Busy busy busy

So the colours don't line up (though they didn't need to - thank you divided-notice-board). And I had an afternoon whacking my head against my keyboard because I didn't really want to add the information for this poster. It was better unadorned. And the snowflakes are not, in fact, each unique. Quite the reverse. But that was going to take a couple-of-days-job (it took several runs at it before it resembled the scene I was actually shooting for) rather than three weeks. And given it was only up for a week (and may be still up since I keep forgetting to take it down) and was only visible from the animal sanctuary cafe across the road, it probably wasn't worth it. But still. It turned out pretty good. Or at least, within a mile of how I imagined it.

Starting December as I mean to go on. In a way...

The chances of my posting throughout December are slim. I had planned to post regularly throughout November. I failed. I did, however, read the foreward, preface, and first chapter of Behold The Lamb of God: An Advent Narrative this morning, while sitting in bed, drinking Christmas tea, bathed in fairy light-glow. And I felt that I should mark the occasion.

Have a very Happy Advent.

Radio silence: Part IV: Mistley-palooza

So I'm making up for lost time.

After Mistley Movies came a pretty concentrated spell of work for the Mistley Church Hall Centenary. Now, here's the thing. Should you search online, you may well discover something of a lack of information about Mistley Church Hall. You can try to search for The Institute, which is what it used to be known as, but you'll find similarly little information. I did, however, find this picture, courtesy of the Essex Record Office.

It's actually of the whole of Mistley Quay, including our old friend, Mistley Towers. Check out the previous post for some pretty Robert Adam designs, and swoon over the neoclassicism. Try not to whistle the Pastoral Symphony and imagine multicoloured ponies. I dare you. Anyway. In the bottom right corner, half chopped off, there is Mistley Institute, or Church Hall. Google Street-view is the only other way that I've found to get an image of the hall. Here:

View Larger Map

I should say, to stave off any danger of being beaten by the nice man who runs the hall, that it looks much better right now. It has been freshly painted and looks, dare I say it, pretty good. This is, therefore, not a fair representation. Use your imagination.

Anyway. Long story short, this year is the hundredth birthday of the hall. I was asked to do an all-events poster, and then was asked to do one specifically for the Hog Roast and Barn Dance, and the tickets for said Hog Roast and Barn Dance. I got to flex my Seven Brides for Seven Brothersian muscles. Fun.

Having no decent pictures of the hall, I pieced one together off of Google Street-View (yes, I'm that dork) and then incorporated it into my line-drawing border. It came out pretty nicely, I think. I am a sucker for a proper script font. And calligraphy. And twirly bits. I should use a more technical term, but you know what I mean. 

 

My first attempt at this didn't come out very well at all, which was weird, given that pretty much every single one of the above elements was there. My Mum, however, gave me some sound advice, and after splitting up the text, making some bits bigger, some smaller, it came out pretty much like this. And then she told me to colour the images, and I objected, then tried it out, then reluctantly agreed. I think she might have been on the phone the whole while as well. Anyway, I was really pleased with this one. I cannot, however, take all the credit for the dancers. I adapted them from images I found which were, originally, 1950s embroidery patterns. I love these patterns. I think I may need to learn to embroider properly, just so that I can have cushions with these on. I did, however, tone down the fussiness of the girls. They originally had flowers on the dresses and bows in their hair which was all a bit too much. I also couldn't decide what colours to do their dresses, until, having decided on the boys' shirts, I then checked Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and matched the right shirts to the right dresses. Yes. I know. 

Naturally, the tickets then also had to match. You can't use all those fancy fonts and then do something in Arial. That's just not on. So I did these as well:

I actually designed them to be on white, but they were printed on colour, so I thought I'd recreate them, as they were. They took a while, but I was pretty pleased with how they turned out. I really enjoy doing this kind of writing. Until I get better at it, I semi-trace a good script font, adapt and add as I go, and then go back over it to thicken some lines and neaten others. I don't really write very well on an angle, so I really need to learn better. It's much easier on paper than a graphics tablet, for some reason. Practice, however, makes perfect. Or at least, better.

On the same theme, although not entirely related to the hall centenary, I was also asked to do this:

Again, the text was a big deal for me. I also discovered that I can't draw a single brass instrument from memory. Not entirely surprising, perhaps, with French Horns and Tubas, but surely I could have just about worked out how a trumpet looks? Uh, no. Being terribly self-referential, I wanted it to look like this, which, I suppose, in turn, had been supposed to look like this. I really enjoyed this kind of line drawings, though. I had been planning it on paper, and they came out pretty similarly, which was a nice look. I don't like them to look too clean and computer-ish. That said, I was also asked to do a Harvest poster for the church notice boards by hand. To make it more interesting, they had to go outside the notice boards, as we cannot currently get into them. I merrily got on with it, made stencils, sponged on jaunty harvest colours to the exact specifications of the notice boards. It was only two minutes before finishing that I remembered that the notice board was bigger than the A3 laminator to which I had access. In fact, it was more than twice A3. I would have had to chop it up into tiny rectangles before it would fit in that laminator. I kicked a few things. I stopped harking on about how much I was enjoying doing a poster by hand. I wistfully imagined just changing the size under 'Resize' and then printing the right size. I ate my dinner in gloomy silence. Then I spent all evening cutting up my poster and sticking it back together in a size that was laminatable. I even missed most of that episode of The Great British Bake-Off. All in all, a bad night, but the poster came out pretty well. All that, and I never got a photo of it. Thank goodness I can make things look pretty hand-drawn on the computer. Never again. Never. Again. 

Have a nice weekend.

Radio silence: Part III: Additional accidental radio silence

So I had a few problems trying to post last time, and I'll admit, it was quite the mammoth entry, and I suspect they both might be reasons as to why I forgot to post for a while. That was July. Now it's about to be October. Never mind. Never mind. I'm back. I'm here. I have a ton of things to post. See? My radio silence hasn't been because I was too busy watching Sleepless in Seattle  and playing Zoo Tycoon.  Except I have reinstalled it (somewhat dangerously) on my computer. And I did watch S in S last night. But that's beside the point.

So. I've had enough work since July that I've even opened a new file on my computer called 'Work'. It all feels very responsible.

So. First. The Mission Statement, aka, the one when Mary discovers that drawing people is really hard.

It's not that I didn't find drawing people hard before, but I rediscovered it. Boy oh boy. I was asked to do this for a friend's Mum's school, although unfortunately asked mid-facebook message, and so I forgot all about it for a few weeks until I was gently reminded. And then it was rather worryingly near September and so I had to work pretty hard on it. And then I rediscovered how hard it is to draw people. Especially when in a pyramid. This was my first attempt:

 

I had very lovely comments back, except it was pointed out that this was for an Infant School. Maybe I should have checked that first. Anyway, then I lost all confidence, and scoured the internet for pictures of celebrities with their infant school-aged children. And while I was at it, I lost all confidence about drawing people generally, so I found other celebrities who looked a bit like teachers and governors, hence why this school has, on staff, Paul Rudd, Zooey Deschanel, Doris Day, James Earl Jones and Dustin Hoffmann. Like any school really. Also, the M&S and Asda school clothing departments were a massive help. Thanks, guys.

The other thing that I was doing at about this point was the programme for Mistley Movies, our local community cinema project. I was asked to do the outside of the programme, so that the inside could be changed a few times during the season. Here's the front:

It was printed in black and white onto yellow which unfortunately somewhat lost the 20th Century Fox-esque spotlights, but this is how it was supposed to look. The drawing is of the Mistley Towers which was designed by fancy neoclassical architect, Robert Adam, and used to be the church before it was demolished, I think, because it was falling down. I kind of wish that it hadn't fallen down. It was so fancy:

It was supposed to be suitably fancy for the spa-town that Mistley was to become. I saw pictures this last weekend of the original plans. Think Bath, in miniature. Anyway, for anyone who doesn't know Mistley, I can attest: it is no spa-town. Lovely in its own right, and rammed with swans, but not a spa-town. Anyway. It was demolished around 1870 when the new church was built. The only bits that remain are the towers at either end. So this, and the swans, are pretty iconic of Mistley, and since I don't have the fondest of feelings for the swans, the towers got the film-premiere treatment.

You're welcome, Robert Adam.

Radio silence: Part II: Birthdays

Here's an interesting fact for you. I'm not sure that I've ever bought my parents or my siblings a birthday card. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I haven't. Not for me to give them anyway. They always get a hand-made offering. It's not as lovely as it sounds: my crippling inability to buy a card has resulted in some pretty spectacularly crappy cards. Several have looked as if I was seven. And not in a good way. Collages involving lentils and pasta. A lot of glitter (never a bad thing). You know the score.

So. I was tidying my room today (ready for operation: repaint and get my stuff from uni out, only three years after graduating) and came across various things. First, two offering from my brother which were GENIUS. The first was, well...




Yes. Brilliant. He made it in Publisher which my computer here does not have, hence the composite front cover and inside crafted on the magic of Photoshop. I think it was for my sister. They particularly have a strong and abiding love for Vanilla Ice. And why not. This was something of a throw back to our early computer days. Just as kids today don't know how to play outside because their games are all far too prescribed, they also don't know how to appreciate crappy computers. We had a trial version of Microsoft 3D Movie Maker. It had two characters, about three sets, two props and one piece of music. We made so much great stuff on that. It wasn't nearly such fun when we actually had a range of characters to choose from. Pride and Prejudice was never as good. Nor was Silas Marner. Anyway, that was already a MASSIVE step forward from our days of movies on PowerPoint. Yes, children, we used PowerPoint and those stick men on clip art. Remember them? I struggled to find one like the ones we had. Nowadays they're so specific. Ballerinas and babies and scoring goals. In my day they just gestured vaguely and you had to re-size and copy them into submission. So. This is what we did. That was until my brother got his hands on a copy of Photoshop. It was a vague and mysterious corner of computer geekery to me back then. It baffled me. Then, on my birthday, he presented me with these:

 

There is another one but the photo he chose to use of me was even worse than the other two so I have not deigned to share. I do, however, enjoy the unfortunate proximity of my hand to Warrick's ass: he doesn't look particularly impressed. Anyway, I was thrilled. He had printed them on high gloss paper and really nicely, so they looked like genuine photos. He presented them in a brown paper envelope with 'Evidence' written across it. I was in awe. 

So, this has all been a long and tortuous set up to the birthday-themed things I did this year.

First came Mum's birthday:

She had requested a printed copy of my sister's novel which she had been writing for years and just finished. My sister and I looked into various printing options and discovered that to have it properly printed was going to cost us a hideous amount so instead, we bought a massive stack of paper, binding rings and a new ink cartridge. While she did last minute edits, I designed the front cover for her. So:

 

There are a few things that I'd change now, and we were working within the restrictions of not wanting to use too much of the ink on one page, but I'm pretty happy with it. More than anything, I like how the word 'Albuquerque' looks. It pleases me.

So, Mum's birthday done, my brother's came next. He, much as I love him, is a pain. One year he banned an entire genre of presents. We tried to encourage him to take up a hobby that requires massive amounts of stuff that we could buy for him. He bought a ukulele. He has all he needs. Dang. So, anyway, twice a year, my sister and I sit in front of the computer, crying with laughter, trying to find ANYTHING to give him. He has come very close to getting some really odd stuff. This year, however, we were enlightened. We discussed, I used my mad skillz (such as they are) and we created this:

 

 For the refined CSI connoisseur, this is a cinch. For anyone else, it may be a little baffling. The green bug is CSI: Crime Scene Investigation: the original and, at times, the best. They use their green back-lights and their jars of creepy foetal pigs to excellent effect. Congratulations. The blue spiky lumpy thing is the Statue of Liberty, hence, CSI:NY: the third, most enjoyable and most over looked. They, too, have a love of blue back-lighting, but they add lots of glass and steel to it to make it look all cold and shiny. In the first series they also went with a weird Gothic theme. I searched online but couldn't find a picture of the original morgue. It was all tiled and vaulted and brilliant. Finally, sadly, the yellow sunglasses are the train-wreck that is CSI: Miami: it's wrong on so many levels but somehow, I know a lot of people who a) think it's the best of the three and b) largely because it's always sunny. It's not the sun, people. It's yellow back-lighting which, incidentally, spends a lot of time highlighting that the girls really need to brush their hair ( I feel so old). Also, surely the sunny jollity is somewhat tempered by the hideous murder. Is that different to my enjoyment of the CSI:NY team? I like to think so. Anyway, it is my ode to David Caruso and his Dickensesque caricature of himself.

Anyway, we gave it to him. He looked quizzically at it for a second then laughed, put it on, and now wears it often. Good boy. We also spent an entire afternoon crafting this: 

 

 The drawing was all my sister. Our scanner, however, is dreadful, so I had to go over the whole thing again before filling in all the colour blocks. Oh, and I did the title.

We based it on this brilliant picture, which is a still from the very beginning of Pixar's brilliant One Man Band. Watch it. It's one of my favourite things. Ever.

Then came my sister's birthday. Needless to say, you might have noticed that this year, there was a royal wedding going on. Maybe? Possibly? Well, actually, there were several (poor Monaco) but one in particular somewhat overshadowed the others. It also, in my sister's eyes, was looking dangerously like overshadowing her birthday as it was two days after her big day. She was not impressed. I'd say, in fact, that she was pretty annoyed. So. For her birthday, I bought her Will and Kate Top Trumps, naturally, although now, post wedding, they are seriously cheaper. Dang again. Anyway, I also made her this:

 

Thanks to the lovely people at Photobox it came out pretty well. And she was pleased. So I was pleased. Get in. So that was it. Three birthdays. Four projects. A bunch of stuff that turned up while I tried to tidy. A massive amount of tidying still to do. Dang once more.

 

Radio silence: Part I: Easter

So I've been away for, what, four whole months? No, I have not been lying around eating cheese and listening to Hanson. Well, not much. Not the cheese anyway. I thought it was high time I posted again with some of the stuff that I've been doing. So. First came Easter. I was asked to do the posters for my church:

These shouldn't have taken all that long. It was a lot of chopping and moving really. However, I kept on simplifying the text, and then needing to change it, so I had to go back and rewrite it again. I learned a good lesson on these. I also learned, incidentally, that Photoshop does not respond to my smacking my head on the keyboard. Strange. I also did a big Easter day poster, which I'm not sure was ever used, but I liked it:






















 In case you are horrified by the fact that they don't line up together, they were intended for a two part noticeboard. If you're horrified by my love of Rockwell, get over it. It worked. I also did this for the children at the local schools:

I was kind of proud of this one. It went through about ten drafts, and doesn't look here a lot like it did when I started, but I liked it. I'm not sure that we got any extra kids to church, but it was worth a try.

So. That was Easter. I'll share some more of the last four months soon. For now though, I've got lunch to make, Hanson to listen to (no, I'm still not kidding) and the sun to bask in. Have a nice day.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-Six: crossing the finishing line!

Creation. From an original story by God.

I've been thinking about this one for a while, and though I did have other (semi-crazy) plans for today, this one seemed right. I think I may revisit this one at some point in the future, not necessarily for picture book purposes.

So. The end of an era. A really short era, but still.

Thank you for all your comments and such. I've really enjoyed myself but, I think, the fun is not going to stop. Oh no. I'm considering setting myself another challenge. Maybe slightly less ambitious, maybe less to do, and maybe longer to do it, but I don't want to stop now. Please feel free to share any ideas you would have me do. I was given several ideas over this last month which never quite made it (see above for semi-crazy plans). They may all, at some point, appear. We shall see.  

Thanks again.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-Five

I didn't have a lot of time today between a massively successful trip to the book fair this morning and an evening out of board games and curry, and, inevitably, that meant that my plans went spectacularly awry.

I had been thinking of some kind of Arthurian legend, but then stumbled on the fact that almost every element of it is massively unsuitable for children. Then I got caught up in Inuit mythology, but I got all a bit confused, so finally moved on to local hero, Boudicca (with various alternate spellings) who also turned out to allude me. So. Finally Boudicca Jones appeared where I thought the Icini warrior would.

Reporter/investigator, Boudicca has sass, somewhere between Veronica Mars and Lois Lane (in her Teri Hatcher phase). I'm watching the first season of V Mars again at the moment. Boy, it's great.

We're winding up, folks. Thanks for hanging around. Tomorrow, all being well, is the last day. Given that I still have one day in lieu, I suppose I could spend all tomorrow prepping for it, and slam bang you on Monday. We'll see. Either way, by midnight, Monday, I'll be done.

So. Have a happy Saturday.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-Four

It's my Mum's birthday today. Ages ago, before she and my Dad married, he got Interflora to send her daffodils- her favourite flower. Daffodils are, as you may know, dirt cheap at this time of year. Interflora have a minimum price that you have to pay them. Therefore, in a scene reminiscent of that in Big Fish, he sent her a ton (almost literally) of daffodils. They ran out of vases at my grandparents' house. Therefore, ever since, Dad gets Mum lots of daffs for her birthday. Secretly, I find it very romantic.

So. Happiness. I think, maybe, just pictures of people, happy. Swings. Sitting in a pile on the sofa with their family. Puppies. No great story. Just smiles. Sappy, but good for the soul.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-Three

She's an Elk. He's a Caribou. Adventures ensue.

The name came from my parents who, for inexplicable reasons last night, referred to themselves as 'Jolly Elk' and 'Yoo Hoo Caribou'. In fact, Mum started off as 'Supreme Moose' but moved on. Supreme Moose might have been funnier. Too late now.

Big thanks go to Kimberly Geswein and her brilliant fonts.

Now I have to go and craft stuff for my Mum's birthday. Have a good day.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-Two

Self explanatory picture books always win out.

Monkeys take a while to draw. All that fur. That, and my mid-drawing trip to Pets at Home (actually Staples but that's not as interesting) which was a distraction, but did introduce me to the degu of which these are three, keeping warm:

  They were so impossibly cute that I thought about writing about them instead, but then I had done all that invaluable research on funny looking monkeys, and it couldn't go to waste. Maybe another day.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty-One

He's a magic post box. He talks. He reads your post. He might even solve a bit of crime. Who knows?

Full imaginative rights go to my good friend Rhiannon who appears to be having some kind of creative outpouring right now. Her post box wasn't magical though. He just talked. The two don't necessarily go together.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twenty

Happy Presidents' Day! I hope that whatever you celebrate today, be it Washington's birthday, Lincoln's birthday, Jefferson's birthday (two months out, but OK), or, in fact, that it's Monday and the week has begun again and unlike your American friends, you don't have a day off, that you will have a good day.

Here, a small child discovers that at night, Mt Rushmore comes to life and that the former Presidents have great wisdom which they can impart. I'm particularly proud of Lincoln here. That and the fact that FDR is pulling Blue Steel.

In researching it, I did find these little gems. First, what may be the coolest picture of Presidential stuff, ever.

That's right. Air Force One, over Mt. Rushmore. Why don't we have an equivalent in the UK? I mean, besides the Cerne Abbas Giant which I don't entirely want to post an actual picture of here. I'm really quite taken with the idea of crafting a Mt. Rushmore for the UK. According to historical rankings of Prime Ministers, our top four could include any of William Pitt the Younger, Gladstone, Churchill (he's surely a shoe-in), Margaret Thatcher, Atlee, MacMillan, Blair, Lloyd George, Asquith, or Heath.

Based on cliff-face aesthetics, I'd say that Gladstone's my number one choice. And Lloyd George. And Churchill. The others can fight it out for the last spot. Charles Grey came close to the cut. And Peel. And Disraeli. Robert Cecil also almost made it. I might have stretched the rule for that awesome beard of his.

The other gem I found was this:

It's the back of Mt. Rushore. Naturally.

Today's fun historical fact. Mt. Rushmore was created by Gutzon Borglum. I am not even kidding. That's his actual name. He also created this:

It's a confederate memorial carving. It is, wait for it, 3 acres in size, 400 ft above the ground. Yes. Massive.

So. In short. Happy Presidents' Day. Have a George Washington-tastic time.

Picture Book Marathon: DAY OFF

Woop. Twenty-six pictures in twenty-eight days equals two days off.
Sunday is the day of rest. I have learned this. They Might Be Giants reminded me.

Happy Sunday.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Nineteen

A sequel to 'Breakfast Forts'. Bunk beds as castles. Sofas as caravans. The wardrobe as a cave.

I feel sorry for kids who didn't have bunk beds growing up. We used to play a game called 'Wine Cellar' in ours. I haven't the foggiest about how it worked. Also, the dressing-gown cord tied from the bed to the door is essential. Again, I don't know why, but it was. The duvet hanging down was also essential, but I always understood that one.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Eighteen

The comings and goings from a small, homely bakery/sweet shop (I'll choose later) jammed between corporate monstrosities in a faceless city. Sticking it to the man, for the under fives, with full recognition to my good friend Rhiannon whose idea it was and also gave me a fake tour around London last night.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Seventeen

So. Yesterday, at four, I started freaking out that I hadn't even started drawing and posted a status saying as much on facebook. Then, my cousin and my old flat-mate started 'helping' me. Kat started with Hippos wearing hats, Lordly looking cats, Rhinestone crusted rats and Hamsters in cravats. Patrick chimed in with Marmosets in spats. Kat came back with Lace wearing gnats. I tried to contribute with Mouse Aristocrats. I was smacked down. They changed it to Goldfish aristocrats. I was dully chastened. Therefore, while the prospect of drawing gnats dressed in lace and marmosets sporting spats was slightly tempting, I went for a simple cover. I may have a go at the details another time. I watched some Sesame Street videos for inspiration. Check out my personal favourite, Preschool Musical  on the Sesame Street video player.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Sixteen

It is 88 years today since Howard Carter and his team unsealed the burial chamber of Tutankhamen. Therefore, in celebration of a guy who appeared from all the photos that I could find to conduct archaeological excavations in a full suit and fedora, I decided that today would see the combination of one of my favourite children's book genres, the puzzle book, with one of my other favourites, the pop-up/interactive book. Yes. A puzzle, pop-up book wherein we are called upon to help Howard Carter, fedora and all, to find the tomb of Tutankhamen with spinning wheels, mazes, and pop-up surprises galore. Howard's calm exterior masks a book of much excitement. I'm jazzed. Are you?

Picture Book Marathon: Day Fifteen

I doubt that it'll surprise anyone to know that I saw Tangled yesterday. It was, therefore, naturally, fairy tale homage time.

Queen Bee, one of the many Grimm Fairytales, tells the story of three brothers who go off to find their fortunes. The youngest stops his two older brothers from stamping on an ant's nest, kicking (or actually killing, but that's all a little too grim) ducks and smoking out a bee hive. Then, upon reaching the castle, they are set challenges which, if they do not complete, they will be turned to stone. The first is to pick up the princess' thousand pearls, scattered in the woods. The youngest brother gets his ant friends to help. Then they have to collect the key to the princess' bedroom from the middle of the lake. The ducks help out there. Finally, once in the bedroom, they have to pick out the youngest princess who looks identical to her two older sisters, the only difference being that the oldest ate some sugar, the next ate some syrup, and the youngest ate HONEY. See where it's going? The Queen Bee helps out and the youngest princess is chosen. The magic of it all turns the brothers and everyone else back to life and they all live happily ever after, all marrying their respective princesses. THE END.

I really enjoyed Tangled. I think that it's the best Disney movie since The Lion King. Maybe even since Beauty and the Beast. Yes. Bold. One of my favourite things (aside from the look, the lighting, the hilarity, the lack of talking animals, the ceramic unicorns, the tight plot, the fancy 3Dness, the lanterns with the fancy 3D, Alan Menken generally, the mime...) was the design of the inside of Rapunzel's tower which she had painted because she was so bored. It was beautiful and ornate, yet simple, so I took it as my inspiration. It came out pretty much as I had imagined- somethings better, some more things not quite as good but hey- that's what I'm doing this for anyway.

I should mention, reluctantly, that my Mum thought that this should be called 'You can't have my beehive. Let's go to that castle'. I have managed to not find it funny so far today. I will strive to not find it funny tomorrow as well.

I should also mention, in retrospect, that the castle was not my own invention. I tried and failed. Neuschwanstein which is seriously replicated in Tangled was my inspiration today. I love it. I did a presentation on it at university. Poor mad Ludwig. Such vision. So many swans. So much Wagner.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Fourteen

Happy Valentines Day!

I was feeling totally uninspired for today. I was trawling the internet for ideas. I liked the idea of a Valentines theme, but it's not until you actual look for ideas that you discover that Valentines Day a) inspires little originality and b) is, in the main, massively inappropriate for children.

While searching I did, however find this vintage Valentine which is pretty brilliant and this one, which while I haven't read the whole thing, is pretty romantic.

However, in the midst of all the searching, I stumbled across a friend who has just brought his two week old son home from hospital, who told me that my inspiration should come from the snowdrops, the daffodils and all the ripe nappies that he's dealing with. So. Romantic. However, he also posted pictures of said son which, while I won't post them here, did feature the toy mole that my sister and I made for him:

 

So. Valentines Day. Moley. It all came together. I think that Moley probably discovers Cupid, injured, and offers in a helpful sort of way to do his job for him. Hilarity ensues. Probably. 

Have a very happy Valentines day.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Thirteen

Half way through! Woop!

I had meant to do some kind of Biblical-heroine/hero-Sunday again, but instead I got a little too excited about an idea given to me yesterday. Biblical heroes may turn up again, but today I was working from a quote from Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm (1932):

"He stood at the table facing Flora and blowing heavily on his tea and staring at her. Flora did not mind. It was quite interesting: like having tea with a rhinoceros."

Today's book chronicles an increasingly irrate mother as her family exhibit behaviour which is more suited to a zoo than a house- blowing in tea etc. I rather suspect that it might end up being something of an anti-valentines sentiment, with her husband snoring like a warthog. I think it should end (not to spoil it) with her becoming a zoo keeper. I love a story with a zoo keeper in it. They're so aspirational. There was an episode of Animal Park when a trainee lion keeper tried it out for the day and then decided that it wasn't for him. What's not to enjoy? Lions. Keeping them. I was baffled. 

Picture Book Marathon: Day Twelve

This is a quizzing book for the young. The kind that any parent would immediately regret reading at bed-time as their children would get wound up, wanting to know what Binturongs really do smell of rather than, you know, going to sleep. The title, as given to me by the Susie of the title, was 'Quizzard Quizzing with Susie' which, while pleasing, did not inspire anything for the front cover. Except a picture of Susie, playing Quizzard.

If you are wondering what 'Quizzard' is, here is a picture from board game geek:

My Gran found our copy at a jumble sale, gave it to us, then reaped the whirlwind. It is quizzing, with buzzers. Genius. The buzzers make it all the more competitive. And dangerous. Except, to add to the hilarity, the questions are a good thirty years out of date. Half of them are now wrong. However, this has never stopped us.

This book may have been requested, but it does represent one of my favourite all time groups of book:

The PUZZLE BOOK.

I love them. Seriously. I always have. There's something so entertaining about them, and yet there's still a story going on, in and amongst the code breakers and mazes. I was given several of the Usborne Young Puzzles when I was little, but the ones I really liked and rediscovered this summer, having given two of them to my twenty-five year old brother, were the Agent Arthur books. We spent a week in a caravan in Yorkshire not reading our worthy grown-up books but, in fact, reading about Agent Arthur and solving his way across an island and through the desert. It's amazing how hard they make some of the puzzles, given that they're designed for children. In fact, it's slightly embarrassing. However, this does not dissuade me from wanting to write my own. If not Mount Quizzard, there's another one planned. It may turn up sometime before March. Otherwise, it may become a longer term project.

Have a puzzling good weekend adventurers.

Over and out.

Picture Book Marathon: Day Eleven

A gritty expose into the truth about dinosaurs: robots, operated by rodents. Of course.

Really, this is a hideous insight into how my mind works. It went:
Google home page-Thomas Edison-Heath Robinson-(twenty minutes looking at Heath Robinson pictures)-Wikipedia front page-Albertosaurus (blame Wikipedia front page) and then some ransom clicking while thinking which suddenly amalgamated them. I also went through ideas about robot mice and robot ghost frogs. Robots were quite prevalent today.

The Albertosaurus was heavily inspired/copied by the Wikipedia reconstruction. I was intending to just be inspired by it, and before I knew, it had reappeared, filled with engineering mice.

I should also say, this is my dream book. I loved books about mice living in mansions in strange places when I was little, (and in all honesty, now too) and you'd be surprised just how many books there are in that genre.