Forty

Ha! The last picture has to be a heart because the app's gone wierd on me and I can't figure out how to get it in a normal grid!! 

We wandered into Brooklyn this afternoon with a vague plan of mooching round thrift stores but neglected to take any pre-prepared plan nor any guidebook. With the premature dying if Naomi's phone we found ourselves a little lost but never the less had a nice time walking in the sun. 

We stumbled across this rather sweet pop up market with approximately 3 1/2 stalls and I'd post more pics if the damn Diptic would allow. 

The cross has been yarn bombed and the very stones are poised to cry out in the Easter garden masterpiece of the Church of thev Living Hope. All we have to do is get up at 5.30am for the sunrise service. He is Risen indeed. 

Thirty nine

Nearly there. Feels a little busy for proper Good Friday reflections - two museums to do (Tennement and MOMA), the bright lights of NYC to see in the evening and posh dinners to eat with friends all in the list for today. 

But it was nice to spend an hour at the cross earlier with a beautifully rich woman New Yorker voice reading the Jesus part and fantastic extemporary prayer over 'Lord Jesus Christ your light shines within us' being chanted. Very moving. 

We narrowly missed a 'tenebrae' service for our freebie visit to MOMA which I feel a bit sad about but it was great to get to the museum - will just have to find a tennebrae service in London next year. 

Thirty eight

Nice little mooch around a couple of thrift shops in East Harlem this morning with the boys while E and A went for a tour around the UN with Naomi and Chris. 

The boys were delighted to leave the first with a baseball cap and super shades each! 

There used to be another up on 125th at the Salvation Army but it seemed to have closed. Left a little Lenten heart there though for them - on Dr Martin Luther King Jnr Boulevard. 

And saw another on the subway drawn by someone. Here are the pics. 

Thirty seven

Awesome day for being at the top of the tallest building in New York. Such fantastic views all around and blue skies everywhere. Ye hay! 

I made a heart today out of yarn rescued from Ali's stuff after she died. It's 8 years today if you count the anniversary as the Wednesday of Holy a Week. Trust her to have two anniversaries (with the other on 4th April). 

We remembered her in the family prayer time the Lawrence family do each morning at breakfast (so impressed they manage this!) and it felt pretty nice to leave 'her' heart swinging over the city. 

Thirty six

Yay! Times Square. Good to be able to mooch around Down Town - hang out in Times Square, look out over Central Park from the Time Warner building, wonder at the ceiling of Grand Central Station and try and contain childrens' spending at FAO Schwartz. 

N and I even got a night out too enjoying extremely good steak at Ricardos in Harlem. All good. 

Thirty five

'Went to Staten Island, Sharon, to buy myself a mandolin' or so sang Joni Mitchell (in Song for Sharon - which I realise is a whole ten verses long. Just goes to show you can never get too much of a good thing!). 

So, we went to Staten Island too but mainly to see if the free ferry ride would give us a good enough shot at the Statue of Liberty to save us paying for the pleasure, rather than to but any particular musical instrument. 

I did get the family on a bus to find the mandolin shop and we did buy a plectrum or two but thought that $179 for a uke seemed a bit steep for novices of the Clapton Park Ukulele Band. 

It was a little stressful having K strumming away on €5000 guitars but the staff seemed amazingly laid back about it - probably cos they are the cheap ones!! 

Thirty four

You'd think that after 30 days I'd be better at remembering to a) take the heart out with me and b) actually out it up somewhere. But it doesn't seem that way. 

Took a couple of hearts out today especially to leave one somewhere in Central Park but despite spending a couple of hours in the evening sunshine I totally forgot to leave the heart anywhere. 

I only remembered at The Giant Daffodil on 104th St. So I secured it to the back corner of the same chain link fence as some sort of mini solidarity gesture. Those fences. There's something quite grim about them especially when they surround schools or playgrounds. So nice that Naomi is brightening them up so brilliantly. 

Thirty two and thirty three

The wonderful Guggenheim did not disappoint. The spiral staircase is awesome though a little alarming at the top where the bannister side is only just up to my waist and the unprotected view to the atrium makes your stomach lurch. 

The sweep to the very top corner is a little wierd though, finishing as it does outside a toilet!! Thought it could use a little brightening up! Though one of the regularly placed gold water fountains also made its presence felt as the zenith if the journey skywards. 

N and I got to sneak back out down 5th Ave to the newly refurbed Design museum, Cooper and Hewitt, to take advantage of their pay what you wish afternoon. Great selection of interactive displays looking at the interaction if objects and people. May have to take the kids back there. 

Thirty one

Hearts on the High Line! New York City is where the next few hearts are gonna be though I'm reminded if their insignificance when compared to another yarn bomber working in the neighbourhood. 

Naomi's latest addition to the East Harlem fence landscape is a beautiful 5 foot daffodil! 

We were all a bit sleepy today after having approximately 3 hours sleep but we enjoyed negotiating the subway for the first time to get down to the High Line and wafer right along it. But cold though. Should have planned a bit better for that. 

Meant to take another heart, in catch up mode, to the kids' school dance performance but couldn't find it in my bag after all. Great to see them in a place prioritising learning and encouragement, blossoming ang growing beautifully. 

Thirty

Oh dear. Meant to do a bit of catching up in Hackney. We are off to NYC today for the remainder of Lent and I am suddenly feeling I haven't left quite enough hearts around our neighbourhood. Meant to leave another at the church (to replace one already removed) and on Lower Clapton Road (to replace one already removed) and down nearer the community house (to replace one already removed). Do you see a pattern here gentle reader? I am of the opinion that there's a jobsworth council worker, or super efficient graffiti removal outfit, operating south of the lower Clapton Rd. Everything Chatsworth Road end seems to stay put, more or less. But every piece of Lenten or Easter or Pentecostal yarmbombing we've ever put out down nearer to Hackney central lasts barely 24hrs. 

Tra la. Maybe Heathrow could use a little Lenten blessing? Certainly people who work in the business as well as those of us flying this week probably feel we will take all the blessings we can get after that terrible plane crash in the Alps. Mmm better not dwell on that for next 12 hrs! 

Twenty nine

The very wonderful lower Clapton Health Centre today. On our way back from swimming at Kings Hall. 

I think they're quite similar to each other, these two institutions: both have terrible ugly and decrepit buildings which aren't so much in need of repair as in need of being flattened and raised from the rubble. Both have pretty dire administration systems - for booking lessons or appointments - which are totally flummoxed if you try to do  anything out of the ordinary. Both have mostly dire admin personnel who are rude jobsworths. Both have one or two glorious exceptions to this. And both have key staff (ie the swimming teachers, Drs and nurses) who are totally amazing at what they do and deliver an amazing service in far from ideal situaitions. 

Twenty eight

When I was rummaging for a heart to place today I realised I should have saved yesterday's for today... to give to Pilar as a memento of her impossibly difficult trip to London for a second memorial service for her beloved Saul. 

In the event we were all crying so much, and hugging, and chatting to people we hadn't seen for years, that I just totally forgot to give her even this one, which I then carried around in my bag all day. 

Heaven alone knows how I'll ever get it to her now. Very annoyed with myself. 

So good to see her after nearly a decade. And Eidi, and Saulito too. But Saul's death still feels so shocking and wrong... even for me on the edge of their lives. Must pray for them still... and for their other baby, Armonia, as they try to imagine its future without that incredible power house and visionary leader.  

Twenty seven

Think this is my most beautiful heart. I think it's all in the yarn. Good yarn = good crochet. Metaphor for life there somewhere.

Glad it found it's way to Chats Palace. It's been a little gem in the neighbourhood since the 70s. Always struggling with funding and reinventing itself, but a constant in an ever changing street. Saw that there is now a wine shop - the Brahms and Liszt - added to the collection. But I think after the antiques shop nothing will surprise me. 

Boys who accompanied me down Chatsworth, to the library past the Palace, were suitably embarrassed by their mother fixing a purple crocheted heart to the fence. Job done.

Twenty five and Twenty six

Oh my. Getting ahead of myself. Two hearts today and no days to make up means only one thing: pre-emptive Lenten discipline. 

Actually managed to do one outside Hackney Town Hall today (if previous yarn bomb efforts there are anything to go by it won't be there still by the morning!) so another in the same evening was a little unnecessary. 

I went to a meeting called Hackney - a better place for all. Convened by Hackney council, but with their involvement slightly down played, it sounded like a great Question Time type debate with an opportunity for a cross section if the diverse Hackney community to peel back some of the complex layers of the changes in the borough over the last 5-10 years. 

It was mostly a chance for Hackney Council to launch their next 4 year strategic plan, of the same name, and pat themselves on the back for 'community consultations' at the same time. TBH the panel were v impressive and said lots of sound things (including the mayor, whom I've never seen 'in action' before) but it did turn out to be a bit of an agreement fest. Lots of people of 'good will' there - all with jobs or trusteeships in the social/community sector - doing what they can to make Hackney a better place. But big, big fundamental challenges like housing, employment, and youth disaffection continue to raise their ugly heads and they all need London- and country-wide solutions and won't be ever fixed by a small group of Hackney-philes such as those gathered tonight. 

Anyway, couldn't resist a little act of community resistance by putting up a heart in the toilets of City Academy where the panel met. Might even go back tomorrow for a school meeting on 'educating the whole child' something I think City hasn't quite nailed yet. I wonder if it'll still be there?? 

Twenty four

Took this one all the way to Leyton Mills today so I could finally leave one out there in the wasteland of superstores' carparks but then forgot to put it anywhere! 

So this is another on the way to school - and I was a little perturbed to see a proper photographer taking a picture if it when I walked back having met the boys from school. I know he was a proper photographer because he got down and lay on the pavement to take a better shot of it. As I got closer I reslised he was trying to take a shot of it with the dilapidated Escort (held together with gaffa tape) parked outside the deeply trendy black painted house which stands right next to the not at all trendy fuschia pink house. Probably illustrating some news article on the gentrification of Hackney. Ugh. Probably doesn't give a s***t those two home owners have been here at least as long as each other - and certainly as long as I have. Which is 18 years this summer. Oh my. 

Twenty three

Weekly pilgrimage to Kings Hall. The smelliest swimming pool in the Known World. Mr Middle cries off. Again. Sore tummy this week. Mr K skips off - one part of the Terrible Trio now reunited since the latter two finally made the stage 5 benchmark - happy in the knowledge he will Have Fun and Not Listen to a Word the Teacher Says. Poor Marnie! I wish I had nominated her as one of those Olympic Comminuity Champions. She certainly deserves it - her and Johnny and Chung and Matthew. My heroes. 

Twenty Two

Commemorating our family's love/hate relationship with gymnastics, this twenty second heart sits on the railings of the Queensbridge leisure centre. They started a new gym class recently, which I was very excited about having looked high and low for one for K to go too, since he was already doing somersaults off the sofa. The first day we rocked up he went into general meltdown, understandably given it was, in the main prompted by the fact that the class was entirely populated with 12 year old girls. I handled it terribly badly and things haven't particularly picked up from there! E took his place willingly, which found us trekking out to Dalston for a Saturday morning class for the one member of our family who's social calendar couldn't possibly fit anything more in. 

Eventually I noticed a few boys attending, and when a space came up I booked K in. Some days he goes willingly, some days he refuses point blank. When he's there he seems to love it. And he's good at it. I don't pretend to understand. He's already talking about parkour so maybe I'll be able to keep him at gym for a while. At least until he can scale 6 feet walls in a single bound. Yikes. I wonder what City Academy will make of him (and him of it!!).

Twenty One

Poor Dahling Daughter got roped into today's heart hanging. I hadn't quite got around to doing it when she was suddenly leaving for youth group around the corner. With her new ipad in tow she's happy to take pictures of anything, so I think that helped her agree to the favour of hanging a heart on her way.

It was a bit dark so the picture is a bit grainy. May have to revisit to try to get a better one before it's removed. This is in the location of our very short lived yarnbomb so I don't expect it to be around for long.

I've been pretty bad, this year, at keeping up the one a day lark. I think I'm letting it go more easily. I don't know what that says about my Lenten daily discipline. I think I have a very strong 'the Sabbath was made for people, not people for the Sabbath' understanding, so I err on the side of not letting it rule me. But that basically does make for not being able to keep to the commitment of one a day. No wonder I can never give up anything for Lent. Giving in is so much more noticeable than not doing. Sins of commission worse than sins of omission? 

(Photos shows all that's left come Monday night!) 

Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

Eighteen sees another on the rather lovely cycle route I take every day to work. The Regents Canal was a bit of a dive when I started cycling along it regularly 12 years ago, and to be honest if I'm cycling late at night I still avoid it, but mostly it's undergone the same radical transformation that we have seen in other places in East and North London.

The ducklings and baby moorhens haven't changed much though. Nor have the Canada geese or multiple swan pairs with their fluffy, fawn, cygnets. And I still, from time to time see a heron and a cormorant, so the increased number of house boats and smart apartments with balconies and coffee shop concessions can't have affected the wild life too much.

The luminous yarn reminded me of my luminous self, bowing as I do to safety wear for my two wheeled travelling across London. It had gone by the time I passed back in the afternoon on my way home though. Mmmm. I think you get longer if you leave it a little high up or a little low down. At hand height is probably just too tempting.

Nineteen - My poor, first attempt, of a heart... finds a home on a plant at Friends House in Euston. I expect the next time the plant man comes to care for his charges it will be swiftly removed. I can't say I'll miss it. From the, also slightly rubbish, picture you can't even see it's a heart!

Twenty - a much improved specimen for the lovely courtyard at Friends House. My colleagues and I are beginning to enjoy the sunny balcony lunchtime breaks again. Not many places you can have animated lunchtime conversation about a singing demo against Trident at the Houses of Parliament or wrapping up the Ministry of Defence in pink knitting. 

Seventeen. Eighteen??

Just when I thought I was all caught up (well apart from posting two today!) and I realise I've miscounted already. You'd think that after 4 years of marking Lent in a daily capacity I'd have this counting thing sorted. I blame it on holidays and marking Ash Wednesday in a bit of a rush between tea and Star Wars on our holiday. I only started counting the day after when, duh, the first day of Lent is Ash Wednesday itself.

So I find I should have left another heart somewhere as well as these two. It'll have to be catch up again tomorrow. 

I was rather pleased to spot a) my early one at school is still there and b) a little way down the fence one of the recycled plastic ones from last year is still there too. I've not spotted it before. To mark the I occasion I left the one for today on a bike rack outside our local. There's one from last year there too - looking a little faded and jaded to be honest. Maybe I should take it down and leave only the fresh one?

Sixteen

We have this mentoring thing at church. Another great initiative of the wonderful Justin and Valerie who've nurtured this tiny group if young people so beautifully whilst they've been here. Valerie asked then all to find an adult in the congregation who they might ask to mentor them. I was honoured to be asked the sweet and sassy and spiritually alive but sometimes silent M. But I've been a bit rubbish at organising meeting up together. 

So it felt good to be able to arrange to go to see Open Bethlehem at Hackney Picture House together. I've seen it before (and I'm, ahem, in it. Briefly) but M's parents are keen for their girls to be wide awake to this issue and so it was an ideal date. Only poor love was ill and couldn't come and I could only 'enjoy' it with my own daughter and her mentor and M's mum and little sister! 

Good job I'd been free to escort her at the last moment to her piano exam earlier in the day! At Homerton station I saw this other little crafty offering for Gaza. Craftivist Collective mebbe?? 

Anyway. Love Gaza. Open Bethlehem. Who could argue to do anything but? 

Nearly wreaked N's evening by being late home as I forgot he was planning to go out too. Blimey. February and March have been insanely busy. Not sure that's a good thing in Lent. 

Eleven to fifteen

Round up for the week!

No. eleven is on The Regents Canal - part of my rather lovely cycle to work. I'm hoping it will stay there for a while so I can enjoy it when I struggle past against the wind.

Twelve is a bit limiting in 'reach' stuck as it is on the clothes rack at work! Colleagues at Friends House deserve a cheery heart though. I'm hoping it might stay put slightly longer than the 2 'You are Beautiful' stickers which I stuck up in the building one Lent. All that's left of those is a bit of a sticky residue in the lift and the second floor ladies bathroom. Ooops.

Thirteen finds itself in the wilds of Oxfordshire in a tree outside my sister's palatial vicarage. Well, palatial by Hackney standards. Quite pokey by Pangbourne standards! Her and her family of heroes looked after our three whilst N and I swaggered off to our friends 50th birthday party on Reading University campus. 50th?? Yes, that's the number one social gathering we get invited to these days. (With the odd 40th thrown in for good measure). It feels as scary as hell. But they seem to have more free wine at 50ths than 40ths or 30ths. Champagne, even, in this case. Shame I offered to drive! 

Fourteen graces the RUSU - the Reading University Student's Union. Ha! I bet that doesn't stay up for long. I can almost imagine a Mr Filch like character combing the building after hours every night confiscating anything which isn't official. It was weird to be back. I don't think I've been back inside the Union building since I graduated in (ahem!) 1991. I'm sure I haven't danced to some of the tunes we were boogeying too since then either. Great selection of golden oldies. And a great jazz band from Martin's son's school playing too. Got a bit teary about it as I do every single time I hear young people performing. Can't help wondering whether Mr Middle will find a love of music and/or performing when he goes to secondary school next September. Would have liked to have brought the kids back in the car to the campus on Saturday morning for a little wander and wonder at it all. It's changed so much - I couldn't even really orientate myself. Oh well, weekend too full with other things (not to mention a fab time and the very lovely Olympic Aquatic Centre for E's late birthday bonanza - such a beautiful building, and so fab that it's accessible to all. We had a ball on their floating assault course!).

And fifteen is on the railings of our church, Clapton Park URC, back in Hackney. I seem to remember that last year I mostly put the hearts up at night, returning to Hackney most evenings, and somehow wanting the hearts to be mostly around my own neighbourhood. Maybe it's how I started this year, but I feel much more excited about the idea of them finding homes far and wide this year. One or two around here, for sure, but maybe it'll be fun to spread the lurrrve a bit wider. Probably a good job considering that during the last week of Lent I will find myself in the East Harlem district of NYC. Yippee! Getting quite excited now (and into the swing of the idea this afternoon with the Great Chrysler Building Build-Off - below!). Though TBH my mini Lent yarnbombing will immediately pale into insignificance in comparison to Naomi's!!.  

   

Ten

Uh oh. Got to day nine OK but now have missed one and am playing catch up. 

So this is really Tuesday's. And it's for the Homerton Library staff and users. I do think libraries are such amazing places. And we are blessed at Homerton with some great staff too. This was personified in one recently when I rocked up looking for a Harry Potter audio book. They didn't have the right one on the shelf but undaunted Jan half whispered to me 'I've got them all at home. I'll bring it in for you to borrow.'  #beyondthecallofduty

What the government were doing closing a whole load I do not know. Decisions made by people who have never had to rely on public places to gain their education or cultural enrichment. 

Nine

The eldest left her zip card at home this morning. She needed it to go to Islington for a race with the school's running team. So I biked it over, like the good mother I am. And, as an added bonus, it gave me a chance to leave a sneaky heart on her school railings. 

I realise this is the way to do school railings. Old school brick plus a little bit of wrought iron!! Mix in a couple of beautiful mosaics and Bob's your uncle. 

Today's the day when thousands of kids found out about their secondary school place. We are feeling relieved but many are disappointed. It's tricky to know what's going to be best for your children when they're just 10. They're in such flux at that stage. So, Mr M will be able to wear a blazer and walk to school. His two boxes ticked. But how he'll feel when the sock inspection and long extended days kick in I don't know! 

Nine

I was quite looking forward to placing this one in a super considered way as part of a reflective walk in the neighbourhood which we normally do during our 'church away day at home'. This Saturday we had our annual beginning of Lent day together but unfortunately we didn't do the spiritual walk. We did make a rather lovely spotty cross, have some interesting discussions about suffering and enjoy eating together and a high class cabaret (which featured Mr M in six different acts!!) but just no nice walking in the sunshine. 

So I stuck it on the pipes in the ladies loo. I didn't find it an edifying experience, to be honest. Those loos need a little love and attention if you ask me. Well, at least they have a bit of love now!! 

Lovely heart though, dontcha think? Made by the lovely teenager in my life. 

Eight

What are we doing with our schools in the city? Leaving this heart at Jen's kids' school I feel like I'm looking at a prison. All this 8m high green fencing. Everywhere. It's so oppressive. Made worse, for sure, at night with everything also padlocked. And my kids' school is just the same. Big high fences on top of a big high brick wall. 

Are we trying to keep them in or trying to keep them out? 

Surely there are other ways of keeping our children safe at school? 

Enjoyed talking to our wonderful social worker friends tonight. They are my heroes. They do such an amazing job with extremely challenging people and in very difficult circumstances often. 

Heard from him how his work with kids in primary schools is going. Very exciting to hear that professionals from the borough's mental health team are intervening in troubled kids lives at this crucial cross over time of year 6. 

We all hear on Monday what new schools our intrepid year 6s will go to. Think Jen's, like ours, is quite a safe bet - we've both chosen our nearest school. But at least with ours the catchment area is so tiny that it is possible Mr M won't get in. Tra la. Poor boy was crying tonight as he contemplated that possibility. He just can't imagine going anywhere else, mostly because he has no idea where any other school is and thinks he'll get lost on the way. Bless 

Maybe a little orange heart will bring some cheer to the Monday morning school run? In preparation for the hard decisions that lie ahead for families who don't get their first choice. 

Seven

Moral of the story tonight: don't leave the heart when it's dark - the photos are crap.

I know this. I knew it when I went out. I knew it when I was home after school pick up and could have gone to do it in the light.

But I  p  r  o  c  r  a  s  t  i  n  a  t  e  d.

I am quite good at that. I realise that the leaving of the blooming thing is the hardest bit for me. I don't know why. I have suspected it for a while. In the Chatsworth Road stars advent projects I've always enjoyed going with someone else. I realise that is because I can then just pretend I'm some sort of side kick. Not a crazy lady leaving hearts on random trees.

To make matters worse I leave this heart with a heavy heart of my own after an unpleasant encounter on my doorstep. One of these guys selling overly expensive cleaning products door to door arrived. I was in the middle of something and felt annoyed for being disturbed so I said 'thanks but no thanks'. He just wouldn't take no for an answer, and started saying that it was always 'no' when he called at this house, that my husband never bought anything either, that I had no idea how hard it was trying to make a living. I have to say even though I wasn't on my own in the house I found his aggression quite intimidating.

I have, in the past, bought stuff, thinking it's a bit of a Big Issue type thing with people working hard to earn a wage, so I felt pretty crap - for being shouted at and for being mean.

But I never really know what the score is with them. I googled it. I find Tim Dowling of the Guardian has endured worse. And loads of people ranting about it in various forums. I have yet to find anything from any 'official' source, but there were one or two suggestions that these guys can even be working in gangs, and maybe coercing youngsters into doing it. I wish I had the balls to grab the ID of these guys and really check it out in front of them. Mind you who knows what may have happened. He was shirty enough as it was.

Ho hum. Rach has decided to follow suit with Naomi and arranged some random acts of generosity for Lent. I like the idea but I'm not very good at generous. Certainly tonight I didn't feel very generous.

Six

On the occasion of my eldest's entry into teenage-hood it felt only right to leave a heart in her favourite colour at Homerton Hospital where 13 years ago today she came into the world. 

Her grandmother (my mum) also arrived in our world on this day.  76 years ago. I think her mum (whom Esta is named for) had her in a maternity home. Somewhere between a care home and an hotel by all accounts. Kay Esther Styles went in for at least a week to have her baby, her second of four girls, sometime in late February 1939. I remember her saying how wonderful it was to be cooked for, to be made to lie in bed and to escape the family melee. Sounds like a nightmare to me. 

The Homerton only kept me in overnight (and that was only under duress) as Esta had pooed in the uterus. But there was a builder and building site outside my door and no one brought me tea in bed.

I feel very grateful to have a good hospital on the doorstep, though I have friends who have not felt well served by it. Our NHS seems to be on such shaky ground. It still feels like an amazing institution but who is caring for it long term? Seems to me that the Tories are just continuing the long slow sell out that Tony Blair begun.

Five

February seems full of birthdays for our family. Lots of family and friends are celebrating now. Including little Hattie, a full 9 years and 364 days younger than my daughter.

I had mixed feelings as I arrived at her 3rd birthday party. I would see a couple of friends - parents of her small buddies - because I remember now, parents don't leave 3 year olds on their own at birthday parties. Not if they want to get invited next time. That was good. I also remembered the angst I sometimes felt having parents hanging about at the party and feeling like you had to entertain them too. And the angst of having many very young children in the house all at once with their own happiness/unhappiness being displayed in countless ways. And the angst of having my own 3 year old literally not wanting to come down to say hello to guests because she was so overwhelmed. All that is behind me now and that felt good.

But there was still a little nagging sadness.  A longing for those days. When we threw glitter around the room, mashed the cocktail sausages into the floor, oohed and aahed at the terribly cute kids, washed it all down with more beers than was probably decent, and felt completely at one with the world once everyone had gone home.

It also threw up the awkward truth that although we have a record of A1 parties from previous years I have been beaten by forces beyond my control and find myself on the eve of my daughters 13th birthday without a party planned and not a single friend invited.

Said nearly 13 year old occupied herself happily, with her buddy of nearly 10 years, face painting any of the toddlers they could persuade. And when they (quite quickly) ran out of willing victims they occupied themselves happily painting themselves. Maybe that could count as her birthday party? I didn't have to look after any of the 3 year olds, didn't have to entertain the adults, was given a glass of cava and didn't even have to clear up. Bargain.  

So, the heart today rightly found a place on Hattie's gold front door. 

Four

Lovely to see new trees planted at the fab school which is Millfields Community School. Apparently they came from the Olympic Park. It's meant slippery mud all over the already lethal playground and a bit of a headache for the Headteacher for some mysterious reason (no doubt connected with the rather complicated playground refurbishment) but really fabulous to have some trees at long last. 

I wanted to add a star to their branches, but was worried that kids might try to pull it off and wreak the tree in the process, so I abstained. The fence near the one original tree and play boat had to make do. The things I've left around the school don't tend to last long. Darren is too efficient a school keeper! Oh well, for a while it toned nicely with the wonderful flower mural (thanks to ArtBash's Linda).

(Practical note: Was really enjoying the fact I didn't have to weave in ends after making the hearts as it's my absolutely worst bit of crocheting - and I'm rubbish at it - but it's difficult to tie them on cleanly with their ends poking out. Darn it - may have to weave in and finish off properly after all.)

Three

Oh the wild open space of Blakey Ridge - just miles and miles of sky and moor. Makes you feel like you're on top of the world. I wasn't sure how I felt trying to 'add' something to the beauty. I liked leaving this bright heart there. But did I ruin the view? It's a different thing to leaving little crafty loveliness in the city. It made me think differently about why I am doing this. Made me want to notice more of my surroundings, cherish the moment a bit more, think about my insignificance in the big picture. 

Just a short walk today - a three miler at most I guess. Despite the sun it was very windy and blooming cold. Very welcome victuals at the rather lovely Lion Inn. It was snowing when we came out again. Time to leave unless you want to get stuck there.  

 

Two

 "Oh this walk! I love this walk!" exclaims the middle one as we leave the train station and head on a well worn path up through forest in the valley.

This is the joy of returning year after year to the same spot. It feels good to be able to engender this in my children. A love of walking, a love of the English countryside, a sense of family traditions. 

We first chose this walk when they were young enough to be carried. Not too far to walk for little legs and not to far to have to carry them if needs be. It also meant we got to enjoy the steam train out of Pickering for a short journey, to match their attention span and our purses. So, we return once more to that 'Harry Potter' station, though glimpses of Levisham in the films masquerading as Hogsmeade are rather fleeting.

We extended the walk today. For a bit of light relief. And because a new walk from the previous day had taken us just short of where we normally break for lunch on Levisham Moor. It seemed fun to 'join them up' if only because we could. 

But it was a bit nippy, and the fun at Skelton Tower less protracted than we have made it in previous years. I had to start running to keep warm, something I have often found myself doing on these stretches of moorland over the myriad visits I have made. Wild abandoned runs after having babies, after friends dying, after other milestones that life has thrown up. Brought on by an almost primeval sense of being at one with nature, of the space and what it can make a tiny, insignificant human feel like, of the wide-ness and wild-ness of our wonderful world and our incredible place in it. My kids never see me run. When it happens on the moors they look at me as though I've lost it. But it always feels as though I've found it.

One

I thought I might not blog about it this year. After all I finally got the hang of Instagram and posting a pic might be all that I needed. I've even discovered the delights of Diptic and can create bananas montages. (Is marvelling at smartphone technology reserved for those who grew up thinking the rotary dialling version was pretty cool?)  But then I opened up the dormant pages from last year and the year before and found I liked to read what I had been musing about, where I had been, what I had seen there.

The joys and mysteries of Blogger mean I am followed by a single loyal sister (having not figured out how to make it easy to do), but even if I don't figure out how to make it a bit more accessible I think I may still write. A bit. Maybe not every day. After all the thinking, reflecting, the spiritual wondering is partly the point. All of the point. Suddenly out on the Yorkshire moors leaving hearts this week one picture, however snazzy, didn't seem enough. Not the same as leaving a little bit of brightness and crafty loveliness in the midst of urban grit. And if I'm not beautifying places, what am I doing? Creating a moment to think about life and love and God. Every day. For Lent.