Lovely little trinkets

You may remember from my last post that I mentioned I've been experiencing a certain level of muddle-headedness as far as my WIPs are concerned.  Frankly, I've got enough other gumpf in my life to make me muddle-headed, without WIPs getting in on the act too; so I've decided to be calm and logical and try to tackle them one at a time.  (I'm trying to imagine how I would have approached it in the days when I had a proper job and wore a suit, but my memory's shot and I've given all my suits to charity, so it's not working very well.)
Today saw me sitting outside in the sun, surrounded by piles of flags and bits of bias binding and pins - attempting to finish off my latest and absolutely final batch of tent bunting.  I feel I may now be approaching the point where people are likely to walk past my tent and mutter to themselves 'hmmm, she's overdone it a bit on the old bunting-front there.  Over-egged the pudding, as it were'.  And if there's one thing I certainly don't want, it's an over-egged pudding tent.  Anyhooo, I made my first lot in a very efficient and logical fashion from some rather delectable winceyette (just had to check the spelling of that on Google.  It's a funny old word - makes me shudder a bit.  It seems totally inappropriate for the thing that it's describing.  A bit like sleet.  I always think that's just completely wrong):

And then, with about 500 flags still to go, I ran out of bias binding.  So that was a bit of a pain.

So I moved on to something else: a really simple skirt for baby n, which I'd seen in 'Handmade Living'.  But like a true numpty, I cut the fabric to exactly the width of her waist, as opposed to twice the width of her waist, and that was just annoying; so I left that and moved on to something else...
Do you see where I'm going with this?
Calm?  Logical?  I think not.
So now I'm moving on to something that doesn't get me quite as het-up as my current crafty makes: the rather exciting things that have been arriving through my letter box this week.  Actually, the first rather thrilling blog-related thing that arrived at my house came a couple of weeks ago.  Now, before I go any further with this, I just want to set the scene: I had left the house in the usual flap that accompanies every morning's school run - I walked (ran) up the road to school with the children; meandered back towards home with a couple of friends; decided to pop into the village before going back home, to get some bread (had to borrow a couple of quid from a friend to purchase said bread - which reminds me, I still haven't paid her back.  Ooops); had a chat with a couple of people I bumped into; strolled home again an hour after I'd left, to find the front door standing wide open and an envelope on the front door mat.  After checking that my handbag, which I'd left in full view of the front door, was still there (it was - phew) I realised that I hadn't been burgled, I'd just been a complete goon and forgotten to shut the door in my rush to get to school.  Note to self...  Anyway, the point of all that is that the envelope was from the lovely Cuckoo, and contained the recipe for the elderflower cup cakes that I blogged about before.  So - thank you, Cuckoo - they were yum!
And on Tuesday I had a double-whammy of post-related excitement: this rather cutesome outfit that my auntie kindly bought for baby n:

Thank you, mushroom one!

And this lovely cube for big n's teacher, which I ordered from the very talented Fee.

I'm secretly a bit disappointed I can't keep it for myself because it's absolutely lovely, but sadly my name's not Miss Dorsett and I'm not a teacher, so it just wouldn't look right:

It was extra great of Fee to send this to me as I haven't actually paid her for it yet - thanks Fee, don't forget to let me know how much I owe you!

Blimey, this post's turning into a bit of a tome (by my standards, anyway).  I'm going to finish today with a snippet of my life: yesterday, while trying to make the dinner amongst the usual background of tv noise (boys), computer games (boys), the radio (me), shouting (everyone) I became aware of baby n standing near me saying 'uh oh, uh oh'.  This is a fairly recent piece of language for her, and it's one that never fails to make my heart sink when I hear it.  I turned from my position by the cooker, noting the strong smell of cinnamon in the air, to see bun-bun (baby n's absolute favourite toy in the whole wide world) lying on the floor looking like a victim of some awful, frenzied knife-related crime:

Note to self: must get a catch on the spice drawer... x