Mellow yellow

Yesterday was astonishing.  I sat and watched the BBC news reports from Japan with horror, which got deeper and deeper as time went on.  Waking up today to news of nuclear reactors exploding just seems unreal somehow. 

The footage of that enormous whirlpool way out at sea, with the fishing boat fighting to get out of it was like something out of a disaster movie. 

To try and raise my spirits, I thought I'd try to do something a bit creative today, what with my developing life plan to become a creative dynamo and all. 

The other day as I was performing some unrelenting domestic drudgery, I found a set of bedlinen that looked a bit drab. 

Plain white, a duvet cover and four matching pillowcases, all trimmed with sort of broiderie anglais stuff around the edges.  Pretty in an uninspiring kind of way.  Also, it was looking a bit tired somehow.  Clean, and everything, but just not living the bedlinen dream any more.

Mr WithaY and I had already decided to go to Salisbury this morning, so I thought I'd pick up some fabric dye and attempt to tie-dye it.  The bedlinen, not Salisbury. 

What was I thinking?

We packed away the traditional brunch of Eggs Benedict in Patisserie Valerie, performed a rapid synchronised scoot round several shops to pick up various essentials, and then hey ho to the fabric shop.  Mr WithaY needed to buy some orange fabric to make armbands.

Don't ask.  I promise to take photos when all can be revealed. 

While he was speculatively examining every roll of fabric in the shop, I decided to get some wadding, fabric and ribbon to make a posh notice board out of a scabby old cork board.  That's my plan for tomorrow. If it works I will take gloating photos.

I also decided to get some fabric dye for my tie-dye experiment.  How hard can it be?  Hippies manage it, after all. 

I bought a box of yellow, and a box of vibrant blue. My plan, such as it was, was to tie up the bedding, dye it yellow, undo the ties, re-tie it all slightly differently, dye it blue, and thus end up with a gorgeous mixture of white, yellow, blue and ahahahahahaaaaa GREEN in a random yet stylish pattern all over it. 

The first part went ok.  I spent bloody ages tying multiple bits of string artfully around the pillowcases and the duvet cover, then bunged them in the washing machine with the yellow dye and half a kilo of salt.  I even had to make a special trip over to the garage to buy extra salt.  That's how seriously I was taking this.

Mr WithaY was busily making armbands on the kitchen table, so we both had a cup of tea and watched the bright, bright yellow water in the washing machine. 

The washing machine finished, beeping at me bossily.  I took out the gorgeous yellow bedding.  I untied the string, waiting to see the lovely patterns, and there was nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  Fuck all.  The entirety of the fabric was bright yellow.  Mr WithaY squinted helpfully, trying to be encouraging.

"I think there's a sort of paler bit there in the corner." 
"Really?  Where?"

"Right in the bottom corner...oh.  Now you've moved it I can't see it any more.  Is that a circle of white in the middle there, though?"

"Might be...maybe...."

I sighed sadly and put the beautiful blue dye and yet more salt in the washing machine, then spent at least seventeen hours (maybe longer) unpicking the wet string and re-tying it into careful patterns.   I was hoping that where there were some paler white-ish bits, the dye would be blue, and where it was nice and yellow, there would be green, and where the string was, would stay yellow. 

I remember having to spend ages in art at school dicking about with colour wheels and so on.  Yellow and blue make green.  Definitely.

I wasn't very good at art, mind.

I am now the proud owner of a set of khaki bedding, spotted with distressing yellow circles, much like little rings of sickly toadstools here and there on the forest floor.

Fuck it.

What to do, what to do....

Mr WithaY is off out for the day tomorrow, weather permitting. I am wondering what to do with myself, home alone all day. I could get up to all kinds of mischief.

I toyed with the idea of going to Bath on the train to gawp at the redevelopment of the city centre, but then I remembered I spend fucking HOURS on the train every week anyway, so rejected that idea.

I could drive there, but parking in Bath is like a punishment for transgressions in a former life. I bet even people on their 50th incarnation, one small step away from Nirvana, still struggle to find a decent parking space in Bath on a Saturday. Unless they get there at 7am. Which they probably do, smug Karmic bastards.

But. But. Bath has some great shops.

Long Tall Sally for one. I always find lovely things in there, and buy them in a sort of deprived-villager shopping frenzy, having learned from painful experience that they will NOT be there next time I pop in. There always seems to be a sale on, with stuff on the rails in my size (that I admired but didn't buy at full price) reduced to eight quid. Who could resist?

Not me, matey.

Also, Lush. Now I am having a moral dilemma about Lush at the moment. They have taken a stance on an issue which I think is wrong; they are, of course, entitled to their opinion.

They are donating a percentage of the profits of a particular product to the hunt saboteurs association. I don't hunt, nor do I think I know anyone who does, but I feel quite strongly that the hunt saboteurs' methods should not be encouraged.

So, do I stop buying Lush products completely, to make a point? Or, do I continue to buy their other products, not the one which they are donating the profit from, as I am completely in support of their organic, environmentally-friendly, non-animal-tested, minimal-packaging, fantastic products?

Does the good that they do in terms of enviromental impact outweigh what I consider to be a bad decision to offer financial support to a group which I think shouldn't be encouraged?

Tough call. So many italics.

There are also some fine jewellery shops, but I am not really able to afford to buy myself a pair of huge solitaire diamond earrings this month. So. Arse.

I expect I'll just pop out get the papers, maybe watch a dvd as there is seldom anything worth watching on TV, play my guitar for a bit, faff about on the Internets, and drink tea. It's not a bad way to spend a day, especially if it's peeing down with rain, as the forecast is promising.

What Would Captain Kirk Do*?







*Other than teach alien women how to love, and get his shirt artfully ripped in a fist fight.

Blimey

This is spooky. It tells me all about myself! Just like a horoscope!

Lucy WithaY took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Seeks an affectionate relationship, offering fulfi..." Click here to read the rest of the results.