Oh, how shameful! Two links to my zipper pouch tutorial in one day equals loads of new visitors, and I haven't updated in ages. I've been busy enjoying autumn, you see. Popular autumn activities include eating bowls of vegetarian 'chicken' noodle soup and grilled cheeses:

Admiring the tree-lined streets in potential new neighbourhoods:

And watching squirrels, if you're a cat:

Yesterday was wonderfully warm. I was painting a chair outside and actually had to take off my pullover as the sun was so hot. Today, though, there's a chill in the air, and I was able to test out my new winter jacket (so cute!). I need to get a new paintbrush to put the last couple of coats on the chair and then I'll make a little slipcover for the padded back and then I'll post a picture of the transformation. In the meantime, you can help me decide whether I should stain my desk or paint it white. I think it would look fantastic stained dark, but priming and painting it white would be so much quicker!

American pansies, these. Because that's where I am. I saw these blooming up out of the fallen leaves and thought, 'How amazing. It's practically freezing, and they still survive.' And then I picked them.

There's a lot to do when you move to another country. So far I've bought an electric kettle (phew) and set up my new computer, which arrived this afternoon. It's a fantastic machine, and the monitor is slightly unbelievable. A 24" wide screen -- definitely the biggest I've had the pleasure to use, and it'll be perfect for working on book covers.

Later, I have to try to set up a bank account. I've got loads of statements and printed matter from my UK bank, so I can prove to them I'm worth their time. Getting the money from one place to the other will be trickier, though, because apparently nobody ever has to move funds between countries in a timely, affordable manner.

And also I need to be approved for a mortgage, and then I should probably find a house to buy (I'm staying with my parents at the moment).

And then I'll get a haircut. Possibly before the house thing.

Jane posted about elevenses a while back, and elevenses are something I feel quite strongly about. I know there was a time when I didn't have tea and biscuits halfway between breakfast and lunch, but it's all a bit hazy.

Yesterday evening, Rob and I went out for dinner but decided to stop by Waitrose instead of having our dessert at the restaurant. Just imagine the possibilties! A chocolate tart, an apple pie -- I could choose anything! I settled on a selection pack of Fox's biscuits. Sometimes living large isn't all it's cracked up to be.

A selection pack is rather exciting, though. You can have a biscuit -- a custard cream, say -- enjoy it, and then reach over to the tray and have a biscuit of an entirely different sort! Decadent, but enjoyable.

For my elevenses today, I had a Crunch Cream and what I'd guess to be a Chocolate Crunch Cream. Because (and don't tell anybody I told you this) if you choose one Cream-type biscuit, you're actually getting two biscuits for the price of one! A little known trick. My gift to you.

I can't wait to see this cat again. They don't come much better than Booty the Cat.

And it would be nice to have a cat to pet right now. What a week. It's been One of Those Weeks -- one I thought would never end, and which I can't quite believe actually has wrapped up now, because it seemed as though I'd be trapped in it forever. Mainly, it was about the books.

Pre-orders went smashingly well. Up until the point when I had to actually send out the books. I sent the request to our distributor the day they arrived in the warehouse (the 12th). 'Whoop,' I thought, 'I will have the books tomorrow and people will begin receiving them on Monday, and birds will land on my shoulders and the streets will be paved with ginger biscuits.'

No books on Friday. No books on Monday. No books on Tuesday. 'Um, distributor, where are the books I need to send? I've got the envelopes all addressed and ready to go! I need the books!' What are these 'books' you speak of? they asked. They claim to have never got my e-mailed request, though it was sitting happily in my sent box without so much as a bounced error message.

Now, at this point, if I were the distributor and my system had failed, resulting in the delayed shipment of books, I would have apologized profusely and had the books on the next van available. I might have even taped a bar of the finest dark chocolate to the top of the pallet, because my stressed-out client might need a nice treat. Instead, as the mere publisher and client, I sat wringing my hands.

No books on Wednesday (the publication date). No books on Thursday. No books Friday morning. I had no books. What did I have? E-mails inquiring as to the whereabouts of individual preorders. A cancelled order. Stress. When we spoke to them today, they said the request had gone through on Thursday, so they'd be shipped today (Friday) and arrive on Monday. . . probably. Not good enough! After several phone conversations, they finally agreed to get the books on the next van and that they would absorb the cost themselves (they had to think about this?!).

So the books arrived at 2:40 today, and I got them all packed up and sent in the day's second post pick-up. Your books are on their way(s).

I really am disgusted with the way our distributors handled this. Because you can tell people, 'The books haven't arrived from our warehouse,' but all they care about is the fact that they don't have a book in their hands (and fair enough, too). It makes me feel as though I've let down all the wonderful people who pre-ordered. When people hand over money for something, they deserve professional service, not excuses. And we may be a small publisher, but who cares about that? Not our customers. They shouldn't have to. I don't want them to ever have to notice.

So, now that the books are finally floating around the postal system, I can breathe out again. I leave in three days, and I've just found out that it costs $250 to check my guitar on the plane (without insurance, mind you), so I have to figure out another way to get it to America. But at least those books are in the post.

Today's post is brought to you by things that look a bit strange but taste very nice. I bought the latest Donna Hay magazine yesterday (well, the newest issue we've got here in Britain), and it's full of exciting recipes. I often pass up Donna Hay's mag, as it's usually so meat-y, and I'm not. But the photos are unparalleled, and the issue I just bought is very pudding/dessert heavy.

First up today was chilli:

I've always wanted to make veggie chilli from scratch, so I could have it just as I like. Chilli is a lot like a good cookie -- that might not seem right, but it's true. Both should be delicious and comforting -- and simple. I don't mind chilli that's stuffed full of a dozen different vegetables, but basic really is best sometimes.

So this was basically kidney beans, veggie mince, and chopped tomatoes. And spices. I should say 'flavourings,' because this chilli had absolutely zero spice. Wouldn't even qualify as mild. I would have preferred a bit of a kick, but it was still tasty all the same.

On to apples, for caramelized apple crumble:

Now, see, those're pretty. Nothing wrong with the look of those apple slices. Better cover them up!

Yummo! The apple slices were fried in butter and brown sugar (didn't know you could do that, but I will now keep an eye out for other things to fry in sugar-butter). Topped with an extra-quick oat-y crumble and extra-thick single cream (which I thought would be like single cream, only thicker; I can only assume white glue tastes different from extra-thick single cream, but the consistency is exactly the same).

The crumble was tasty and slightly healthier than my favourite apple-y dessert, apple dumplings (another looks-bad-tastes-good dish), and chilli is surprisingly low-calorie. Even when you eat wayyy too much of it.

I didn't visit the Knitting and Stitching show today, in the end (I did go Friday afternoon, though). I spent the morning figuring out how to squeeze big piles of belongings into small suitcases and shuffled my studio around a bit. It's turning back into the bedroom it's really meant to be. The change in furniture has brought with it that sense of peace and stilliness that often seems to come with a simple bit of redecoration.

Up until a couple of weeks ago, my studio had been filled with half-packed boxes and clutter. The semblance of order is well appreciated now, and I can enjoy the beautiful light in here once again.

The Knitting and Stitching show amazed and overwhelmed me last year, but it was so disappointingly similar this time that I wasn't filled with the same awe. That, coupled with the fact that I really (REALLY) don't need extra bulk to pack away, meant that I didn't come away with much. A few fat quarters of dupion silk and the lovely little bag/basket above. It was made by these ladies. Their aesthetic is great; I would have loved to buy more if it weren't for the pesky upcoming move.

I've been listening to the Prairie Home Companion today, in honour of said pesky move. I waiver between excitement and disappointment, as is expected. Excited about new adventures; disappointed to be leaving the things I really do love, the places and activites I've defined myself by for the last couple of years.

But as if living in London hasn't already done enough for me, it's even made me appreciate Minnesota (for the first time?). Not just the general convenience that is America (need a widget? Target has forty-five different kinds, and it's just down the street.), but Minnesota itself. The lakes, the theatres, the state fair, etc. The unique character that almost makes up for the lack of Doctor Who and tea cakes.

Target helps too.

I'm afraid I haven't been very creative lately. I leave in a week and a half (I leave on the 24th; the Crafter's Companion comes out on the 18th -- I feel like I should print these dates on a t-shirt and wear it around so I won't have to keep reminding people), and it feels like just about everything in the world has to happen before then.

Tomorrow we're driving the birds to Oxford, to their new home with the lovely Lara (blogless, I think). They'll like living with her -- she's read a book about finches! On Sunday, I'm supposed to meet up with people at the Knitting and Stitching Show (I went today as well). I really want to see these friends, especially as it may be my last chance before I go, but I also need a day to myself to start and finish some of the things on my list (things like calling about my broken treadmill -- not fun things).

One triumph today was exporting to PDF the finished documents for one of the books I'm working on. It's ready to go to print, which means I can forget about it. . . for a few days. And some exciting things are cooking with regard to the Crafter's Companion. A hearty 'thank you' to everybody who preordered, by the way! We were all surprised with how well that went. I've pasted address labels on envelopes, and the books will go out as soon as they're delivered to the office (Monday, I hope).

So, I'm stressed out at the moment, but I'm also very excited and happy. I feel like I'm at the top of a hill, about to run down, with many wonderful opportunities tumbling alongside me, and that's a good thing. But it's an awful lot of work just to stay balanced here for the moment.

This is just a little reminder to anybody who has helpfully displayed a pre-order button on their blog: Preordering ends today (Thursday the 12th), so please make sure your buttons have been removed! Thank you!!

Oh dear, a picture of me (you should feel free to start leaving comments about how young I look -- I don't like it, but I'm used to it). I have a couple of projects on the go which require a self portrait. To go with the photo, here's an old meme favourite which I couldn't be bothered to do until today:

100 Things About Me (Which You May or May Not Have Already Known)

1. My birthday is December 22nd.

2. This is why my website is twelve22.org; I’m always confused when other people are surprised to learn this. I can’t help wondering what they thought it stood for.

3. I was brought home from the hospital on Christmas day in a giant Christmas stocking.

4. The first time I can remember reading was when I started reading bits of the newspaper to my mother one morning. The paper was upside-down from my vantage point. I think I was four.

Magazines and chocolate. They go so well together.

The Frankfurt Book Fair was pretty good. We did some excellent business (within the trade), and I met some nice people along the way. And most importantly, I bought seven (!) magazines and found two new flavours of Kit Kat. So I think we can call it a success, through and through.

I shouldn't be so excited about magazines, especially when at a book fair, but I just can't help it. I've realized that leafing through new issues, finding my favourite photos, cutting them out and pasting them in my inspiration book is practically one of my hobbies now. I'm the first to admit that it's a bit pathetic, but what's a girl to do, eh?

Anyway, I'm going to relearn German via home magazines and a dictionary. You spend seven years learning a language and it still all slips away in the blink of an eye. Next time I'm in Frankfurt? I'll be able to give fluent home decor advice!

I'm in the middle of packing up for the Frankfurt Book Fair. I'll be gone until Sunday, meeting people, walking around, trying to sell rights, etc. So I'll leave you with this cake:

Well, it's not really for you. Today is Em's birthday and, since we're flying to Frankfurt instead of going by rail, she's not terribly excited about it. So I've made her the most richest birthday cake ever. It's probably too rich to actually eat, not that that'll stop anybody trying. Here's another photo, because the ganache looks so excellent:

One of my biggest complaints about the Frankfurt Book fair is that they let the public in (supposedly only on the final two days, although they're actually there the whole time). We spend most of the year trying to show the public what we've got; book fairs are for doing business within the industry. But oh well. If you're there, stop by the Snowbooks stand to see the Crafter's Companion (and me!).

After reading Rebecca's 'review' of Cheshire Street, Rob and I headed out to check out the shops. One of the most amazing things about London is that you've never discovered it all. How many times have I traipsed around Brick Lane recently? And I never knew about Cheshire Street!

We visited all the shops Rebecca talks about in this post, and Shelf was probably my favourite (Labour and Wait get loads of points for style, though). I bought the above items from Shelf -- a little paper cutout and two hand-screened tea towels.

Look, Jessie -- London loves you!:

And lastly, a fat cat I made, balancing on a tape measure:

Made from leftover wool from my bag. I was just telling somebody how I'm not often compelled to make soft toys, and then the idea for this popped into my head. His scarf is just a scrap of fabric -- he may be in need of proper clothes soon. . .