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helenc_w1
Helen Campbell-woodrup
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We put the "laughter" in Manslaughter. -- Randy Goldstein
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Gearing up for Christmas

Yesterday my sister hosted a Craft and Gift Fair, up in my home village. I had a stall selling a bit of all sorts. Pictures will follow in my next post.

Having been busily making and crafting for the last few weeks/months it seems as though I should be feeling thoroughly Christmassy, but I'm not. I think I've been so focussed on getting things done that I haven't looked at the bigger picture - just what are my Christmas Ornaments going to be used FOR? Why, to go on a Christmas Tree of course!

I think now the fair is over I can sit back, relax, and start thinking about how I want my Christmas to be this year. One word: Relaxing.

My craft stall.

Poetry and Lyrics

Wowsers.

I stumbled across my old poetry and lyrics book today, containing words written from 1995 - 2001. There aren't many, but it is easy to read back through and see who I was at each stage.

It ranges from the usual boy obsessed stuff that most teenage girls write, up to the last which was about the Foot and Mouth disease outbreak in 2001-2002. My parents are farmers, hence why it affected me.

What strikes me most is that there are half a dozen specifically dealing with depression, stress, suicide and euthanasia. While I wasn't formally diagnosed with depression until 2009, I had been asked about it in both secondary school and sixth form, by my teachers.

In 2001 I had time off university, two weeks, after a stress meltdown. Not a full blown breakdown, but not far off. I remember sitting in a coffee bar in town (I'd been sent home to recuperate) with my mum and sister, and it was painfully obvious that neither of them knew what to say, or how to tackle it. It goes back to my families expertise at small talk but not much else. It was very much a case of "Keep Calm and Carry On". Don't talk about the war was effectively replaced by "Don't talk about your mixed up feelings" or else the world might come crashing down.

I haven't thought about that in years, but the memories have flooded back just as easily as ever. I can even picture which table we were sat at.  (I used to love that coffee bar, but that was because I had a major crush on the manager. Funny thing is that it faded as soon as I realised I was taller than him. I'm 5'7"in my socks and he, erm, isn't.)


I might post some of the poems and lyrics up here, or I might hide the book back and find it in another ten years. We shall see.

Sunday, Sunday, so good to me.

I'm feeling utterly relaxed today. Have had some good kitchen time over the last couple of days, and there is nothing I have to do today, other than put a little washing on later.

Lodger is out today, watching her little brother play football. I hope they have a good time, but its absolutely throwing it down. So, I'm content inside. Husband is watching TV, Scrapheap Challenge, and I'm able to tappity tap away on here.


I'm in an autumnal frame of mind, thinking about the winter ahead and working out what I can do to make it easier. I'm thinking more preserving, flannel sheets, and games nights to build community.


I was going to put a nice autumnal picture here, but couldn't decide which to use. So, if you want a picture, go to google and search for Autumn Yorkshire.  Lovely.

The fruits of my labour.

So, this is what I made last night and this morning.

The loaf and bread rolls were made last night, along with a batch of oat biscuits that didn't survive the night.

The oat biscuits and chocolate muffins were made this afternoon, as my sister in law is coming over with her kids. I like to have things to offer my guests.

Sent by Carrier Pigeon.

Restoration of the soul.

I yearn for a little calm, peace, and soothing quiet.

I walk a mile home from work, down the high street, along a main road, and all the way there is noise. Today is a market day so there is also bustle from the stalls packing down. No cheerful home crafters and bakers these, but men who want to earn their dollar and go home.

Tonight there is the added bonus of a shop alarm going off. I shall have a headache by the time I get home.

And then? Quiet. Lodger is at work and I've pre-warned husband that I will be in the kitchen as soon as I get back. I crave a little kitchen-witchery, cooking and baking to nourish my soul and household.

I can't wait.
Sent by Carrier Pigeon.