Call me old fashioned, but I've only just discovered blogs. Literally, just. I've been at home sick from work this week with a killer head cold and out of an utter lack of concentration for my own projects, I've turned to the net to see what other people are making. You guys have been doing some incredible things!! Pure craft envy has driven me to give this a go myself.
So why blog? I make stuff. Not a lot of stuff, but a little here, a little there. I heart food and fabric and string and growing things and yarn and books about yarn and fabric and food and growing things.
We just moved to this old Victorian era house in the tiny village of Long Itchington in rural Warwickshire, England in July. No, it's not a play on words as many of my friends back home have suspected. And yes, it does make me want to scratch something every time I say it out loud. It's not quite as romantic as it may sound. In reality, living in a quirky turn of the century cottage means that you don't have a water tank big enough to fill up the bath and that the radiators don't exactly work on demand. But what it lacks in modern conveniences, is made up for in charm and it's great location. Our property backs onto a donkey farm! We have 4 plum trees growing in our back yard (Victoria plums and something wistfully called a Warwickshire Druper) and I've just started a 'salad garden'. Okay, so I just planted some lettuce, onions and radishes, but salad garden sounds so posh. Our neighbors are young and hip and friendly and we've got miles of country roads out our front door to cycle or jog along. The village itself is on the canal network, and near a laborious set of locks, and the local pub landlords have responded to all that idle time for the narrowboatsters by going gastro and with great success. We have two regional winners for best pub and BBC radio five live's number 2 pub in the country. Hmpf.
So how, exactly, does a pseudo hippie chick raised in the fishing camps of the Kenai River, Alaska end up in the decadent English countryside? She meets a great guy in a bar in Seattle. She hijacks him from his travel itinerary and spontaneously takes him unwittingly, but not unwillingly, to the San Juan Islands where she unwittingly and unwillingly falls head over heels in love. He goes home to Coventry. They keep in touch. They write letters and exchange painstakingly composed mixed CD's. He decides to come back for two weeks, but stays for six. They spend Christmas with her family. They road trip down the coast all the way to California on a whim. She comes to the UK a month later. Repeat for one year. She decides Seattle is too far away and abruptly quits her job, and unable to completely give up her independence, moves to Poland to teach English. She doesn't immediately find a job there so she travels around Eastern Europe in the heart of winter looking for work and finds it in the Czech Republic's second city, Brno. Repeat for one year. She comes to the UK in June 2006 and stays for good. They begin the happily ever after and are married by December.
And this seems like a good place for my blog to begin. --The Queen Bee
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