I'm blaming my new glasses for the time it has taken me to settle down to write tonight- that and the mountain of pancakes I made (it's Pancake Day here in the UK) even though I'm home alone (banana with maple syrup and whipped cream, mmmmm ). I got new varifocals last week and they make me feel like somebody else; somebody I don't like the look of, who most probably took a large dose of Mescaline or whatever makes the carpet come to life in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas; the floor now ripples in a disconcertingly trippy way! The new frames, which I'd hoped would make me look more à la mode, remind me of my first pair of NHS glasses when I was about 8; the world has a frame around it again and I'm reliving all my childhood hangups about being the kid with glasses.*I just looked up à la mode and it can also mean "topped with ice cream" ...February has been beautiful so far and a little bit of motivation has returned. The late winter snow seems to be an inspiration every year and I've been busy making new things, doing some drawings in my digital sketchbook and going on  small winter adventures. Last week we went up Carrock Fell and, after worrying my way up the steep bit, I lost myself in admiring the scattered diamonds, wind etched snow fields and iced bun rocks. We drank hot tea in a shelter cairn and I  galumphed along following Rupert's footprints on the stumbly trek back down. There was a cloud full of snow behind us, the wind spun powder in to our faces and the snow was up to my knees in places; I couldn't stop thinking of the film Lost Horizon. In the picture above, you can just see the sunbeam hitting a group of trees at Skiddaw House, one of the most remote hostels in the country, miles from any road- perfect spot for an artist's retreat!I've been making new lampshades and making the most of bright days to photograph them- which seems a little back to front. Each one took longer than ever to make as I got carried away with the embroidered details and deciding, after continuing with the exercises in my Dream Plan Do book, that what I enjoy most about my work is making something really special that can sometimes take days to complete. The shades and lamps have just as much work in them as a framed piece,  so that although pricing will always be difficult, I have made a promise to myself that I will stop undervaluing these pieces.I've had a complete creative block lately and felt really quite low but in the last couple of days I've made time to mess about with my Wacom drawing tablet and found myself doing what I always used to do as a child which was drawing stories  just for fun and escapism. The little house, above, started off after driving past the white climbing hut at Stair. As I drew and played with the Kyle T. Webster brushes, the hut evolved into strange a fairytale that hasn't quite been put in to words yet....Today my lovely friend Susie , from Glaisdale where we both grew up, shared a picture of her mum who would have been 100 today. The picture was of a small girl with big boots and an enormous hair ribbon. Anyway I had some more fun doodling my imaginary version, perhaps she lives in the little white house? perhaps she's just going to visit? Either way it's nice to retreat into your imagination when it's cold outside and your glasses are upsetting you.Now, I have promised myself that I'll print two more pieces of fabric tonight ready for stitching tomorrow so I'll start to pipe down. The room smells of snowdrops and it's time for a cup of something warm. There are other things to talk about... how it's easy to get cocky and mess up all but one of your printed tiles by forgetting to rotate the writing, how the one mythical chilblains become a real thing when taking photographs in the snow and how it is possible, even when feeling a bit fed up , that some excellent fiddle playing might cause you to stop the car to dance a jig on the darkened fell side like the shadow of the girl  you used to be.Reading: "Wildwood-a Journey Through Trees" Roger Deakin.   Listening to: The Gloaming  and " The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock" Imogen Hermes Gowar (Audio book) 

I'm under my special blanket, by the stove, wrapped in 117 woollen squares knitted by my Great Grandma for my parent's wedding in 1962 (which turned out to be a famously cold winter so I'm sure it was welcomed). I've been watching the snow covered mountain tops, behind the house, turn all shades of rosy, sugared almond pink, against a sky of ice blue, as the sun set; wishing I'd timed my short walk up the valley better and knew more about camera settings. Never mind, I did that thing we should all do more of and just looked and said "ooooh" and was "present in the moment". Now night has fallen, the cat is snoring and my fingers have just about thawed out enough to type...but I feel a bit stuck if I'm honest. The pressure to maintain an upbeat public persona and maintain a stiff upper lip in times of adversity can be stifling (and dishonest in my opinion). Nobody wants even more gloom in the gloomiest month of the year but, for the record, 2018 so far has been ... difficult. I'm fully prepared to be optimistic , it would just be nice to have a little balance for a change, a "good news, bad news" situation instead of a general trend towards worry, jumping when the phone rings and eating way too much rice pudding as comfort food. Anyway, here is a seasonal antidote, something really fun and absorbing that I found yesterday on the Makelight website. Emily Quinton and her husband Stef have developed an app. called #YearOfColour which extracts the colours from your Instagram pictures and creates really interesting palettes of colour, grouped according to popularity, time of year and so on. I found it fascinating and surprising to see the results for Witchmountain (where did all that sandy beige come from?!) and it's a really useful design tool.I've been tempted to do one of Emily's online photography courses so that next time I won't miss catching the mountain glow.In the meantime I tried to take advantage of some beautiful winter sunlight today to take a few pictures of prints which have recently come back from an exhibition in Keswick and need to be listed on my website. I noticed an ancient, painted over nail on the porch of the cottage next door so I made a little outdoor gallery and wrestled with reflections. What a beautiful afternoon though; the kind of air that feels like a cool drink and signs of spring everywhere. The exhibition had been in Keswick's Theatre by the Lake and it was encouraging  to receive a few website sales this month, from people who had seen work there.The bumpy start to the year and my decision not to do British Craft Trade Fair has left me feeling as though I'm drifting a bit but that's not always a bad thing... who knows what opportunities and inspirations will be found wherever  that current takes me.I mentioned the Dream, Plan, Do journal in my last post and last week I made a start on the first sections of the book which aim "to help you focus on your vision, future and values." So here's a confession... I couldn't do it. I felt intimidated by my apparent lack of focus and clear direction after nearly 10 years of being "Witchmountain" but most of all I was unable to contemplate the question " How old will you be in 2030, how about your parents, children, partner?". As I say, it's been difficult lately (the stuff that makes us human - love, loss, ageing ...you don't need to know the details) and I still have't got used to being 50 let alone been able to imagine being 62! To cut a long story short I closed the book, retreated into another good story (The Night Circus) and decided to peek warily at the Facebook group that runs along side the planner instead. And here is why it's sometimes ok to admit when things are crappy and your life isn't looking like a styled Instagram shot; because it turned out I wasn't alone. Loads of other people were saying the same things or asking similar questions, dealing with all sorts of bad stuff and supporting each other. Encouragement and understanding and practical solutions abound in groups like that, and yes, you can end up spending too much time Dreaming and not enough time Doing if you're not careful, but I picked the planner up again and didn't feel quite so alone (so thanks Patricia and the Dream,Plan,Do team). I got a similar feeling to the one I got last summer, packing up after Art in the Pen, which was that I was slightly awestruck by the resilience and determination of so many creative people who are usually juggling all sorts of plates, some with jagged edges, and without those people the world really would be eternally January.In other news I gave away a lovely original hare print last month as part of my Newsletter Subscribers Draw and this month there will be another (nice) surprise for somebody so do subscribe if you haven't already (and tell all your friends). I'm also going to be doing lots of other random giveaways throughout the year as part of my celebration of 10 years of writing this blog.The little paper houses in the picture above are a FREE pdf download on my website in the Cards section of the shop where, should you be in the market for one, you could also find some perfect cards for Valentines Day ;)Enough sales talk, I'm off to stitch tiny cross stitches into paper whilst watching whodunnits on Netflix.One final thing about that planner...I haven't reached the page yet but I've gathered that people have to choose a keyword for the year. I have come up with two (because I fancy being self indulgent) they are RESILIENCE and CONNECTION, I don't think you can have the first without the second so this is the year I want to spend more time with the people I care about, keep in touch with old friends and building connections with new ones. If you're reading this then that includes you. Thank you xReading: "The Mitford Murders" Jessica Fellowes. Listening To : "How to Stop Time" Matt Haig ( on Audible) and "Charlotte Anne" Julian Cope SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave

Here I sit on the 3rd day of the year, a nuthatch is attacking the bird feeder,  and apart from the kettle bubbling on the stove, the house is momentarily empty and quiet. I'm trying to gather some thoughts to cobble together this blog post but after nearly a month with no phone or internet, combined with the blurring together of days over Christmas, I feel as though I've emerged like Rip Van Winkle, blinking and out of time. Yesterday the phone was finally fixed (a giant battle with EE for compensation begins) and I am so joyful at being able to speak to my family in a warm room instead of shivering half way down the lane. I  missed Christmas as far as my work goes ... no access to the website or ability to promote myself through social media has probably resulted in fewer sales,  but the radio silence has made me even more acutely aware that it is the connections we make with other people that really matter in life. Isolation can be a terrible thing and cannot be compared to chosen solitude. Anyway, all communications are working again now, I didn't have to start training pigeons and the new year stretches ahead like a clean sheet of paper. I'm sharpening metaphorical pencils and preparing to make the first marks.We had some sparkling days in December, when the path to the reservoir was studded with emeralds and rocks in the Scope Beck were encased and smoothed by shells of ice. Lakes reflected skies like water colours and kept reminding me of  my dad's paintings, as I wandered about being over emotional and nostalgic - a side effect os the season.I had that "end of term" feeling in December as the last of the year's orders went out. It's a good feeling, to have cleared my desk, done the tax return and temporarily downed tools but also tends towards panic as the pressure to build on this year's successes grows. I made the decision not to do British Craft Trade Fair this year which means I'm going to have to work really hard to be visible (the internet outage couldn't have come at a worse time!) and hopefully keep the galleries I've worked with in 2017 interested as well as finding some new opportunities. Art in the Pen was so good for me that this year I'm hoping to do a few more similar events as well as getting my act together with the plan to run small workshops here. I like the idea of hosting small groups, running informal "kitchen table" style workshops and finally being able to use my "Brownie Guide Hostess Badge" skills (endless cups of tea and cake) .Really I should have spent the month of no internet working on a new collection of designs and pouring over my  "Dream, Plan,Do" journal ( setting "juicy goals " ugh, no! ) but instead I retreated in to a book and it was the best thing I could have done. I'd wanted to join in a Twitter read along thing dreamed up by Robert Macfarlane and Julia Bird, the idea was to read  "The Dark is Rising", a children's classic by Susan Cooper, mirroring in real time the days described in the story, starting on Winter Solstice eve. I managed to find a hideous 1990's copy in Oxfam which included all five books in the sequence ( The Dark is Rising is the second but they all could stand alone) and set about retreating from real life for a while. It was a shame I couldn't join in with the #TheDarkIsReading discussions online but I feel as though it was perfectly timed ; descriptions of winter landscapes, dark lanes, ominous crows and battles with "the Dark" came easily to mind as I spent many hours standing alone in the pitch dark and bitter cold trying to make phone calls!  There is something comforting about reading books associated with childhood and I raced through all five volumes, able to briefly forget my worries. It reminds me of the winters of 2009/2010 when the heavy snow meant enforced seclusion and retreat (on that occasion in to  Tove Jansson's Moominland Midwinter) ; I think we all need this escape/hibernation from time to time and it has left me more able to face the January chill and the uncertainties of another year so thanks for the prompt Robert and Julia. Goodness, the fire is a disgrace; despite frantic wood collection and much sawing by Rupert and his brother over the past few days (the woodpile got wet when the basement flooded last night during Storm Eleanor). My fingers have gone numb. It's time for me to think about supper and finding something dry to burn... or another jumper...Happy 2018 to you and thank you as always, for reading . This blog will have it's tenth birthday in April so there will be things to win and tiny celebrations. For now I will leave you with this "Best9" image that seems to sum up 2017 in all its beautiful shades of blue, green and grey.Reading; "The Night Circus"  by Erin Morgenstern  Listening to: "How to Stop Time " by Matt Haig ( audio book) and trying to forget the hours of Christmas tunes played in a loop by EE customer services.