Now there's a statement. Borderline inflammatory talk. But they are stooooopid. They are never quite where you want them when hanging out the washing. It doesn't matter if you have a rotary drier or a long traditional line dryer. You have to keep moving the wretched thing. I don't know why this annoys me so.
|Little hearts all in a row...I know they are there|
Don't get me wrong I like how a peg bag looks. I adore the cute fabric ones, I'm dotty over ones made from old childens clothes and I own a rather fetching enamel bucket peg bag. Yet I still think they are stupid. Cor, I am a feisty one!
My mate Princess has got it sussed. She has always used a long across the body bag from India. That was until it fell to bits and she mused out loud that she should make herself one using Jane's bag pattern as featured in Mollie Makes mag issue 10. She had made her eldest son a school bag and said it was a doddle to make.... so I jumped on the bandwagon (as I always do, when will I have an idea of my own?) and made one hell of a clever fancy pants peg bag.
It's genius. It gets slung across my body and travels around the washing line with me. The pegs are constantly in the most convenient place and it hangs happily off the corner of my rotary drier till I get the washing in.
I hate pegging out. It's a bore. I like the look of white washing on the line but a dark wash disgruntles me. I like outside dried washing smell but I flipping loathe that there is always a spec of bird crap on something. Gah.
Using my Fancy Pants Peg Bag does make up for these grumps, a bit.
|Erin gave me this button|
But if I am frank, the thing I like about it best is it looks nice hanging on the utility room door.
|Just in case there was any question over it's handmade status|
I love it. I just do. I'm not sorry. I'm happy to gloat over it. I show everyone who comes to my house my cLeVeR peg bag. Yeah, scratch my BIG head. Or rather, scratch Princess' head for the idea and Jane's talented head for the pattern. That Jane is a clever devil.
Whilst I was stitching my middle boy, Little Cuckoo (though he is hoooooge now), said he wanted to sew a blanket.
He chose some felt and some embroidery thread and started to sew.
He was totally absorbed in his task.
So much so he stitched his lovely blanket to his pyjama bottoms.
He thought that was hysterical and laughed plenty. That blanket is as cherished as any crocheted blanket I have ever slaved over. It is adorable.