My Illustrative Life

If you ever need to make a bonfire (allotment? garden? campfire? very very lost in the huge enormous woods?) and you have a pile of wood and scrub and such, don’t light it until you’ve moved the entire pile from where you found it. Or else you might end up burning hedgehogs to death.

(this isn’t a good fire, because I realised most of the stuff to burn was still damp from yesterday’s rain and stopped stacking.)

If you do have an allotment or a garden , it probably won’t be that long before you gain your very own friend robin. My grandpa’s perches on his spade handle, but I don’t know this one all that well just yet..

If you have brooches or pin badges that you like, or have a penchant for safety pins (me too!), then the turn from cold spring to warm spring can be prettied up like so. If you need underskirts but don’t need ALL the warmth they give you, pin the over-layer and feel somewhere between Belle and a Vermeer subject. Or use two pins, one on either side or your rear, and make the overskirt a gathered bustle! SO SIMPLE.

Final bonus: a properly photographed version of my lino cut from yesterday’s post. Want lino cutting done? I can (probably) do it! I just can’t do the printing for you, as yet.

Yesterday my mum and my sister and I visited my Great Aunt, who lives a fair way away in (my ancestral) Coventry, and took her to Coombe Abbey. Coombe Abbey, if you haven’t been, is awesome.

I haven’t taken any pictures of one reason it was so awesome, because that is probably illegal - there were tons and tons of kids there. Loads. I know it’s half term and all, but it was a joy to see youngins running about yelling at ducks, enjoying forest pathways, climbing banks, shouting “I AM THE TALKING BUSH” and shaking branches from inside evergreens which branch from ground-level, walking dogs, and QUITE CLEARLY being on dates. Too cute. If you are ever thinking, “oh alas children do not like nature any more, only wii, how sad!”, you should go to Coombe Abbey (at half term).

It has buildings, and grounds (lots), and just about every type of country landscape you could ask for. There’s a pond at the front of (what I think is) the hotel that has a sort of aqueduct non-bridge pathway across it; on one side it’s nature free and wobbly and undergrowth, on the other it’s nurture - angular and groomed, statues in the water, box-shaped box hedges.

There are paths to follow in various directions, which managed to turn me completely around and take me by surprise. I thought I’d reached a new building, but it was the one we started at. Cunning! The whole place has a sense of mystery though, the way it’s lain out - there’s always something just visible through or past or behind what you’re looking at.

The grounds were really, really pretty. These don’t do them justice because I am not a good photographer (and the camera I was borrowing is kind of weird and colour-bleaching/non-focusable).

Coombe Abbey also contains the spookiest tree-bourne sculpture I have ever seen. The black dog in this picture was being called forcefully by its owners, but I was willing it to stay in the frame long enough for the darn picture to take..

Seriously, is that supposed to be.. what is that supposed to be??

What’s a day out without a fitting outfit? NOTHING, THAT is what!! In a moment of great serendipity, my super-fantastic dreamskirt from Modelle - via the NASTY GAL sale - arrived that morning..

I was sure I would be able to see my own foot through the trunk’s various holes if only I stretched far enough..

I couldn’t.

BONUS: Me totally failing to replicate the awesome height achieved by my first run-up, which my fool sister MISSED CURSE HER.

And with that, I’ll go back where I came from.

Has anyone else noticed that all the Valentines-themed window displays this year are red (with silver or black accoutrements)? Red to hot pink, at least. Where is all the marshmallowy pink, the fluffy powder colours, the teddy bears swearing eternal affection? Everwhere I looked, in town yesterday, there were red satin undergarments with the spindliest of garter belts (they won’t work, don’t you want your sexy to be practical too?), and shiny metallic balloons.

I did consider that it was a display of solidarity with China, any British-Chinese or visiting tourists, Chinese New Year falling today also. Red being an important related colour. But there wasn’t any gold involved, and besides - shop windows don’t tend to be that inclusive.

I hope you’re having a fine day, whatever you’re celebrating or whatever you aren’t. I do think it’s a shame when people are vitriolic against Saint Valentine’s Day, because being martyred because you refused to disallow soldiers to marry is pretty bloody admirable if you ask me. And technically, by visiting my blog, you did. Ha-HAH! I think it’s a day to celebrate, unless you prefer to make it a day for activism - St. V died for the cause of marriage for a portion of the population who higher-ups felt shouldn’t be allowed it. Who knows what his views on homosexuality would be, but luckily for us (and the whole point of this is that) he’s dead - so he can’t complain if we use his Day to say “Hey, Governments - Let Your People Marry”.

I was unconsciously mirroring the red red world, when I ventured out into it to search out records with my newly-drivers’-liscenced sister. My reds were deeper though, because straight-up primary colours make me look startled. And besides, I like the mystery of a slightly dirty hue.

I couldn’t physically be with my beloved for Valentine’s Day - actually, we’ve never been together on The Day (don’t worry! It’s never mattered, either) - and I’m not near any New Year celebrations as I thought I would be so I’m here typing.. Able to say that if you are feeling blue (and so quite out of place) then all you need to do is put on some dreamin’ gear and use that in-head laptop we call ‘imagination’ to fly you to where and with whom you really want to be. Look, I’ll show you:

Oh - and I beg your pardon, happy New Year to China, and anyone who celebrates!

You may or may not know, my little (though actually bigger than me) sister is in a band. They do some of their own songs, and cover a bunch of songs in the Queen/The Who vein. I am very proud of her. But because of that, the fact that she can’t drive by herself yet, and the fact that her exams are over for now my family took a daytrip to the town where they’re playing tonight. Let’s explore Moreton in Marsh!

This first thing deserves a paragraph of its own - I walked around a tiny park, and the tiny park had no, I repeat no crisp packets outside of the bin. Say it with me: LET’S KEEP BRITAIN TIDY!

Moreton in Marsh is one of those confectionary towns. It’s “the gateway to the Cotswolds”; the main streets are just picturesque, all big blocks of sandstone, heavy doors (some giant, some tiny), great large windows on antique shops and gift shows and tea shops.

Speaking of tea shops. We ate lunch in The Marshmallow(where I got to read about four more pages of TG:Armadillo). I’d been pulling for Thai, but Dad pointed out that this Marshmallow had been honoured by UK Tea Council multiple times. And I do love a good cuppa. One of the Christmas presents I asked for - and received! Hurray! - was a subscription to the Twinings Tea of the Month club! I drank a pot of “Kenyan” (or.. was it “Kenya”?), because the menu described it as colourful. It was tasty, but it paled, actually, when lunch proper arrived. Cottage pie. Creamed mashed potato. Perfectly cooked vegetables. The end of my Mum’s beef casserole with cobbler. A fair bit of my sister’s portion of veg. A taste of my Dad’s liver and onions. I swear, I coulda kept going and going.

Would you like a loyalty card?
Dad says no. Of course. What do I say? Oh come on, you can guess.

I also enjoyed the wallpaper in the hotel the band’s (I did their logo!) playing at.

I felt just about right in what I was wearing, situationally (sweaterdresses + antiques = Just Right), but I think I’m gonna sew buttons around the inside of the hem and around the lower half of the neckline. I feel OK with a shorter skirt and a high neck, or a lower neckline and a longer skirt, but short and low (I know it’s not extreme. But it is for me! Especially with this long jacket warping perception) makes me feel a bit flashy. Dickies and faux-slips, from now on!

I took some video on the way home. The light was so beautiful, and the countryside really should be seen and appreciated! Good editing practice, too. Which reminds me! Can I get some volunteers to give me constructive criticism on a video? It would be really, really useful!

I’m still adding the new comments format! But I’ve figured out a way to keep them off the front page. Click the title, or normal “comment” button, and see!

I had a sort of a job interview thing, today. Does it count if it is for a volunteer position? One day a week YES I SAY THAT IT DOES. So I wore my “I’m not asking you to look at me but I am still myself” fallback combo; sweater, wool skirt, dark lace tights. I might still fit in at a WW2 french resistance reenactment, but I don’t look like someone one might be nervous of working with. Hopefully. Well even apparently, because I am now an Assistant Appreciator! Hurrah! I cannot get over that title.

When I bought it this jacket was clearly a fixer-upper. I’ve mentioned I think that it was a third off because two seams had already given - I decided it was worth it, because trading a heck of a lot of patching for the awful, awful, hair-ripping experience that I KNOW sewing this fabric from scratch would be.

But! There are already three more holes to plug! One in the left sleeve in the crook of my elbow, two on the left-back seam. I appreciate the opportunity to finally place the beautiful silky patches I traded with my Japanese peers when I was eleven (Arden ‘98 International Guide Campers, represent!) and like I said I was wearing no rosy lenses when I bought it but honestly, Topshop? Bad form.

Bonus images!!!! Me tipping organic kitchen waste onto our compost heap! Dropping two boxes all over my feet! Pretending a cat did it! Don’t read this, Dad!

P.S. detail from yesterday: I take a joy in buying expensive clothes at discount prices and then wearing them until they get crunky and bobbled and holey like REAL CLOTHES.

We were playing Dynasty Warriors. Hence eyebeam of CONCENTRATION!

HMMMMNNN Amy and
Temporary Secretary have let me know via twitter that they’re having troubles with - by which I mean, finding it impossible to be - leaving comments here. I really have no idea how to fix this!

So I’m asking two things: 1) can anyone give me any answers? and 2) If you try to leave a comment and it doesn’t work, PLEASE let me know! You can get to me on twitter (Illusclaire) or email claire [at] illustratorclaire.co.uk. I want people to be able to tell me I’m wrong about things, or more importantly how RIGHT I am.