Here's the Discover Mersea map I've been working on in all its greeny glory.
Thursday 25 April 2013
Sunday 21 April 2013
The Wobbles.
Things are always happening. Work things, home things, life things, all sorts of things happen and I often enthusiastically think,
"Ooh, I'll post this up on my blog so all you lovely readers can see too."
Feeling shiny and bold I naively believe the world wants to know, but then somewhere along the way I get the wobbles.
I have a doubter who lives on my shoulder. I have mentioned him before. He does not believe in my blog or in my artful path of seaside righteousness. He whispers misgivings in my ear. He will not shut up. He fills my head with The Wobbles (yes, I've given them capitals this time).
Wobbly behaviour gets me nowhere.
"Have the courage of your convictions Leafy," I tell myself.
"Keep going, post away!" and then,
"What an idiotic waste of time. For what reason are you boring the world with your drivel?"
"You are a fool Leafy, vain and conceited."
Then I hear my grandmother's voice,
"She hides her light under a bushel," she said.
This was said (by my grandmother) in praise of my mother (not me) about a worthy piece of writing (her firsthand account of the war in Beirut and life in Damascus) not some silly piece of colouring in.
I am still wondering whether one should or shouldn't hide under a bushel. Vanity is surely a sin, and -quelle horreur- I am sure my grandmother would never dream of being so brass-necked as to show off her light on the internet for all to see.
I can only conclude that I am a charlatan.
It's always a thrill to see your name in the paper, for however minor a reason. There it was, LEAFY DUMAS, in Tuesday's Gazette, bold as brass. (I took a photograph of the aftermath of last Sunday's lifeboat shout, and it was published and duly credited to me.) The lovely folk at Visit Mersea Island posted the Gazette article here. I proudly shared it on my facebook page but 40 minutes later (my doubter having done his work) I took it down, ashamed of my blatant showing off.
I have been glueing together my daughter's optimist. The Dabchick's spring sailing programme starts soon and we must be ready (although I am not sure we will be). Our opi is a very beautiful, very old wooden dinghy that we love dearly, but after going to sea with a galumphing grown-up sized skipper (whoops... it might have been me) the bottom started to come away from the sides. I am quite pleased with my epoxy efforts and I thought I might photograph the mend and share my progress here, but I didn't and I haven't (it's that bothersome doubter again).
Between boat mending and learning the battles of the English Civil War (even salty seagirls have school history tests) I have been working on the map part of the Discover Mersea info boards. I love maps. A few more tweaks and (doubter be damned) I will brazenly show you all.
Now for a bit more brass-neckery...
"Ooh, I'll post this up on my blog so all you lovely readers can see too."
Feeling shiny and bold I naively believe the world wants to know, but then somewhere along the way I get the wobbles.
I have a doubter who lives on my shoulder. I have mentioned him before. He does not believe in my blog or in my artful path of seaside righteousness. He whispers misgivings in my ear. He will not shut up. He fills my head with The Wobbles (yes, I've given them capitals this time).
Wobbly behaviour gets me nowhere.
"Have the courage of your convictions Leafy," I tell myself.
"Keep going, post away!" and then,
"What an idiotic waste of time. For what reason are you boring the world with your drivel?"
"You are a fool Leafy, vain and conceited."
Then I hear my grandmother's voice,
"She hides her light under a bushel," she said.
This was said (by my grandmother) in praise of my mother (not me) about a worthy piece of writing (her firsthand account of the war in Beirut and life in Damascus) not some silly piece of colouring in.
I am still wondering whether one should or shouldn't hide under a bushel. Vanity is surely a sin, and -quelle horreur- I am sure my grandmother would never dream of being so brass-necked as to show off her light on the internet for all to see.
I can only conclude that I am a charlatan.
It's always a thrill to see your name in the paper, for however minor a reason. There it was, LEAFY DUMAS, in Tuesday's Gazette, bold as brass. (I took a photograph of the aftermath of last Sunday's lifeboat shout, and it was published and duly credited to me.) The lovely folk at Visit Mersea Island posted the Gazette article here. I proudly shared it on my facebook page but 40 minutes later (my doubter having done his work) I took it down, ashamed of my blatant showing off.
I have been glueing together my daughter's optimist. The Dabchick's spring sailing programme starts soon and we must be ready (although I am not sure we will be). Our opi is a very beautiful, very old wooden dinghy that we love dearly, but after going to sea with a galumphing grown-up sized skipper (whoops... it might have been me) the bottom started to come away from the sides. I am quite pleased with my epoxy efforts and I thought I might photograph the mend and share my progress here, but I didn't and I haven't (it's that bothersome doubter again).
Between boat mending and learning the battles of the English Civil War (even salty seagirls have school history tests) I have been working on the map part of the Discover Mersea info boards. I love maps. A few more tweaks and (doubter be damned) I will brazenly show you all.
Now for a bit more brass-neckery...
I sold one of these yesterday.
Like most of my work it is not actually in my shop (yet). Yes, I know it should be but it's not, so for the time being if you would like one too, please contact me via a comment, an email or through fb.
A bientot!
Sunday 14 April 2013
Out on a Shout
Today was extraordinary and I hardly dare mention it for fear of jinxing the sunshine, but for the first time this year it felt warm(ish) and almost summery. I started off with two jerseys and a woolly hat, and ended up in shirtsleeves- fancy that!
We also had the first lifeboat shout for a couple of months -my first shout of this year.
(A casualty thrown from his RIB and a swamped motorboat -his rescuer- stuck on a lee shore.)
The eagle-eyed amongst you might notice that this picture shows the old style lifejacket. We've recently been issued with new lifejackets (that are slightly less cumbersome but more difficult to re-pack) and we no longer have maroons. I think I might have to re-do these illustrations.
We also had the first lifeboat shout for a couple of months -my first shout of this year.
(A casualty thrown from his RIB and a swamped motorboat -his rescuer- stuck on a lee shore.)
The eagle-eyed amongst you might notice that this picture shows the old style lifejacket. We've recently been issued with new lifejackets (that are slightly less cumbersome but more difficult to re-pack) and we no longer have maroons. I think I might have to re-do these illustrations.
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