Oh, Birthday!

Yikes. Twenty.

So, last month, I hit the big 2-0. That's two decades. If I was a dog, I'd be 93 in human years. I'm no longer a teenager. What is happening to the world.

However, my wonderful housemates softened the blow by just being generally wonderful.

I woke up to an abundance of balloons...which is quite something, seeing as though one of my housemates has a genuine balloon phobia. Dedication to the birthday cause I feel.

Staircase of Happiness

The people I live with are quite extraordinary. I believe they got out of bed at 6am to decorate my walls. What utter lovely'uns. THANK YOU.

After a pinata for breakfast (no kiddin'), I became inundated with many sponges.

1. Me mama's cake of Joy and Wonderment 

Strawberries and cream cake is the traditional and oh-so-nostalgic sponge which makes an appearance on most of our family birthdays. Mam, you're a babe! Cheers.

2. The Six Tier Cake of Loveliness

Two wonderful beings from the Christian Union made this glorious creation, which took about a week to consume, but boy WAS IT TASTY. Each layer had a differently flavoured sponge of merriment (including one compiled from hand-made cookies). Dem boys did good... I thank thee.

3. A Cake: IN THE SHAPE OF A GUITAR

My dear friend and housemate Robert spent about a day furiously baking substantial amounts of chocolate sponge, at which he proceeded to chisel like a little Michael Angelo, until this beautiful beast was born. Many thanks Rob-Rob, you outdid yourself chuck.

I was also bought a rather majestic umbrella by Big Sis, with which I frolicked around for most of the day (and night). I think it's just wonderful. And if there's a flood, I am positive that it's big enough to use as a canoe. Highly practical too, then.

I think the gift was prompted by my passionate love of multicoloured umbrellas. She knows me good that girl.

So, all in all, I LOVE BIRTHDAYS. It's just a good excuse to have an old shindig with yer loved ones and sing happy songs. Thanks for your well-wishing and abundance of bear-hugs/little happy waves from afar. All were appreciated.

New Home and That

It's official. I've moved out. The Haz-bird has flown the nest, and is paying her own bills. WHAT.
But it's not too bad, as I've nested in an attic of pure joy.

Yeah buddy

What it sez on the tin

It's a little reading-haven. Although, not much reading gets done because there are also musical instruments hanging about the place which provide substantial and yummy distraction.

I also have some spectacular house-mates who go by the names, Elle-Belle, Stinky, Rob-Rob and Nicholades. They are splendid. They will also hate me for leaking their pet names on the internet.

Rob-Rob on the retro sofa of doom (in his gaming robe, naturally)

Ellen is some kind of craft-magician. She makes the most marvellous and eye-pleasing fabric-based items you'll ever see.

Her travelling blanket - LOOK AT IT!

Stinky (aka Alex) is not actually stinky at all. She smells of roses and is just an all-round lovely'un.

Her wall says it all

And Nicholades. I like him because we have ninja fights in the kitchen. And he is just cool beans. But if I took any pictures of his room, he may sucker-punch me in the face, so I'm playing it safe.

This is a new and exciting adventure with my Durham fam, and at the moment, we're happy bunnies.

But shout out to my Family Family.
I MISS YOU PEOPLE.
Come round for tea.
Cheers.
Bye.

Tea for Two...and another two

The four of us, Mam, Pap-Pap, Kate-face and Me went for a celebratory tea. Mam got some special offer on a peachy Afternoon Tea in this chipper country hall and we went ballistic.

We arrived at this place.

And were promptly introduced to these bad boy baked goods.

The purpose of this visit was to celebrate Big Sis' completion of her degree from Oxford. And that girl did good. We are proud of that munchkin.

Huzzarh!

Cheers, pet

Pampered by champers

A room with a not-too-shabby view

Big Sis has had some grief from a lot of obscure French books this year so she definitely deserved a scone or two.

Here's to you, beautiful sista! Onto bigger and better things. Whatever they may be.

P.S Stop nicking my hair grips, you wee beastie.

Flower Fest

Normally, I am quite indifferent to flowers. I enjoy a good floral pattern on knee-length skirts. I'm quite partial of frolicking through blooming meadows. Gypsophila makes me tremendously happy. I also like the smell of lavender so much that I sprinkled a concentrated oil solution all over my pillows thus inducing some kind of lavender sauna which made breathing nigh impossible.

So, on the whole, maybe I like flowers. Handy really, as we spent a pleasant afternoon wandering through the grounds of Eggleston Hall. And boy, do they have some stunners.

Some kind of dream garden

A personal favourite

An Ellen-flower

I just kind of meander about the place not knowing what is what. But I fell head over heels with some of the colours.

Autumnal loveliness in rusty orange

Also met this attractive chap.

The grounds hold the most beautiful, crumbling church hidden among hedgerows. It even has a tree growing through it. How mint is that.

Probs would be lovely for a summer wedding, although you might want to bring a tarpaulin. Just in case.

Little river

Floral-induced happiness

Also caught up with our Angel friend. She's lost some weight or sumfink.

Last Days of Summer

There is a distinct change in the air. Shops are bringing out their new knitwear selections. Sandals are being converted to trainers (or sandal and sock combinations, if you're daring). Iced tea is being replaced by its piping hot rival.

And soon, we'll end up going out the house looking like this:

Oh, the things our mam used to dress us in 

So, to say adieu to Summer 2012, our clan headed to the beach for one last mosey in the sea.

Met by yummy skies

Saltburn, our local coastal gem, was hosting a Farmers' Market in its bustling square. So naturally, we gravitated towards the magnetic pull of stalls bending under the weight of home-made slabs of raspberry and almond slices, tables of hand knitted cushions, and FREE TASTERS of locally produced sausages. What more could you ask for, eh?

Oh, spotted tablecloths of beauty!

An abundance of bunting

...and a lonely accordion.

We also came across a convoy of pleasant-looking horses. A dreamy way to spend an afternoon.

Big Sis looking smokin'

And a trip to Saltburn can never be complete without our family (namely, me) raiding the charity shops and finding some bargains. 

Feelin' chipper in new headscarf and coat

It's official then. I've bought my winter coat for this year. It's given me some closure, but I canne fully kick them post-summer blues.

I may buy some knitwear to cheer myself up.

Painting of Late

For years, I've been stuck in a watercolour rut. BUT NOT NOW. (Oh nay!)

A few weeks ago, my mam bought a load of Flaxseed Oil and some oil paints, and yesterday I had a riot with them and a big ol' piece a' paper.

Not only does Flaxseed oil 'support the maintenance of normal blood cholesterol concentrations,' but it also means one can swoosh an array of colours around and blend until your (healthy) heart's content.

If you fancy giving this a go, I've been informed that you need to cover the paper in a layer of white paint and oil so you can blend later on. I decided to experiment and whack a silhouette of cut out tree on there.

Lonely tree

...looking like an Ikea catalogue

Interrupted by an eager beaver

Bruised skies and a tree in the sea

It's not Van Gogh is it, eh? But heck, it's fun.

I used my hands mostly to blend. And here lies a problem. Found out it doesn't very easily come off your hands (or your hair). Luckily though, my Granddad had some super-power mystery wipes in his garage which removed all the oil. Alternatively, I googled it and apparently it all comes off with olive oil and hot water. Someone else suggested using mayonnaise, but don't blame me if your hands smell like a tuna salad.

And yes, and it's also not advisable to use your Grandma's best dinner plates as a palette - it takes some scrubbin' to get off. 

Soz Granny!