My first contribution to the Month of Softies project. I had grand plans, but, you know, February is the shortest month. I would show you Alice, but the sight of her dismembered, unclothed body would bring the site from PG to M rating. Hopefully I'll finish her soon. Both Alice (not pictured) and the Cat are based on a pattern by elinor peace bailey.
Abbey has definitely crossed the line from Baby to Toddler. Anyone who can follow the actions on Playschool (...put your finger on your nose, on your nose...) deserves a new title. Speaking of which, this afternooon's program was brilliant! Not only did they bring a real live car into the studio, but Justine - my very favourite Playschool presenter since John Hamblin - opened the bonnet and checked the dipstick, pointed out the radiator and showed how the convertible's roof is stored in the boot. So cool.
Anyway, to celebrate new found toddlerhood I made playdough and then spent 20 minutes trying to convince Abbey it was not a good thing to eat. But poking it is fun.
Finally today we were stood up on a playdate at Amber's Playhouse. There are worse places to be deserted I guess. Abbey had loads of fun on the bouncy castle and in the ballpit. I'm afraid I became bored beyond all comprehension after nearly an hour. Some company next time, please!
And now to find something to do that isn't parenting related...
Please help support our various addictions. (Coffee, books, soft toys and board games at last check.)
More designs forthcoming. Promise.
Well, yeah, okay. But where's Zaphod's other head?
China Mieville's list of Fifty Fantasy & Science Fiction Works That Socialists Should Read seems as good a launching place as any. The never ending quest to become familiar with genre fiction (in accordance with Orson Scott Card's advice) is somewhat intimidating. So - new project! But no deadline on this one.
Edit to add: Here's a short hand version of the list with those I have read in bold all meme-like.
This is the size of the huntsman that climbed out of the boot the other day. (Artist's impression.)
A linguistics lecturer was explaining double negatives to his students, and he told them, "In English a double negative always means a positive, but there is no case where a double positive means a negative."
A voice from the back of the room said, "Yeah, right."
(Ruthlessly nicked from 'Needs a good edit', Write On, Feb 2005, the newsletter of the Victorian Writers' Centre.)
I'm trying to figure out why I'm not doing anything, and I can't. And not just at the moment; it's a long-running theme. True, I am recovering from a painful back injury, but I seem to be making excuses for all sorts of crap at the moment.
TV. There's a lot of not-bad tv on, especially compared to last year. But does this mean I have to watch it all?
There are projects I have commited to. Ones which have deadlines and other people - lonely, housebound people - relying on me. Yet I decide to knit a hat. A woolly earflaps hat. In the middle of summer. (Not that you can tell for all the cold and rain.)
The house is embarrassingly dirty. It's bordering on unhygenic. But weblogs. WEBLOGS, people!
I also choose to blame libraries, food, Abbey's toys, comic book stores, new CDs, and DVD rental offers that arrive in the mailbox marked "No Junk Mail".
Responsibility? What is this responsibility you speak of?
Happy Birthday to me,
Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Birthday dear me-ee,
Happy Birthday to me.