Self restraint,,,

Christmas gnome No1- There will be more. This one is small and I’m going to do a couple quite a bit bigger to use as door stops over the festive season. Needs a darker coloured nose too.

Quite frankly, I think self restraint is over rated. I mean, why not do what you feel like doing? (Applying all the caveats like – as long as it doesn’t hurt/upset anyone else  and so on.)  So when I see a person in very tight leggings, a T shirt made for someone significantly smaller  (and, let’s face it, younger),  with underwear and fleshy lumpy bits on full display, why do I disapprove? If she’s happy looking like a cross between a duvet and a bouncing castle, why do I want to stand her in front of a mirror, point out the camel toe and shout “I don’t need to see this!”?  But, in spite of the damage it probably does to my blood pressure, I practise restraint and just scream silently.

And in the supermarket, when the people who have no concept of personal space, step backwards into my path and then don’t even respond when I say I’M SORRY, as if it’s my fault, why do I not stare them in the face and express my displeasure forcibly? With a cattle prod, for instance.

The second, and so far nameless aardvark. Any ideas?
My first aardvark – Arnold by name.


I’m an oldish person; a pensioner; a granny. This does not give me the right to greet someone I see EVERY BLOODY WEEK in the same place and proceed to block the aisle, while the four of us – there are always at least four – discuss the weather, our pharmaceutical regime and/or digestive peculiarities, and the price of washing up liquid very loudly because others in the group are hard of hearing and the speaker is hard of thinking AND at the same time, totally ignore their shopping trolleys which are careering off tangentially to damage several other shoppers. So why do other grannies do it?

And a doll for my grandaughter, also as yet unnamed – the doll, not the granddaughter! I think she needs pants – the doll, not the granddaughter!
A lop eared rabbit for the little girl next door. Are the eyes a bit too small? Looks more like Snoopy than a rabbi to me.

I hold doors open for people who don’t say thank you. Why do I do this? I know they won’t say thank you, so why do I expect it?  Well, hope wistfully, really, not really expect.  I do sometimes glare at them and say loudly “You’re welcome” in response to the thanks they haven’t given but that’s going to backfire one day when one of them turns round and biffs me in the chops for being cheeky.

Using Ell-ish as a motif monotangle for the swap.

And then there are the orange painted girls whose make up ends in a thick line around their chins that can be seen from space , with eyebrows that look as if they were designed at the Groucho Marx moustache school of maquillage,  whose not so subtley false eyelashed eyes are glued to their phones and whose 2 inch long fake nails tap tap a constant stream of  badly spelled abbreviations, whilst stepping onto the road in front of moving vehicles. Mine, in fact. I’d run them down and be done with it but I don’t want to get make up on my car.



I wish I could remember the name of this pattern.


They are crossing the road to be with similarly engaged young men, wearing T shirts of four letter words or sexually explicit pictures but with designer labels (on the outside!) so that’s alright then; whose trousers fall at the back below the designer underwear, revealing pale, often spotty, bum cleavages and buttocks  that have me desperately searching on Amazon for branding irons. And when they get together they barely nod an acknowledgement, instead, continuing the phone chat with the person they would, presumably, rather be with.




Mak rah mee. Not entirely happy with this, so I may send a substitute instead.
Another one I can’t remember the name of but it’s from the mother ship.

And that’s why I have trouble when I go into, or even near to, shops that sell craft supplies. I find myself buying just one more pen, or pack of pens, a block of good quality drawing paper, a die for my Big Shot, some glitter glue and water colour pencils;  yarn to add to my already bulging cupboard full and ready to crochet; embroidery thread and canvas; embellishments for card making and books. I mean, you can always see a book you would like the look of, can’t you? It’s their fault really. I’ve used up all my self restraint not killing, or at least maiming, the badly dressed, unthinking, mannerless dolts who all too often cross  my path.

But when I sit down to sew, crochet or draw, I can forgive them all, as I settle into Maggiland, with a cup of tea at my side and enough space cleared on my desk for  a piece of card and a couple of pens; my precarious equilibrium re- calibrates and the world is a better place. Aaaahhhh!

My first attempt at Striping, after seeing Margaret Bremner’s blog and trying it out for myself.
Striping for the monotangle swap – not my best but it’s a reasonable attempt.
And for the zendala swap, using Striping again. Not yet finished and not all the Striping will be black. In fact, I wish I’d used blue on this. However, you never know how it will be until you put the pen down, do you?

And then the Diva Challenge comes around and I am swept away on clouds of inspiration. Or not. We’ll see, we’ll see…



Well this week’s Challenge is to big it up, which is a bit tricky because I’m away on hols in Spain and the biggest piece of card I brought is about post card size. So I decided to big up the pattern instead. I stuck a metaphorical pin in  and found Lenche, by Anita Aspors Westin. I haven’t used it before so it was nice to try something new too.  It’s one I will use again, so thank you Anita for this one.




7 thoughts on “Self restraint,,,

  1. ohmigosh! you’ve managed to put into words those thoughts that clutter my head on a daily basis;-) Thank you so much for the best read I’ve had in ages. Your art never ceases to amaze me. I’m really loving those swap ATC’s;-)

  2. Oh dear, that’s quite a back story (rant) to explain your need to buy craft supplies and to tangle this week. Of course, as a woman of a certain age, I’ve also had those violent thoughts vis-a-vis annoying people encountered in everyday life. Having spent 13 hours yesterday in airplanes and in airports, I did have my regard for some fellow humans tested. We have something in common. We’re both in Spanish speaking parts of the world, it seems. Meanwhile, I am completely unfamiliar with Lenche (so many tangles, so little time), so thank you for your lovely rendition of it. You’ve inspired me to find it and give it a try.

    Your crocheted animals are completely charming. If we are ever blessed with a grandchild, I’ll no doubt put in an order—which will also be an excuse to revisit England to pick it up. There’s a lovely, sweet dalmatian dog at the B&B where we’re staying in Oaxaca. His name is Durango—perhaps you could borrow that name for your nameless aardvark.

    Safe travels.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.