The Big Tissue

God, I am fed up with this awful cold.

The house that Jill built

I felt so horribly ill yesterday I had to cancel my scheduled walk with the Dynamic Denise and stay in bed for the morning. This restorative rest was interupted at frequent intervals by the postman delivering me all my recent internet buys. God, the rubbish one orders when not paying attention. I got the wrong lightbulbs, the wrong dental flossers and the wrong attachment for my new clover iron (a teeny iron for pressing seams). I settled down to Arabella Wier's new book which was disappointingly not as good as I had hoped. Oh well, it wiled away some ill time between nose blows. I think shopping in shops is probably a less hazardous way of making purchases; I just couldn't be arsed to go there.

I made my first house but it's not quite what I had in mind .... a bit too perfect. I'm aiming at something a bit scruffier. Back to the drawing board.

Social housing

Just had a brilliant idea whilst blowing my nose for the eightieth time in the last minute. That is apart from killing Mr Smith for giving me this stinky cold. He went to the optician this morning, or rather the opthalmic optometrist at the eye clinic, and is now wandering around the house in a pair of prescription sunglasses avoiding sunlight looking like a vampirish Stevie Wonder but less charismatic.

Now about the idea: I want to make a quilt of hundreds of little houses. I realise this might take some time, not just an afternoon, so I have apportioned the task and I now plan a House a Day. Every day I will make a little house and show it to you (technology permitting). Then, at the end of a few months or years I will have made enough to cover a bed. This could be fun when travelling as I will have to make my houses out of scrap materials I find or cut up my clothes or Mr Smith's clothes. I feel it ought to tell a story - preferably not of divorce or death by scissors.

I went to my first stained glass making class yesterday. I was rubbish. It's mighty tricky getting the glass to break in exactly the right place. The other students seem to be certifiably insane - I fit in well.

Atishoo

I have a cold, the dog also has a cold - we caught it from Mr Smith. "Don't say I never give you anything" says Mr Smith. His generosity knows no bounds.

Mood map

The Apprentice and I went to the British Library to see a fabulous exhibition of maps. It was the penultimate day before the end of this exhib so it was a bit argy bargy but with sharp elbows and a few excuse mes we got to see more than the backs of people's heads. Many mappa mundi later we felt a bit mapped out and could hardly bear to look at the tube map to get home - the mainline was being engineered.

Mr Smith was in a bait. This was because I wasn't there to wait on him when he came home from golf and he had to walk the dog. He has a cold which I know he will charmingly pass on to me. I refused to cook his dinner. This is because I didn't want to perform a roast chicken with all the paraphenalia and washing up; I wanted to watch X Factor and have a sausage in a bun for dinner. He cooked sausages but only for himself. He is beginning to get me down a bit - time for a seaside jaunt methinks only I seem to be getting a cold.

Home making

Gosh, so busy mostly doing nothing much. I am getting a bit fed up with the Apprentice sitting around the house all day driving me bonkers. He is supposedly building the Shed. He is taking architectural courses, buying architectural books, downloading architectural drawing programs all for a bleeding garden shed that comes in a kit! I despair. He has just bought himself a new computer to help with his shed building. I don't know why he can't bugger off to work like everyone else. I'm finding his presence puts me of my stride in staring into space.

I am currently making my Canadian patchwork quilt which involves applique. This involves much calling Mary Clare, my patchwork teacher friend, to glean knowledge over the blower - mighty tricky when it's something you need to be shown; think of teaching someone to knit over the phone, or worse, learning. Anyway progress is being made; I have a million little bits and nobody can get to the iron. I am hoping to rationalise it a bit today and stop making such a dreadful mess before Mr Smith has a darleck moment.

Gifted

Gosh, everyone bought me presents. Mr Smith bought me lillies which I added to the lillies Dynamic Denise not only presented me with but then arranged in a very clever way with the crinkly cellophane in the bottom of the vase. Quite magnificent. Then the boys turned up with fabulous gifts - a book on cupcakes for the Cupcake Queen, me, and a pack of maps of London walks. I was just thinking of putting on my walking boots again so this was perfect timing. They also bought DVDs for Mr Smith so we can watch films ... together. Well, we don't walk together as he strides ahead and makes it all woefully competitive and he hasn't shown much interest in the cakes department as yet.

I cooked an Anniversary feast of lamb, ratatouille and an experimental potato thing. Mr Smith complained the rat was too watery. Oh well, I tried. We finished with choux pastry swans. I was too tired to focus. Next big effort meal will definitely need a bit more forethought, i.e. make some of it the day before, and don't perform aqua zumba, shopping and cupcake masterclass prior to the event.