stop spectating and get involved.<br />
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The month or so running up to the Feast saw me in a flurry of activity, desperately trying to get enough items made to have a respectable-looking stall. Finally, after burning the candle at both ends for so long that I gave up and chucked it on the fire, I was ready.<br />
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The night before I set out all my wares on a practice table at home. Eschewing the idea of a boring white tablecloth, I found this smashing spotty affair in IKEA. An eleventh-hour panic about how to display jewellery was quelled by the ever-resourceful Significant Otter, who invented the mushroomy-looking thing on the right of the table. It's a lampshade, stuck on top of an old gin bottle. And it spins! Honestly, that man could give MacGyver a run for his money. I'd worry, if his freaky talents weren't so useful.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7GOYfV8a3MI/UHVR-_mgzpI/AAAAAAAABYA/htpZ7YZqwYM/s1600/craft+table+setup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7GOYfV8a3MI/UHVR-_mgzpI/AAAAAAAABYA/htpZ7YZqwYM/s640/craft+table+setup.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The actual table was much bigger. I will remember this next time....</td></tr>
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I was ready. I had stock, I had stuff to put stock in and on, I knew where I was going and when I had to get there.<br />
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Unfortunately, I also had a birthday dinner to go to that evening. The phrase "I'll just have a couple of glasses of wine, I've got a busy day tomorrow" was heard to escape my lips early on, but was quickly forgotten.<br />
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I learned the hard way, so you don't have to, that craft fairs are probably best attempted without a hangover.<br />
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Still.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm pretty sure the TARDIS parking space brought me luck.</td></tr>
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After I'd got set up and had a restorative cup of tea, the world seemed a better place. I felt much like a small child playing at post offices among all the grown ups, most of whom were seasoned veterans, but my first sale settled my fears and I was able to get into my stride and really enjoy the day. <br />
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Against my expectations, I really enjoyed myself. I was convinced that people would think my stuff overpriced, underwhelming, badly made - all those things that the sensible me knows aren't true but that still rear their heads. But it soon became clear that my stall - and my items - were making people smile and, importantly, part with their cash. <br />
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Would I do it again? Definitely, although with a full-time job as well I would never be able to maintain stock levels high enough to do fairs every week, or even every month. But it was a great confidence-booster to show off my work in the real world.<br />
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Having said that, I'm glad to be getting back to my custom orders and my online shop. Perhaps when I am a rich lady of leisure I'll be able to do both, but for now, I'm off back to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lemurlady" target="_blank">Facebook</a> to find out what everyone's been up to without me. <br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-282196761719787532012-09-10T19:49:00.002+01:002012-09-11T00:54:19.461+01:00Meet Stanley. Flat StanleyLast Saturday morning, I woke up, slightly hungover, and remembered that I had to be in the City of London in an hour and a half, stuffing a guinea pig.<br />
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This was not a normal weekend. Let me 'splain. And first, let me warn those of a squeamish disposition that - while I will not include any graphic descriptions or pictures - this post does concern taxidermy. If it bothers you, I won't be offended if you move on. I'll be back with more humorous sewing stories soon.<br />
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I am an animal lover. I have two cats that I adore much more than I think I probably could any children (children are noisy and not furry - usually - and much harder to put in a cattery when you go on holiday), and I grew up on a farm where there was a constant stream of wildlife and pets zipping about the house and garden. I also have a soft spot for whimsical taxidermy. It's not like I have a<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxCfxxeGhXA" target="_blank"> squirrel army</a> in my house or anything (in fact, until this weekend, my house was free of deceased animals. As far as I know.), but I have no problem with it.<br />
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Amanda of the gruesomely-named <a href="http://www.amandasautopsies.com/" target="_blank">Amanda's Autopsies</a> creates beautiful ethical taxidermy oddities and jewellery, inspired by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Potter" target="_blank">Walter Potter</a>, whose creations fascinated me as a (admittedly slightly odd), child. Whatever your feelings on the display of animals after-life, as it were, there can be no denying the skill and imagination in these pieces. I am most certainly not advocating killing interesting beasties purely to decorate one's mantelpiece and nor am I eyeing up my own pets to make into <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/video/2012/jun/05/catcopter-dutch-artist-amsterdam-video" target="_blank">catcopters</a>, but I personally think that - as with the case of Amanda's pieces - if given the choice between being snake food and having a whole lot of love and care invested in your remains in order to preserve their beauty, I'd rather the latter. If I was a rodent. And, lets face it, the rodent probably isn't that worried either way.<br />
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And as with anything I am interested in, if given the chance to learn how to do it, I will jump at it.<br />
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So it was that I enrolled in Amanda's 'Stuff & Nonsense' Taxidermy for Beginners course last weekend, and learned how to stuff my own guinea pig. Except it wasn't my own guinea pig, it was one specially provided; sourced, as explained above, from animals humanely killed for reptile feed.<br />
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The course took place in the stunning environs of St Barts Pathology Museum. Photographs of the surroundings aren't allowed as it holds medical specimens, but they regularly hold fascinating lectures in their rooms which look like something out of Sherlock Holmes and Hogwarts combined and I would highly recommend a trip if you get a chance.<br />
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Amanda and her equally brilliant assistant ably showed us the right way to skin our tiny charges, which is the most time-consuming part of the business. As we worked away with teeny tiny scalpels, any initial squeamishness soon dispersed and - believe it or not - it actually became rather enjoyable. I don't mean in a weird, psychopathic Ted Bundy sort of way, but in that oddly relaxing way that any delicate work requiring a lot of concentration can be. And when you think about it, it's really no different from skinning a rabbit in the kitchen, or even a chicken for Sunday lunch (for those raised in less rural climes!).<br />
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Once successfully peeled, we washed our tiny guinea pig rugs and left them to dry while we had lunch.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_ye2-wap8VI/UE4w94myqyI/AAAAAAAAA0I/Ybzgjelvdds/s1600/331451_10152117621165171_194118414_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_ye2-wap8VI/UE4w94myqyI/AAAAAAAAA0I/Ybzgjelvdds/s400/331451_10152117621165171_194118414_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weirdest. Lunchtime. Ever.<br />
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After lunch was time for stuffing - which involves wire and cotton wool. I shall leave it at that for those who might have got this far but still have a delicate disposition.<br />
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Once finished, we compared results.<br />
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Dear god.<br />
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I would like to say, in my defence, that I did not have great raw materials. I was concerned at first that, rather than being humanely killed, my particular rodent had in fact been steamrollered to death as he was somewhat battered. Turns out he was in fact probably squished in the freezer. Which also accounts for the freezer burn down one side of his face. Although I will put my hand up to the fact that it was probably my fault his foot fell off and had to be superglued back on.<br />
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I had created an abomination.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-9UDQ01eYM/UE4xveiIFsI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/DpdZkCRweMA/s1600/564695_10152117873835171_884491151_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-9UDQ01eYM/UE4xveiIFsI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/DpdZkCRweMA/s400/564695_10152117873835171_884491151_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is his GOOD side.</td></tr>
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When I brought Flat Stanley home ("pleasedontletmeleaveitonthebuspleasedontletmeleaveitonthebus") Significant Otter laughed at him for a good five minutes. This heartened me greatly as I had been expecting screams.<br />
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The next day I decided something had to be done. There were two options for dealing with this horrific creation. I could either burn it, then bury the ashes at a crossroads or make some sort of outfit to hide the worst bits. I wasn't entirely sure that it definitely wouldn't come back to life to haunt me after the burning and burying, so I went with the latter.<br />
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What sort of costume could Flat Stanley have that would hide his hideous disfigurements? I will admit I am rarely thankful to musical theatre for anything, but just this once, it had the answer.<br />
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I give you - Flat Stanley as The Phantom of The Opera.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bdff8GAYiqc/UE4zKihifNI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/QlUzrz3eBf4/s1600/579924_10152119911685171_1409090440_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bdff8GAYiqc/UE4zKihifNI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/QlUzrz3eBf4/s400/579924_10152119911685171_1409090440_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Listen to the music of the OHCHRISTWHATISTHATTHING??!"<br />
(Yeah, I know it also looks a bit Jedi-ish. Multi-purpose taxidermy)</td></tr>
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With his mask and tiny gondola-punting stick he has stopped giving me nightmares and is now allowed in the house. I have set Significant Otter to finding a bell jar to display him in. Turns out they are really expensive, but as I explained to him, you just can't put a price on this sort of family heirloom.<br />
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If you too are interested in the deconstruction and reconstruction of small furry animals, check out the Amanda's Autopsies <a href="http://www.amandasautopsies.com/?page_id=1215" target="_blank">website</a> for details of the next classes and also photos of past ones - including this weekend's. Flat Stanley is number 71 in the photo album. I'm going to use that picture for his Spotlight application.<br />
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Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-92114993739059601432012-09-03T13:53:00.000+01:002012-09-03T15:54:15.932+01:00It's NOT Spearmint, it's EAU DE NIL!!!About a month ago, Significant Otter and I helped a friend of ours move house. It was one of those slightly unorganised, chuck-everything-in-a-van-and-hope-for-the-best moves, where several bits of furniture that were deemed too bulky or knackered to survive were left behind to take their chances with the next occupants.<br />
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Among the newly-orphaned pieces was this chest of drawers:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cuGftstqTE0/UESfRwe6DfI/AAAAAAAAAro/9AHhJD3YdOk/s400/Before.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Save me", it seemed to cry.... </td></tr>
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Battered and bruised, it had loyally held the socks and pants of several studenty males over the years and deserved a dignified retirement.<br />
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So I decided that I would take it home and rehabilitate it.<br />
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"It'll be great!" I cried, lovingly stroking the cracked veneer and trying to avoid the suspicious stains, "I'll sand it all down and take off all the handles and fill in the holes and put new vintage ones on and paint it duck egg blue and use it to replace that IKEA thing in the bedroom"<br />
SO was not so sure. "You won't", he sighed, "you'll never get round to it and it'll sit in the house taking up space and bruising our shins until we wish we'd just left it here."<br />
"But it's SOLID WOOD", I declared, bringing out my trump card. If there's one thing I know about furniture (and there literally is only one thing, and this is it), it's that if it's solid wood you have to keep it and cherish it and never let it go because it might as well be made out of unicorn hair and fairy dust.<br />
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After a lot of eye-rolling SO decided that lugging this ridiculous thing down the stairs, emptying out a load of stuff that was already in the van to make space for it, then driving it round to our house and lugging it back up a load more stairs was going to be a lot less painful than arguing about it any more.<br />
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After a few weeks of its temporary internment in our kitchen, it became clear that SO's prediction was becoming horribly true, so after I had barked my shins on it for the 15468724th time I decided it was time to evict the cats from the drawers (they were very pleased with their new feline apartment building), and do something about it.<br />
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So, one trip to B&Q later, SO had an electric sander and I had a tin of the most middle-class paint I have ever bought - Laura Ashley Eggshell in Eau de Nil. We also had a ton of plastic sheeting, bought on my insistence after it became clear that SO was planning on using bedsheets as dust catchers ("It's ok, I'll wash them afterwards.")<br />
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SO erected a Murder Screen, which made the kitchen look like something out of Dexter:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dt4fq_Zb0Ls/UES-rpapBzI/AAAAAAAAAtE/CJpMT3YhiG8/s1600/Dexter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dt4fq_Zb0Ls/UES-rpapBzI/AAAAAAAAAtE/CJpMT3YhiG8/s400/Dexter.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SO - Not Doing A Murder</td></tr>
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....and he happily sanded away.<br />
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For about four hours.<br />
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While I filled in holes with wood filler and accidentally threw white spirit in the toaster. I was quite glad of the Murder Screen myself at that point, as SO didn't see my little accident. It brought the chrome up a treat.<br />
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Several hours (and one exploded sander), later, the chest of drawers was denuded and I was happy.<br />
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SO was not so much:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KGrNsFbpKxE/UES-st3MlPI/AAAAAAAAAtI/pFjqLYQ0F8c/s1600/Sandy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KGrNsFbpKxE/UES-st3MlPI/AAAAAAAAAtI/pFjqLYQ0F8c/s400/Sandy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unimpressed.</td></tr>
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Neither was the basil plant on the windowsill, which was COVERED in sawdust. As was the winerack, the sink, the radio, the dishwasher and everything else that was on the Murder Screen side of the kitchen. Planning. SO does not have it.<br />
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The rest of the process was easy-peasy (and therefore I did most of it). One coat of white undercoat/primer, two of the Posh Paint, and one of Matt Satin varnish. Top tip - make sure you get water-based eggshell emulsion - it washes off the floors. And the walls. And your hands. And your shoes. And the cat.<br />
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Then all it needed was some posh new knobs (arf), which we sourced from<a href="http://www.secretg.co.uk/" target="_blank"> http://www.secretg.co.uk/.</a> This mail-order shop is based in Wales, but when the handpainted ceramic drawerpulls (I'm saying drawerpulls because every time I write 'knob' I have to stop to snigger), arrived it turned out they were made by <a href="http://www.giselagraham.co.uk/" target="_blank">Gisela Graham</a> in SE17, so we had unwittingly supported a local company after all.<br />
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And here's the finished product:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYATnbT-LHw/UESlPbhzbeI/AAAAAAAAAsU/o2KzKLbHw-M/s1600/After+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RYATnbT-LHw/UESlPbhzbeI/AAAAAAAAAsU/o2KzKLbHw-M/s400/After+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Even SO admitted that it was worth all the hassle in the end. Despite his insitence that it came out 'looking all spearmint'. It's not spearmint, it's EAU DE NIL.<br />
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I'm really pleased with how it's turned out, and it is now in the bedroom lording it over all the inferior furniture. I want to paint the whole house to match.<br />
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I reckon it probably cost about £60, a lot of which was kn.....drawerpulls, which were £2.50 each. And posh paint. You could argue that I could have bought something brand new for that much, which wouldn't have (as I later discovered), slightly sticky drawers where I really should have sanded down the varnish, and which wouldn't have given SO the Black Lung after spending the best part of a weekend inhaling sawdust, but where would be the satisfaction in that?<br />
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In other, Lemur Lady news, check out my new large <a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/ourshop/cat_478615-Purses-and-Wallets.html" target="_blank">wallets</a>. Card pockets, a bit for change, and more space for gubbins than you can shake a stick at. More designs on the way!<br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-88576835619710395462012-07-02T12:05:00.003+01:002012-07-02T12:10:59.369+01:00This is why I'm skint<b>Conversation between me and Significant Otter, who doesn't understand finances.</b><br />
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ME: I have totally screwed up my money this month. You know when we bought the car? I put a £500 deposit down and they were supposed to refund it to my credit card. Turns out they didn't, they refunded it to my bank account.<br />
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SO: Well, that's OK, isn't it? You can just pay off the card from the bank account.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is actually why I'm poor </td></tr>
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ME: No, I can't. Because I didn't <b>know</b> that they had put it into my account so I spent it all already.<br />
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SO: £500? You had £500 go into your account and you didn't realise? What did you spend it on?<br />
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ME: Um. Tattoos, fast cars and gin.<br />
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SO: You're not even joking, are you?<br />
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ME: Nope. The car's not that fast though. So, the upshot is that I am now £500 poorer than I thought I was but it's OK because the car was a joint purchase so you owe me half of that, which is £250. When can I have the £250 you owe me?<br />
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SO: What? But they gave the money back. You never actually lost that money.<br />
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ME: <b>But I didn't know I had it</b>. So it's the same thing. So you owe me half of it because it's your car too. I can't believe you'd be so mean. I can't pay for everything in this relationship.<br />
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SO: This is how the banking crisis happened.<br />
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<b>(On the up side, my new tattoo is amazeballs. I will gaze lovingly at it while I am eating dust bunnies till next payday). </b><br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-32941874645513867132012-06-21T11:40:00.002+01:002012-06-21T11:43:30.240+01:00Make It Sew - the playsuit editionWhile it is terribly good fun being an Internationally Renowned Sewing Superstar (in my mind), there is a definite correlation between how many things I stitch to sell to happy customers and how little time I get to make anything for myself. I recently had to sheepishly buy a handbag from an actual high street shop (I know), and my resolution to stop buying clothes from Primarni that I could just as easily make for myself is resulting in a somewhat threadbare wardrobe.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hEir4yS1DB8/T-L1FJ_H_aI/AAAAAAAAAcw/nxZJwFPmSFw/s1600/6331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hEir4yS1DB8/T-L1FJ_H_aI/AAAAAAAAAcw/nxZJwFPmSFw/s320/6331.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at this smug young thing. Ugh.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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So I am especially grateful to the 'Make It Sew' group that have continued to meet up since our original 'Sewing Bee' that I <a href="http://knittingmyownyoghurt.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/whats-yellow-and-black-and-cant-reach.html" target="_blank">blogged about back in December</a> last year. With a capacity of 5 (the maximum amount of machines that one normal domestic living room and a baffling array of extension cables can host), we spend a happy day once every few months eating cake, drinking buckets of tea, and working on our own personal projects. For me, that means a ban on anything <a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/" target="_blank">Emporium</a>-related.<br />
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My chosen project last weekend was something for my summer wardrobe. Apparently there is a slim chance that the sunshine might return for a brief visit later in the year, and even if not I plan to chase it to France in July and pin it down for at least a few short sessions on the sunlounger. I had a whole load of fab hibiscus print fabric left over from when I had to buy two lots of it having left the first batch in a pub (long story), so I decided to make a 1950's style playsuit so I can catch some rays, Tiki style, while reclining elegantly under a wide-brimmed hat with a cocktail. Or at least some cheap pink French wine from a box.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJPbwWA4m7A/T-L2dlKQgKI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Cx7wnLalcos/s1600/Playsuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJPbwWA4m7A/T-L2dlKQgKI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Cx7wnLalcos/s400/Playsuit.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catalogue pose...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I used McCalls 6331 which is an easy-peasy pattern and one which I would highly recommend, despite the fact that the photos on the cover make it look like a Tampax advert. <br />
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It did turn out rather more obscenely short than I'd hoped, but since my intention is really to wear it as a more modest version of a swimsuit I shall grin and bear it. I think it would work in a variety of fabrics - I'd quite like to make a nautical version one day. <br />
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Incidentally I'd totally recommend this type of pattern for someone new to sewing. There are no fancy techniques, it comes in very few parts and goes together really quickly. Even I only had to put the zip in twice, which is a personal best.<br />
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Go on, have a go. It's not rocket science, you'll have created something totally unique to you, and you'll feel great when it's finished. Everyone's a winner. Apart from Primark - which is as it should be. <br />
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<br />Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-28359862860066799402012-06-06T16:48:00.000+01:002012-06-06T16:57:49.008+01:00I am too extremely very busy.This is a holding message. I am the busiest person in the world at the moment and consequently the worst blogger. Normal service (i.e. sporadic but not <i>completely</i> non-existent) will be resumed as soon as my friends stop all getting married and I stop all being in plays and all going to meetings and all hoovering the sofa (which takes up a great deal of my time due to the fact that my cats have taken the slight increase in ambient temperature in Southern England very seriously and turned into dandelion clocks who can seemingly release a cloud of fluff at will like some sort of defence mechanism, sort of how a lizard sheds its tail when you pull it).<br />
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In the meantime, you could do worse than popping over to the slightly-mad-in-a-good-way Fiona T's blog <a href="http://www.wordsfromfionasbrain.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Words From Fiona's Brain</a> for your fix of blogginess. She has recently baked scones AND catalogued her socks. Just make sure you pop back here to calm down when the excitement has become too much for you.<br />
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If you're in need of a quicker hit of internet smack, here is a picture of Doug being a retard.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We worry, but the vet says he's normal.</td></tr>
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Or if you're <i>really</i> bored you could even go and buy something over at the <a href="http://lemurlady.co.uk/" target="_blank">Lemur Lady</a> shop. Like this cute mirror with frogs on....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of these are princes. The others haven't been kissed yet.</td></tr>
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Back soon (ish).<br />
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</div>Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-26856156970933493182012-05-25T23:32:00.000+01:002012-05-25T23:34:44.655+01:00Road Trip! Part 1: San Francisco - Crescent CityAs promised, here is the first instalment of my Great Big Adventure diaries. I have spent some time squinting at all the pieces of paper I scribbled notes on, and have decided that the best option is just to try and replicate them here, as best I can, for posterity. I will attempt to make some sense of them as I go along.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Error. Massive error.</td></tr>
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So. We began in San Francisco. Well, technically, the adventure began at Heathrow Airport, where we boarded the plane in great excitement. Within 37 seconds (a personal best), I had managed to change all of my seatback entertainment controls to Japanese and had to make SO fix it for me. I then watched 4364623423 films, including War Horse, which was rubbish.<br />
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My notes for San Francisco read as follows:<br />
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<li>Mechanical Monkey Band</li>
<li>Terrifying laughing Sally thing </li>
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Both of the above are from our trip to the '<a href="http://www.museemechanique.org/" target="_blank">Musee Mechanique</a>', a truly fabulous rainy-day outing of a place featuring a collection of antique coin-operated machines. Many of them utterly terrifying, such as the giant Laughing Sally puppet mentioned above. If you click on the link (which I wouldn't advise), you will be treated to a glimpse of her which will ensure you don't sleep for a week. The Mechanical Monkey Band, however, remains one of the best things I saw all holiday. Or ever.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best. Game. Ever.</td></tr>
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<li>Deathstar <i>(Star Wars Arcade Game. See above)</i></li>
<li>Clam chowder</li>
<li>Cablecar <i>(obviously)</i></li>
<li>Pirate Shop</li>
<li>Baboon with wings</li>
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The pirate shop refers to <a href="http://826valencia.org/store/" target="_blank">826 Valencia</a> - San Francisco's only independent pirate store. It is exactly as brilliant as it sounds. The last point refers to the shop next door to this, which stocked the most incredible array of bizarre taxidermied animals I have ever seen. It was purely import laws and luggage allowance which stopped us from spending the rest of the trip carting around a full-sized angry baboon with peacock wings grafted onto its back. Because I don't have enough of those.</div>
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<li>Aquarium with chinchillas.</li>
<li>Hotel smells of chinese soup.</li>
<li>Scary Christmas shop <i>(SO insisted we buy cable car Christmas tree decorations. Sometimes I worry, I really do).</i></li>
<li>TERRIFYING CAR DRIVING HILL ARRRRRRGGGGHHHH</li>
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This last point is written in SO's writing. Due to the fact that I went down with the Worst Cold Ever as soon as we landed and was basically flu-ridden for the first week, SO was designated driver in San Francisco. You've seen Bullet, right? It's just like that in real life. Only scarier and with more screaming.</div>
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<li>Hat shop (didn't go in)</li>
<li>EPIC hat shop (hat regret).</li>
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The hat regret was because - for reasons I can only attribute to temporary insanity brought on by an overdose of cough medicine - I decided against buying this:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm choking up a bit now, just thinking about what might have been</td></tr>
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Man I loved that winged horse hat. *sigh*<br />
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After San Francisco, we followed the Redwood Trail north along the Pacific Coast and through endless forests of ENORMOUS trees. The minutes of this journey look like this:<br />
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<li>Many big trees.</li>
<li>Bendy roads.</li>
<li>Smoke in trees.</li>
<li>Bored of trees.</li>
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Occasionally they are punctuated with moments of excitement, such as:</div>
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<li>Elk.</li>
<li>Gualalalalalalaalala <i>(I think this was the name of a town we stopped in to buy crisps. I can't be sure)</i></li>
<li>Drove through a tree!!!!! </li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-30akslp2SoQ/T8AEbUj3KQI/AAAAAAAAAbM/ozuTLo8Y0VM/s1600/578081_10150793472655915_605990914_12054413_1959290869_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-30akslp2SoQ/T8AEbUj3KQI/AAAAAAAAAbM/ozuTLo8Y0VM/s320/578081_10150793472655915_605990914_12054413_1959290869_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Drive-through tree.</td></tr>
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The rest of this page of notes is one big scribble, pertaining to the fact that SO walked into a glass door and that this was 'my favourite thing so far, better than the Monkey Orchestra'.</div>
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I leave this instalment with a picture of our view from the <a href="http://www.crescentbeachmotel.com/" target="_blank">Crescent Beach Motel</a> window. The Pacific is beautiful to look at, but bugger me it's noisy to sleep next to.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Ocean - a noisy neighbour</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-71334933511742425042012-05-16T21:01:00.000+01:002012-05-16T21:01:34.925+01:00Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...Crumbs - I've been away from this place so long Blogger has completely changed its interface since I was last here. Apologies if this turns out upside down, or bright pink, or accidentally in Comic Sans or something... [EDIT: I just previewed this post and it genuinely had turned my template into Comic Sans. I nearly had a conniption]<div>
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Anyway, the main reason why I've not been boring you with my exploits recently is that I have been on a Great Big Adventure. Having got married last year, the Significant Otter and I decided that for our Honeymoon we would take a real trip of a lifetime and do a road trip around Mid-West America, seeing places we've never seen, seeking out new life and new civilisations, boldly going...no, hang on, that's Star Trek. Well, you get the picture.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aw, the route looks a bit like a heart. I did not notice this, but this is because I have no romance in my soul.</td></tr>
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We knew we wanted to start in San Francisco then visit Portland, Oregon (mostly for the beer), before striking out East towards South Dakota so that we could go and be sweary in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0348914/" target="_blank">Deadwood</a> before heading down to Colorado and flying back from there to Los Angeles at the very end. We booked nothing but the car hire, our flights there and back, and the first night's accommodation. Oh, and a cocktail bar for the first evening in San Francisco. Because thirst is a dangerous thing.</div>
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What followed was three of the most amazing, fullest, busiest, most exhausting but wonderful weeks of my life. My intention to document all this in the form of a mobile blog as we went along failed almost immediately, mostly because a) I couldn't type in the car because I'd be sick and b) I'm very lazy. Instead, every night at whatever dodgy motel, diner or saloon we found ourselves in I would fish out of my bag some stolen hotel paper and a stolen hotel pen and we would write a bullet-point retrospective of the highlights of our day. I am going to use these beer-stained, garbled, badly spelled notes as the basis of my attempt to record our Great Big Adventure for posterity. </div>
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Bear in mind we did go through eight different states, three different timezones, and drank our bodyweights in strangely-named American micro-brewed beers with pictures of wildlife on the bottle, so I'm not going to try and recount everything in one go. These posts may be sporadic, but I promise I will get there in the end!</div>
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A few statistics to start us off:</div>
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States we travelled through: California, Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, South Dakota, Nebraska, Colorado.</div>
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Miles driven: 3349</div>
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Number of different hotel/motel rooms stayed in: 17. I think. Might have to come back to that one.</div>
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Amount of toiletries stolen: lots.</div>
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Local wildlife accidentally killed: almost one duck.</div>
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Horrible colds caught within hours of landing: 1</div>
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Acceptable cups of tea: One. On the last day.</div>
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I will be back with an account of our first week, which took us from San Francisco to Portland. But for now, here's a picture of me pointing at a buffalo. You're welcome. </div>
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<br /></div>Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692149357261326973.post-49259034260199264022012-03-30T15:24:00.001+01:002012-03-30T15:27:41.829+01:00And this is how we spend our eveningsSitting watching TV with Significant Otter last night, commercial break comes on.<br />
<br />
LL: OHMYGODDIDYOUSEETHAT????!!!!<br />
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SO: What?<br />
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LL: There was just an advert for a bed and the bed had a TV that went up and down into the end of the bed! <i>[attempts to mime a TV going up and down into the end of a bed. This is harder than it sounds] </i>And it was only EIGHT HUNDRED POUNDS!!! That's, like, how much a TV costs on it's own, plus you get a <i>free bed</i>!! IT'S LIKE A BED FROM THE FUTURE!!!<br />
<br />
SO: Firstly, there is so much wrong with how you judge the value of things. And secondly those beds-with-<br />
TV's-in have been around for ages. I've seen them in shops. I've even played with the buttons that make the TV's go up and down.<br />
<br />
LL: <i>[looks at SO like he's just admitted to having had a pair of Marty Mc Fly hover-trainers for the last six months and kept it a secret] </i>So TellyBeds are, like, a Thing? You've known about these magical things?<br />
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SO: Yes.<br />
<br />
LL: And we still don't have one?<br />
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SO: We don't watch TV in bed.<br />
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LL: That's because we don't have a TellyBed. We've just got a boring, ordinary bed. I hate our bed. It's got no technology in it at all. It's not digitally entertaining in any way.<br />
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SO: <i>[with a cheesy wink]</i> The analogue entertainment is good though.<br />
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LL: <i>[choosing to ignore this terrible attempt at innuendo]</i> I bet EVERYONE else has a Tellybed except us. This is so embarrassing. This is like being the last people to have a VHS player. We have a Betamax bed.<br />
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SO: I'm really not sure they're as popular as....<br />
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LL: Of course everyone has one! They're only EIGHT HUNDRED POUNDS. <i>[taps on website on phone] </i><i style="text-decoration: underline;"> </i>I can probably get one with Paypal right now...<br />
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SO: We are not buying a bed with a TV in it.<br />
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<i>Silence.</i><br />
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</i><br />
LL: If we had a telly bed you could sit in it all day and play Skyrim.<br />
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SO: And you could bring me snacks and beer and bottles to pee in?<br />
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LL: If it meant we could have a technologically advanced televisual bed from the future, yes. I would do that.<br />
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I'm still not sure if I won. But I'm not letting this one go.....Lemur Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16003324300586512236noreply@blogger.com1