'What do you think that stuff at the back is carved from?' asked Nick as we sat in church.
'Stone I think, hard to see from here' I replied (or words to that effect at least)
'I couldn't do that' said Nick, 'people can't do things like that any more'
'No, but you can make boxes', I reassured him

The church we are hoping to use for the wedding is one of those breathtakingly beautiful ones. High beamed ceilings, full of dark carved wood and intricately patterned stone. It is not the reason we chose it, (even though some may think it is) we chose it due to the connections with Nick's family - it is where his parents were married, where Nick and his siblings were christened, aunt someone used to do the flowers, uncle someone else sang in the choir etc (forgive me for not remembering their names as I write).

I always thought, if I were to have a church wedding it would be in St Margaret's Church in Barking, where there is a similar long standing family history. With the added bonus of Captain Cook having been married there (that's one for my brother ;)) It has made me realise how my life has moved. I have now spent almost half my life outside of the county where I was born. So why then, do I associate myself more with there than Kent? My adult years have all been spent in South East London/Kent, yet if you ask, I will still say I am from Essex, 'From Essex but living in Kent.' Matt, for example, does not say 'From Manchester but living in Kent' (unless he is looking for an excuse to support Utd), I can not recall a time when by brother has said 'From Essex but living in London'.

I do not know why it is. I am sure I am not the only one. It just creeps up on me sometimes. I do not know if it is a good thing or not.

In other news. Mary and I made attempts at girliness at the weekend and went for a bridal make-over at Elizabeth Arden in preparation for her big day. We failed to answer any girl questions correctly and came out much more sparkly than we went in. All good stuff. So thanks to Mary for sharing a new experience and earning us both significant girl points! (Note: If it came down to it, I won the most girl points as I do own some eyelash curlers)

Posted by kary at 04:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Nick is creating art again. I am pleased. It has been a while since he has found inspiration. The painting thing had long since passed, leaving only me to wield the paintbrush. But, as I say, Nick is creating again.

This time the flat is full of pallets, not paint palettes but big dirty wooden ones. There is much banging and crashing, sawing and drilling.

He is producing boxes, crates. Large sculptures with interestingly placed holes, locks and hinges. It is a good thing to observe as to watch him make something attractive, functional and interesting from a bunch of dirty old bits of discarded wooden junk is really rather cool.

Below is an unfinished example... (47" x 30" x 26")

It now has locks, hinges and small holes and is sitting in front of our fireplace until the next exhibition in March. More seem to be appearing as the days go by.

Posted by kary at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I am feeling decidedly light headed this evening.

This is mainly due to the fact that my long red locks have been chopped. They are now significantly shorter (I did not dare look at the floor of the hairdressers) and complete with a sweepy fringe type affair.

Valentine's Day was a very fine event in our household. I will not regurgitate posts from the past, suffice to say that whilst I agree that it is commercialised and over-hyped, why the hell not? As long as the romantic gestures are not restricted to that one day a year, then why not? Old Humbugs those who refuse to acknowledge it!

So here's to cards, gifts and sentimentality! Thanks to my Lovely One.

Posted by kary at 08:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I have decided that I really am quite rubbish at being a churchgoer. I seem to be unable to attend without something odd occuring.

The first week I cried lots over the choir and the children.

The second gave us the giggles over the matching vicar and table cloth.

The third saw me running out during the Lord's Prayer to be sick.

This week we found ourselves feeling very protective over our place in the church and I had to try desperately not to be a teacher. It was a 'Songs of Praise' service involving local school children as well as us regulars. Parents spent the whole service talking, failing to even attempt to keep small children quiet (having failed to provide them with anything to do - I mean come on, take a colouring book or something, it isnt rocket science!) and generally taking over the whole place as if they owned it. It was odd how possessive we felt about our space and our service and our church. Oh and it made me cry again, proper tears on cheeks cry.

One thing I noticed about the school involved... our children speak more clearly and sing with much more energy and enthusiasm. There are less of ours but they make twice the noise! Well done to our kids!

Posted by kary at 01:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)