You can't win them all

My bread book is very insistent that unbleached plain flour (not bread, just plain old plain flour) is used.  I wasn't sure whether my wonderful el cheapo Aldi floor was unbleached, so I bought some organic flour from the health food shop.  Twice the price for half as much and the results today have been, quite frankly, disappointing.  I've made two loaves that even though they were baked in a tin, look more like ciabatta (still taste great though) and have had a disastrous attempt at pitta breads.

I'm going back to Aldi tomorrow, especially as I've since found out that all UK sold flour is unbleached

Bread Mania

I found a really good deal with The Book People on a book I'd been considering for ages - Five Minute Bread.  The idea is that you make up a huge batch of sloppy dough that you keep in the fridge and then use portions as you wish.  The results have been fantastic so far so my Facebook has been full of what one friend described as food porn.  Like these

I am very pleased with the results so far as everything tastes even better than it looks

An Adventure

I've had a bit of an adventure today. Over the past 18 months/2 years I've had a lump grow at the back of my head.

Be warned, the rest of this post is not particuarly graphic, but if you're anyway squeamish, best not to read on!

Initially the nurse at my local practice dismissed it as being just the shape of my head. As if I didn't know what my own head felt like!  The lump kept growing though, so after having to see two doctors (the first was young and needed a second opinion for her comfort I think) I was finally scheduled for surgery.  No hospital visit needed though as my village surgery is set up for minor ops - how wonderful is that?!

I signed the consent form and was told to sit on the couch with my back to the room.  A little bit of my hair was cut so the doctor could get to the lump and the rest was kept out of the way with K Y Jelly of all things.  The nurse stood poised and then came the sting of the local anaesthetic being injected as a ring around the lump. It hurt like a bitch but when it started to work, it felt like I had a weight on there

As soon as I was numb, the doctor cut. The sound was amazing - exactly like sharp dressmaking shears cutting through silk.  I was a bit distracted soon though as there was so much blood it was pouring down my cleavage.  So glad I thought to wear old clothes.  I chatted with the doc all the way through and at this point he told me I was bleeding like a stuck pig. I started to feel a bit woozy so they laid me down and for the rest of the op I had my face stuffed in the pillow.  The doc told me that I didn't have a cyst but a lipoma - Latin for a fatty lump.  He cut it out, explained a lot about how to tie off a bleeder and how it wouldn't be cancerous but could come back.  There was some kind of to do about what silk to stitch me with and something not working but once the strongest silk was used, all was sorted.  As the nurse stated to clean me up, I got the doc to show me what he'd cut out.  Two lumps of knobbly looking fat.  Lovely.

I had to make a follow up appointment for the stitches to be removed, so I stood in the waiting room, blood matted wound for all to see, until the receptionist dealt with me.

I've been resting at home ever since, avoiding looking at let alone touching anywhere near my wound.  I don't even know how many stitches there are in there.  The anaesthetic still hasn't worn off so I'm not sure how sore I'm going to be or how I will sleep. I do know I'm going to look a state as I'm not allowed to get it wet until Monday - how delightful that cocktail of blood and ky is going to be by then.

This has taken me all day to write - effects of the whole thing maybe?

I just can't damn well resist

I love charity shops.  You never know what you will find, if anything.  So, after adding to government statistics at lunch time, I stopped off at a post office and popped next door to what my kids call 'The Funny Shop'.

Now, the last time I was in there I asked to see the knitting needles, only to be told that they’d thrown them all away as no one but me asks to see that particular drawer (hidden away in their beautiful haberdasher’s cabinet).  I persisted though as I could see the drawer, then suggested that she let me have everything in there for £5 as there were at least a few things I wanted (I couldn't bear the thought of them going to landfill). DH and I spent an hour matching up needles and sizing everything using the vintage gauge that was in with everything

Today, I could see that the drawer had been filling up again.  I swear, it's my version of crack cocaine,  So, after raking though, I returned home with not quite as bargainous a set of items, but still:

This contains a thread colourway that would not be allowed today - Romany Brown.  Almost as disturbing as the N-word brown crayon that I remember using at my grandparents

I never knew that you could get cotton napkins on a roll!

Parting is such sweet sorrow

As much as it pains me to the heart, I've got to face facts.  I have a whole room full of craft stuff that I'm just not using.  I could do with the space and I could definitely do with any money that could come through selling it all (due to the lack of job at the moment)

My questions to you all then are:

is there anywhere other than E Bay?

do craft items sell there, on folksy or etsy?

do you know anyone who would like to buy the contents of a craft room?
example photos below

and open to give an idea of the treasures within

and another lovely

and a set of shelves groaning with stuff

There is so much stuff. and I haven't even started on the books

Move on

Move on by artygal on Polyvore

Playing around with soulcollage and Polyvore again

It's all good

At home in between contracts again, but life is good

I went to the fabulous Fibre East festival last weekend and lovingly stroked a vintage row counter, just what I'd been looking for, but not at the price they were asking (well over £25).

Today I took my two to my mum's and went round every charity shop in her town, asking to see the knitting goodies hidden under the counter.  There were many, many needles, a few gauges, surprisingly few crochet hooks and wool was like rocking horse droppings. I didn't get to see any patterns (I need more of them like I need an extra foot) as another woman was doing the rounds and scouring the pattern folders. In the very last shop, they have a vintage section upstairs and there, shining out at me, was the very thing I've been looking for and less than a fifth of the festival price.  I've not got a photo yet, but it was very like this one, but without the needle sizer down the side.


I drove all the way home feeling happy!