A wonderful long weekend spent in Canberra with just the toppest people going around!
It was totally relaxed but full & exciting.
Nan & I had two of the best ever thrifting days in the history of thrifting! Nan's little vehicle was full to overflowing with amazing finds.
I need to sift through my little (plane friendly) treasures but they are all pic worthy so you'll be swamped soon enough with pea green goodies.
I'm quite fascinated by still life.
I went to the library & did a bit of research recently. Not content with the traditional symbols I made up my own & have made his & hers portraits.
Have a cracker weekend.
PS: The subjects of these portraits are still very much alive & kicking.
for my very-special-passed-down-from-my-grandma jewellery led to this panicky mountain of pillowcases in the craft room.
I did find the rings but I obviously need to rethink my hiding spots.
I'll be folding & sorting & repacking the shelves over the weekend if you need me.
Hoping your weekend is a goodie.
It will probably come as no surprise to you to know that I'm an obsessive kind of person.
I run because I made a rule. I'm a creature of habit when it comes to food & I have the same pretty drink. The recent switch to Zubrowka (the original bison grass vodka) has meant I'm enjoying it more. A bit dangerous really.
It stands to reason that our children would also have inherited a few of my obsessive qualities.
When the kids were small I wasn't much about the making of things. There were no supplies in the house. No elastic or buttons or zips or even a selection of threads. I'd packed the machine away & only dragged it out for emergencies of the obsessive kind. I made a Melody costume for the biggest when she thought she was a mermaid. I refashioned a pinny when Madeline was the go. I made running repairs to the hot pink flowergirl dress (worn by all three) & one year I made them & all their mates Puffles when they were Club Penguin mad.
One freezing June morning when the little guy was three I fashioned him a loin cloth so that he could be Tarzan. It was made using an old suede waistcoat from the dress up box & the top of a pair of red tights. The total make time would have been around ten minutes.
I found the loin cloth last night when I was doing a bit of reluctant cleaning upstairs.
I remembered that tiny (but strangely muscular) little frame leaping about the furniture, springing from sofa back to floor and crouching and stalking me around the house.
It's good to be a maker...even a speedy, fakey only in case of emergency kind.
for this space!
The week out was good for my soul but not so good for the crafting.
& I've got a little confession for you...
The taking of photos has been zapping all my creative energy. I'm trying really hard...failing lots...and maybe getting better at the snapping (but still terrible at chatting to random people & taking photos in the street).
It's good to be back but I expect it'll be sporadic until the kids go back to school.
Perhaps you haven't remembered every word I've ever written?
Perhaps you haven't recently trawled the archives?
Perhaps you'd like it all in one bite size post?
Perhaps you'd like to visit Susie?
or perhaps not ... I'm pretty boring really.
Draw! Pilgrim memory game which came as a little gift with the purchase of this print.
Be brave.
Mix things up.
Have a crack.
I am not, by nature, a risk taker. I'm a first born, married to a first born. I follow the rules and do the "right" things. In my head I'm so much braver, sassier & have more guts. When it comes down to it, I don't take the road less travelled. I tread the same well worn (& well loved) path. I enjoy the pace & the scenery on my road but I confess I do sometimes wonder about the road less travelled.
When it comes to making yes, yes, yes with the risk. I just dive in, trust my eye, make it up as I go along. Interesting isn't it? There's always the round filing cabinet if it all turns to shiz.
Noticed elsewhere:
Risk takers I admire... Claire, Bindi, Pip, Michelle. Girls with big plans & making stuff happen. Power to you.
I made a lemon birthday cake for The Date...for desert at the family(his) lunch.
I'd scoured Delicious and found just the recipe. A nice list of ingredients that made me sure the resulting cake would live up to the "delicious" promise.
I made sure I had the best ingredients, nice olive oil, home grown lemons, quality prosecco, beautiful eggs. I set to work and made the cake. It did all the right things in my new oven (which I'm not great mates with yet) & looked gorgeous when I removed it from the tin.
I tasted the tiny bit that stuck to the side of the tin & my heart sank. It tasted very eggy.
What was I worried about? I'm normally pretty good with this sort of thing. I thought that there'd be plenty said about the egg cake rather than the lemon cake. Then all sorts of crazy food poisoning scenarios were running through my head.
I knew I wasn't going to be serving my cake. We went to Browns on the morning of & picked up a white chocolate & raspberry cheesecake (stunning) & a flourless orange cake (meh).
The cake was duly sampled when we returned home on Monday evening & it was, just as the magazine promised ... absolutely delicious.
There's a lesson here ... if you think it's good - it IS good & who cares what other people think.
The door at Auntie Pat's is big & heavy.
I knock - a little melodious knock. "Come in", I hear. I think how cool it is that my eighty something Great Aunt is happy to have her door unlocked.
I let myself in.
Auntie Pat is all organised and ready for our knitting date. The radio is tuned to Magic 1278 and her current knitting project is laid out on the dining table.
I'm offered a cuppa and say yes to a cup of tea. Once the tea is made we settle ourselves at the table. Auntie Pat examines my homework. She's very happy with the way I'm knitting. She runs her fingers over my work and says softly "Mmm, yes, you're going to be a beautiful knitter Koo". I feel well pleased with this. I like to be good at stuff.
I've brought along the pattern as well as my 365 knitting stitches desk calendar. I hand the pattern over to Auntie Pat & ask ernestly if I should begin at January 1st or maybe today's date? "No", Auntie Pat says firmly. "Close that book." I do. "Right, now just open it up and work on whatever pattern it throws up." I do exactly that and open the book at the diagonal rib. Auntie Pat is pleased and tells me to get started.
I cast on using my thumb and Auntie Pat begins reading. We sit together in an easy silence, knitting and reading. "Islands in the stream" comes on the radio and I smile to myself. I don't think I've heard that song since 1987. I hum along happily.
Every now and then Auntie Pat offers a "interesting" or "hmmm, clever".
Very quickly the two hours is up. I pack my things and say my thank yous and goodbyes at the door. Once I start the car I'm tempted to tune the radio to 1278 but decide to save the Magic for Tuesdays with Auntie Pat.
I'm not sure if you guys really are interested in how stuff actually "becomes" around here (or if you're just being nice). BUT you know you should probably be careful what you wish for.
Step 1
Deconstruction...
Usually I've got a fair idea about the "how" from the construction that goes on in my head on the run. Sometimes I've got absolutely no idea...
You've got to make sacrifices.
The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become.
Charles Du Bos
...Just before
...24 hours after
We were away for Saturday's storm.
I told myself that the old & the new house would both be fine...I tried to believe it...I relaxed...enjoyed the night...& then went to sleep...& then drove back to Melbourne to check everything was OK...at 3am...everyone I've told thinks I'm nuts...except the two other women in my family..."would have done the same"...telling.
Hoping that my Melbourne mates are all doing OK in the mop up.
The rest of the weekend was hassle free...
