Popcorn and cranberry garlands ...

Gosh it's been busy over here at Talk-a-Lot Towers.

We had a trampoline party for Emi's birthday on Saturday. I can't believe that my baby is about to have his first double digits birthday - 10! Whaow!

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. Emi's birthday is Friday and Mr B's the following Thursday. Everything seems to happen in December. The rest of the year is a little bit dull by comparison.

But somehow amidst all the other stuff that was going on I've got the tree up, decorated and illuminated with Ms. Angel on top. Emi has named her Annabeth. Not sure where that comes from, but we'll go with it for now.

By way of extra garlanding Emi and I spent a merry hour last night threading popcorn and cranberries onto a length of twine to add the finishing touch. The Wonder Dog is very keen on popcorn - so it's fifty/fifty whether this genius touch will actually last until Christmas.

If you want to make a garland like this for your own tree it's super easy-peasy. All you need to do is air-pop the popcorn so that it's not greasy. I do this in the microwave in a brown paper bag. Toss the corn in, zap it on high for a minute and a half - or until all the popping stops. Leave it overnight to sit in its bag so that it's not so brittle when you thread it. If it's fresh it'll be very crumbly, and you'll be busy with the hoover when you're done.

Cosy times ...

May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night and the road downhill all the way to your door,  runs a traditional Irish blessing that resonates with me on cosy nights at home.

When the world outside is cold and grey and dreary it's lovely to have the lights of Christmas inside to keep us going.  And I guess that need for light and warmth in the middle of the Northern hemisphere’s winter is pretty universal. In some small part it may explain why we embrace festivals like Hanukkah, Diwali and Christmas, all celebrating light and life and hope in midwinter.

Over here at Talk-a-Lot Towers we’re pretty expert at the fine art of chill-axing and letting the weather do its worst outside, but if I were to judge which of us truly excelled at taking life easy, the prize would undoubtedly have to go to … <drum roll> ... the Wonder Dog.

These days he always bags the best spot on the sofa in front of the fire, where he luxuriates in the warmth, stretching out to his full (not very extensive) length and snoring loudly. You could be forgiven for mistaking him for one of my woolly creations - a schnauzer-shaped cushion, perhaps. Moreover he never sees any reason why he ought to move out of that prime spot when anyone else wants to sit down, which often results in people sitting on him. Still he could teach us all a thing or two about our priorities: enough food, our loved ones around us and a warm bed to sleep in, what else do we really need?

All the best for now,

Bonny x

Christmas trees ... plastic or real, cut or growing ... ?

I've gone down the plastic tree route before, but I've never really liked the finished look. It's always been a bit ... well, synthetic,  and it's never provided that wonderful pine-fresh, straight-from-the-forest smell that's so much a part of the Christmas tree experience.

Yesterday the Wonder Dog and I dragged this year's Christmas tree home. It's not a huge tree as we don't have a huge amount of space in the cosy sitting room for which it's destined, but it's a living tree with its root system still connected. And the big idea is to take it outside after Christmas and plant it in the garden, where it will hopefully grow and prosper until its services are required again next Christmas.

Last year I bought a small potted tree for the kitchen. <We spend 90% of our waking hours in the kitchen so it would be madness not to make it look festive too.> The little tree grew happily in its hessian sack/ pot until after New Year, whereupon I planted it in a great big pot outside. It added a little bit of structural shape to my patio, contrasting nicely with the crazy sprawl of the geraniums and the fan-like swell of the cordylines. I put plenty of water-retaining humus in the soil and made a big effort to not let it dry out over the summer months, and here it is today, all ready to come back into the kitchen again and help us celebrate Christmas. I'll pot it down into a smaller pot as the Leviathan that it's living in now would never fit into the niche from which it has to spread its festive cheer.

Last year I had minimal needle drop from my growing tree. Whereas when I've had a cut tree - even with watering it occasionally - I've had a covering of pine needles on the carpet that's needed regular hoovering to keep things ship-shape. I've also found it easier to water a real tree than a cut one. The soil absorbs the water whereas I've had more spillage when there's only a reservoir in a dark corner at an awkward angle to pour the water into.

And then finally in those dull, grey days when all the holidays are over and you've got nothing to look forward to - other than going back to work - you don't have the hassle of dragging your tree out to be dumped and chipped with all the other trees. That task, always symbolic of the good times ending, is substituted instead with planting your tree in the garden. And that sort of thing always gets me in a positive let's get gardening it's almost springtime frame of mind, which is so much happier.

If you are minded to go down the growing tree route, think carefully about the size. If you want your tree to last for a few years it's best not to get a real whopper at the get-go. Conifers grow quickly and you'll soon find yourself scaled up to something unmanageable. Think also about handling. I've chosen a Nordman Fir, which has soft, dark green needles that won't jag the good-humour out of me when I have to replant it, and will also look rather splendid when contrasted against the other foliage outside.

All the best for now,


Bonny x

Happiness is ...

... having a Great Spotted Woodpecker as a neighbour. He totally floats my boat.

Isn't he amazing?

He's a timid soul, clutching the branches of the trees in a Gollum-like fashion, and peering carefully around them to make sure the coast is clear before he ventures out to help himself at the feeders.

Happiness is ...

... finding a hoard of old bakelite knitting needles going for a song in a second-hand shop.

The other morning, as I was racing to the station, something caught my eye in one of the charity shop windows. I was late (as usual) and in a terrible rush, so I couldn't stop for a better look, but I kept thinking about it all day, hoping that it would still be there at home-time.

And happily it was: a consignment of old knitting needles. There are loads of brightly coloured bakelite needles from the '40's and 50's that lift my spirits every time I look at them. In fact I thought they were so wonderful I put them in a flower jug and displayed them on a side table.

My son, Emi, (age 9) was not impressed when he came home from school.

Weird, Mum. They look a bit weird like that. Maybe you could find a nice box for them somewhere, he said in that slightly superior tone he uses when he thinks his mum's barmy.

Well, I don't care what other people think. I think it was a tenner wisely spent and I'm very happy with my hoard displayed as though it were a bunch of exotic blossoms in my favourite vase.

Here's to the small victories and commonplace trophies that make our hearts sing!

All the best for now,


Bonny x

Happiness is ...

... seeing these little guys breakfasting just outside my kitchen window: a charm  of goldfinches enjoying a niger seed banquet.

Even though the London weather is grey and dismal they've brought a little sunshine into my morning.

Hope you're finding inspiration in whatever you're doing today.

All the best for now,

Bonny x

Happiness is ...

... when you finally understand how your pattern works without having to squint at the chart ... .

Today I'm working on some Aran. It's been a while since I've knit Aran, and I'm enjoying how the whole thing ties together. It feels very organic in its construction. I prefer not to use traditional Aran weight wool. It's just too bulky for comfort. I can understand how marvellous it must have been for the fishermen and the farmers working the land on the Aran Islands with the Atlantic winds buffeting them 360 days a year, but for us urbanites with our central heating and feather-down winter coats they're a bit too heavy. I prefer to use double knitting yarn. It takes more stitches and rows and, hence, more work, but the end result just seems to work better.

I may also be historically more accurate in that preference than if I were using the Aran wool that's marketed for Aran knitting. For centuries the people on the islands have been knitting the Geansaí Árann, a gansey jumper with many of the cables and diamond patterns used in modern Aran knitting, but they used different construction methods and a finer wool. Aran knitting, as we know it today, was largely the creation of an entrepreneurial group of island women who set about knitting jumpers for sale to supplement their family income in the late nineteenth/ early twentieth century. Now as we all know knitting a jumper, especially an Aran one with all its intricacy of design, is a time-consuming business. And, if you're treating your jumpers as commodities for sale, time is clearly money. So they hit upon the brilliant wheeze of simplifying the construction techniques and using a much thicker wool that would knit up quickly, enabling them to produce more jumpers and up their earnings in the process. Thus the modern Aran jumper was born in a flourish of female innovation.

And I've been innovating a teeny bit myself. How do you like my sparkly Aran? It looks better in person, but this wool is really difficult to capture. Maybe it's something to do with the light, courtesy of our miserable grey London weather. No wonder I'm reaching for a dash of sparkle ... .

All the best for now,

Bonny x

Greece v Rome ... intelligence squared

On Thursday night Mr B and I went with some friends to a debate, Greece v Rome,  organised by Intelligence² at Central Hall Westminster. In the Greek corner, we had London Mayor, Boris Johnson, arguing the case for the world's first democracy, the satire-loving Greeks, and in the Roman corner we had the formidable Prof. Mary Beard. The billing for the event boasted that, had Mary been in charge, the Roman Empire would still be going strong! And that wasn't hyperbole. For all of Bojo's considerable eloquence and charisma, she wiped the floor with him.

Going into the debate 30% of us (self included) had no clear view, 38% favoured Greece and 32% were in the Roman camp. After Mary had finished her argument, the vote went in favour of Rome as she romped home with a 56% majority. She argued about the enduring legacy of the Romans, how they had built the first super-city in which their architecture was only eclipsed by feats of engineering made possible by the industrial revolution in the 19th century, and about how they had been inclusive extending citizenship to everyone, regardless of their country of origin or how humble their status, to create an upwardly mobile, multi-cultural society.

It was a good-natured exchange that threw up lots of interesting insights into the classical world and both speakers made us laugh. Intelligence² have an amazing programme of debates over the coming months. Videos of many of their past events can be viewed for free on their website: Intelligence Squared. The only thing to bear in mind, if you'd like to go along, is that tickets sell out quickly. So, if you see something that tickles your imagination, book it straight away.

All the best for now,

Bonny x

A charm of goldfinches ...

Did you know that a gang of goldfinches are known as a charm? No, me neither, but I'm going to use it at every opportunity. It's just too charming not to ... .

I've got a few of these little chaps who come to feast on niger seeds just outside my kitchen window. And I'd hate to add up all the time in my day that gets lost admiring them. In the bad old days these little guys were under threat from the caged bird trade, but one of the RSPB's first campaigns, Save the Goldfinch, happily turned the tide, and now they're growing in numbers again.

All the best for the weekend,

Bonny x

Handknit Christmas Tree Angel ...

Coming up to Christmas the world divides into two camps. There's the angel camp and the star camp. And me? I'm firmly with the angels. I wouldn't dream of putting a star on top of my Christmas tree.

No siree; it's an angel for me!

But here's the thing: when I trotted off to the shops for a tree-topper the only angels on offer were the plastic-fantastic variety that were all decked out in frills and cheap lace and frou-frou. And I'm even less into frills and cheap lace and frou-frou than I am into stars on the top of my Chrimbo tree. So I've knit myself an angel. She's comfortably padded, smiles angelically and wears woollen evergreen underpants: totally my kinda' winged wonder. What do you think?

I've knit her from worsted weight yarn (Sublime Extra Fine Merino Worsted) and she's really not difficult to make. Just read on for the pattern: