Ready to Hook but Not Roll

Settles herself down in her overstuffed chair, spreads voluminous skirts prettily around her and begins....
As you may or may not know dear friends, Danvers is about to embark on her very first Crochet Club. Having signed up for Jane Crowfoots 2012 crochet blanket club last year the time has now come for the first of the patterns to plop into her inbox. She waits none too patiently and plays genteely with the beautiful Rowan yarns (which arrived a couple of weeks ago) whilst sharpening her hooks. The theme of the blanket is 'Victorian Lace', a fitting theme for Danvers don't you think? Danvers shall keep you informed as the work progresses over the following 6 months.......she rubs hands together with great anticipation and glee at the prospect of many hours of hooking.

On Plumpness and the Lack of It
Ahem. Danvers would like to announce that although she is inordinately fond of plumpness....in kittens, children/babes in arms, fruits, wallets etc.......she is none too fond of it on her. Sadly a diet consisting of such delicacies as hand-made belgian chocolates, profitaroles, coddled eggs and lamb cutlets had not been kind to Danvers over the years and she had almost inexplicably found herself on the wrong side of plump. Plumpness (never fat dear things, that is simply too rude) crept up alongside Danvers, tapped her ever so politely on the shoulder and whispered "Permission to come aboard Madam?" and Danvers being Danvers completely misheard the question as she was concentrating on something else entirely at the time and nodded in a slightly bemused but as ever, pretty manner. And Lo! the plumpness duly arrived!
Not a woman to be trifled with (although she can certainly appreciate a trifle) by anything or anyone, Danvers gripped plumpness by its amply proportioned horns and shook it until it at last began to lose its grip upon her hips, thighs and other regions of rotundity. With a treadmill ensconced within one of the lesser used rooms of Danvers Hall and an iron will that would make Mrs.Thatcher (the old version not the current one) look like a simpering pet, she has whittled, perspired and run as if the very devil himself were hot on her heels and is now a veritable shadow of her former self.......and all this since 1st December 2011! Yes, even over Christmas Danvers lost some plump. How's that for determined?
"How did you do it?" she hears you cry. Well, it's like this. Don't eat. But when you do, make sure the food is good for you and ergo, tasteless. It you can taste what you are eating, spit it out immediately and go chew on some deliciously unknown-to-the-natural-world-foodstuff  e.g. polystyrene, sorry, rice cakes. And exercise. Lots of exercise, even if it is only running after ones spouse with an axe yelling "BUT I'M HUNGRY!". All forms of physical exertion is good for ridding oneself of plumpness.
On the plus side. Danvers is now wearing skinny jeans, finds it a doddle to tie her Hi-Tops from a standing position (did anyone mention fashion victim?) and can no longer fold her underwear into origami swans as she has had to downsize her undies.

A new wardrobe beckons to Danvers like Captain Ahab's hand to his crew when he was harpooned to Moby Dick.
Happy Days are indeed, here again. More plump news shall follow forthwith but for now Danvers is off to gnaw on an old bone she wrestled from the jaws of next-doors dog.

Just because i like it

Can't help loving this. So bleakly beautiful and emo and shouty.......and his nails are worse than mine. Danvers can never make up her mind as to whether this man-child is handsome or not but Danvers does love his slightly fangy teeth. Ricky Gervaise has slightly fangy teeth too but he does actually bite.

Oddities

For the want of a box the war was lost.....
Yes, we have thrown away the box for the recently acquired Christmas tree, so in true intrepid Danvers stylie, the tree will remain throughout the year. Dusting is not an option as she is determined to fill said tree to such an overwhelming capacity with geegaws and oddities of such delicacy and oopsiedaisyness that the mere waft of the gentlest of breezes may bring the whole confection tumbling to the ground. Thus rendering Danvers innocent of all charges of slovenlyness.
Sorted.
Having been an avid collector or many weird and wonderful objects over the years (no not Mr.D, but he is definitely getting weirder) space is now at a premium here at the Hall. Not a cupboard nor drawer can be opened without fear of something popping out and rolling on the floor......there is still a wind-up bloodied crawling hand stranded under the dining room table as no one can be bothered to scramble under and retrieve it, the kids are soooo well behaved at the dinner table thanks to that  hand......so being able to deck an all-through-the-year tree with her collected oddities has Danvers grinning from ear to ear.
After attempting to remove every last trace of xmas glitter left lingering from the Hall Danvers has given up and started playing with her new camera.
And joining Twitter.
No doubt the old harridan will bore of it (Twitter not the camera, which she adores) sooner rather than later but for now she is greatly pleased to be able to stalk people without the rest of the populace thinking she is a forlorn strange creature as they all stalk on Twitter themselves.
Result!
Now, off to brush MrWhitby as he has a clinger.
(she gags delicately and dons rubber gloves)

Happy 2012

Just a quick bit of blogging to say a Happy New Year to all my dear long-suffering readers.
Danvers shall be more blog-responsible in 2012 and not neglect it so much......promise.
The old dame got lots of lovely xmas presents which she will be playing with in the coming months, the best being her NEW OLYMPUS CAMERA!!!!! Danvers' old camera was so unreliable and crotchety (remind you of anybody?) that she had given up taking pics with it. Now the old bat can really show how gifted she is in the photgraphy stakes.......cue weeks of weeping tempermentally when things don't work out how she wants and arty shots that show the inside of her nostril. Eat yer heart out David Bailey et al.

So, a somewhat uncharacteristically warm hug to you all for 2012. May you and yours be healthy wealthy and wise in this, the UK's Olympic Games Year. Danvers is donning her fuschia pink 1980's inspired shell suit as she speaks....and no, there will be no photo's to prove it!

Bah Humbug Bag

At last Danvers has finally finished her stripey bucket bag! She got over her fear of the extremely long and pointy needle needed for attaching the leather handles and is greatly pleased with the resulting bag.......perfect for holding all the weighty crapola she usually totes around with her on her regular shopping expeditions. You like?
The bag was most useful last weekend when she polished off the last of her Christmas gift shopping, stuffing it full of DVD's, CD's and the paperback books that everyone seemed to want this year (obviously Danvers paid for said items before stuffing them into her bag, she is quite moral you know) and it held up to the strain well. Danvers will be making herself some more bags in the New Year.

Ho Bloody Ho!
Yes, the decs are up at Danvers Hall and minimalism becomes ever more attractive as Danvers' enthusiasm for Christmas wanes and her willingness to climb ladders to reach the rather high ceilings wanes with it. So gone is the traditional 10' tree with its glittery baubles, gone is the vast amount of tinsel that seemed to be required to fill the house with sparkle and gone is the multi-colour-make-your-eyes-bleed themes that the family always preferred due to their love of all things Disney/Fairground rides/Blingy Nights Out and IMHO, their colour blindness. Why did Danvers ever let those of little taste dictate the Christmas decs I hear you cry? Because the old Danvers was far too nice to say no to them that's why. The new improved Danvers is strong. The new improved Danvers is mean and most importantly, the new improved Danvers gives not a hoot what others think of her. That, my dear reader, has been the greatest gift Danvers has ever given herself......she likes to think of it as her 'Christmas Balls'.

Instead of the Hall looking like a Winter Wonderland it looks a little spare and a little sparse and is beautifully echo-y since Danvers threw out the tatty rugs that covered the wooden floors...which Danvers finds quite charming and quite in keeping with the economic climate that now prevails. Bleak House dear friends, soooo Chrismassy don't you think? Danvers has a penchant for bleakness.

Oddly, Danvers had a pre-menopausal blast of 'oooooh let's make some Christmas decs for the tree' moment a couple of months back and cross-stitched some overly seasonal tags and a little felt house with which to adorn the bare boughs. The mood did'nt last long thankfully and after completing 3 tags and 1 house she came back to reality and dumped the remaining threads,needles and Aida in a plastic bag and consigned it all to a recess at the back of a very deep dark cupboard under the stairs....her descendants may discover the items many years from now and imagine a dear old lady sitting comfortably in her chair stitching, whilst recounting fairytales to adoring enraptured grandchildren gathered at her feet. How wrong could they be.
Danvers has tried telling her grandchildren fairytales but apparently the wolf no longer eats grandma, the woodcutter does'nt chop the wolf into pieces and Rumpelstiltskin no longer rips himself in half with rage. Danvers had a fairly stern telling orf from her handsome teacher son. "Mum you can't tell the kids stories like that, it scares them". Danvers stared blankly at her offspring and wondered how he had done so well having been so traumatised by these tales in his own childhood. Each generation has its own ideas on child rearing, which is why the world is going to Hell in a Handcart. sniff

Back soon with more misery to brighten your days me dears

Yeah Verily, Tempus Fugit!

Dear Long Lost Readers,
Danvers is here once again, fresh from many weeks of hooking and needling and back for a speedy blog before she sets her sights on the dreaded and terribly overreated Season of Goodwill to All Men.
"Can this be!" she yells at the calender on the refridgerator door "Too soon too soon!!" Danvers is tempted to jettison herself to the Bahamas til January leaving the relatives wondering how to defrost a 28lb turkey, wrap the present shaped like a banana so that it does'nt actually look like a banana and how to get the Christmas tree decorated without poking out an eye on the lower branches and electrocuting themselves with the antiquated fairylights. Indeed, Danvers is pretty much indispensible during Yule so the Bahamas remain a pipedream......she sighs prettily into her cross stitchery and dreams of beaches.

But onwards and upwards dear hearts! Never one to shirk her responsibilities entirely due to the fact that she would'nt get away with it, Danvers has reserved a table at a very refined and genteel restaurant for Christmas luncheon so she shall escape the annual grappling with the 'parsons nose' this year for the first time in adulthood. The joy of knowing someone other than her fair self shall be doing the stuffing has her positively glowing like Blackpool Illuminations on a hen night.

Can it be said without fear of retribution that Danvers abhors Christmas? For she does, with a passion. She yearns for the days when all you got was a tangerine stuffed into the toe of an old sock and the whole family got tremendously excited when the Woolworths Christmas ad was shown for the first time on the telly.  The Morcombe and Wise show was Danvers only true treat and she can still occasionally be heard singing 'Bring Me Sunshine' whilst cavorting drunkenly (cooking sherry is vastly overrated) through the halls of Danvers Manor on a cold winter moonlit night.

Danvers in now in total and utter denial and shall refer no more to the impending doom of Crimbo. But i do wish you very well for the Christmas period my dears.

She Has Been A Making
Unbowed by the knitting/crocheting tasks before her, Danvers knuckled down and has completed::
A Christmas Throw - with reindeers no less
Ripple Blanket - cosy and much admired by MrWhitby
Patchwork Cushion - in purple of course
Reindeer Cushion - kitsch joy
A Handbag - yet to have the leather handles attached due to fear of the rather large needle required
Camellia Blanket - was a long time in the making as Danvers got bored
Ski Hat - too large for MrD so No:2 son was the recipient - see below

Danvers shall write again soon-ish, you know what she's like. Fickle, very fickle.

Perambulations in Bath

Ahhh Bath.
The most delightful city in England. Elegant, refined and stately, rather like Danvers in her finery. So it only seemed fitting that for Danvers 52nd birthday (yes i know, shocking ain't it?) Mr.D thought immediately of packing her and her many valises up into the charabanc and carting her off to this fine city for a spot of R and R and retail therapy.
Having spared no expense and throwing thrift to the wind in gay abandon, Mr.D obtained the very highest quality rooms at the genteel establishment of 'The Windsor' on Gt. Pulteney St. On her arrival, she espyed the sedan chair placed beside the entrance and Danvers immediately thought to herself  "I am so going to get one of those", thus setting the tone for the rest of her sojourn in Bath......she wanted everything in that rather unattractive Verucca Salt style she adopts when presented with more desirable objects than is good for her.

Dear Reader, you can but imagine Danvers' squeal of delight when, upon opening the door to her rooms she was met by a sumptuous four poster bed bedecked with chintz rose drapery, views over the stately avenue below and carpet deep enough to warrant Mr.D bringing his snorkel with him 'just in case' (small is beautiful but short can be dangerous).

"It's as near to home as i could provide for you my dear" said Mr.D coyly.  Danvers' smiled her smile and looked nervously about the room searching for the cobwebs and dust bunnies that pervade Danvers Hall but could find none, so she deduced that Mr.D needs a new contact lens prescription again and sighed with relief. She would indeed be at home here.

She Shopeth Til She Droppeth
Who could have possibly concieved of the retail delights of Bath if they had not seen them with their own eyes! Yeah verily, Danvers almost wept with emotion at the opportunities she would have utilising Mr.D's plastic in this trade heaven.............to be continued next week due to the untimely arrival of guests at Danvers Hall.