Thursday, 20 March 2008

the agony the ecstacy

4th day in a row immobilised in bed. first day couldn't even sit or stand. if it weren't for the no poo talk rule I'd tell you more about what that meant.

buggered back. injections of painkillers. no help.

bored and frustrated. lots of pain, especially trying to type. missing cuddles and play with small children and leaving the house. and being able to play with lovely stuff from craft weekend number 5. as soon as I can sit I'm booking number 6. I'll leave you with pics.

too hard to do links but thanks for the dying lesson suse of the soup, the drive and talk janet of muppinstuff, the sewing companionship Di of the large shoes, and the non blogging mob Cath, Lauren, Jody, Maria and Steph for their multitudinous contributions. especially the food of Maria.

a few pics of my output. all very fine.
hand dying
sewing clothes
and accessories (my most favourite)

a little something I picked up at stitches and craft show. because I'm worried I don't have enough projects in the queue.

and my very first published knitting pattern. run out and grab the new edition of Yarn magazine right now!

and gratuitous cute kid shot.

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

15 years

That's how long this lovely man has put up with me. And he's still smiling!

Three cheers to D.

You are my hero :-)

Happy anniversary spunky trunks.

PS If you tune in to Kerry Ann on Friday morning you might just catch a glimpse of me stitching next to Jenny from Amitie. Oh the fame.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

breaking the blogging barrier

I've been trying so hard to up the number of posts, but somehow I always seem to sit down to blog and realise it's been a week since I was here last. I'm not into self flagellation but I am not at all happy with this state of affairs. Action may be required.

I think I may be losing touch with my own life.

We've just come out of a busy long weekend with two family birthdays, more coats for the floor, dinner guests and a spot of blocking.

Blocking I say. I suspect this jacket may either resemble a tent or be too small. I still have no idea.

Plus the usual akido class. Some training for future generations of consumption, a puppet show, and a tour through my mother out law's stash which left me all the richer. I am particularly taken with this little piece of Liberty which has a future date with a dress pattern and Amy and this lovely poppy print linen and this extraordinary amount of ric rac, still on it's original card packaging. How anyone comes to have so much ric rac blows my mind, I am sure it must have come from D's grandmother who was the original hoarder with a serious sewing habit.

I haven't even begun to prepare for my weekend craft getaway (only three more sleeps!), something I am so excited about I can barely face it front on for fear of provoking a cerebral aneurysm. After four of these delightful getaways I should be more nonchalant about it, but I'm not. I can never quite believe my luck and I certainly don't feel I have come close to exhausting the possibilities such time out offers.

And luxury of luxuries I should be able to get away at lunchtime on Friday so I won't even be arriving in the dark or trying to squeeze in a come down before bed so Saturday should (theoretically) not begin after way too little sleep and a shite load of teenage excitement. Oh yeah, and some wine (no breastfeeding!).

Reading that back I realise how utterly scary I sound. Like some middle aged woman who can imagine nothing more thrilling than a weekend with a bunch of other women playing with sewing machines. Strangely I don't feel like that scary woman, but perhaps I am.

The to do list includes getting a start reading The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs which arrived in the post today, further progress on the swing jacket, some yarn dying lessons from the soup lady, a couple of new garments for me on the sewing machine and perhaps a few amigurumi toys for my upcoming crochet class. It is the first weekend I haven't made kids clothes and I am finding it quite liberating. I don't want to say it out loud but I think it might be all about me.

This time I'm on breakfast duty and I'm quite torturing myself over what to do. Aside from the whole egg fry up option there's buttermilk pancakes with berries, home made muesli, home made fruit toast, hot cross buns and options as yet unexplored.

On one level the decision is seriously unimportant since there will be morning tea and lunch and afternoon tea and dinner to compensate for any culinary faux pas I may commit.

On another level the food is important because it is one of the ways in which I engage directly with the community aspect of these retreats. It is one thing to make a marriage of convenience for the sake of a getaway, to share a place in which we all undertake our own private escapes, but it is quite another to choose to be together.

To sit down and dine together, to offer the products of our own labours to sustain each other is such a cornerstone of real community to me. And for this reason I want to make something really good. Something wholesome and nourishing, something good for us. Something special and enjoyable and perhaps not wholly good for us as everyday food.

Oh and did I mention that I don't want to spend ages preparing it and it can't involve split second timing (if you were thinking soufflé, get out of town) or be unsuitable for large scale manufacture. Or require bringing in specialist equipment or a ridiculous number of ingredients (I need all the transport space for stash!).

But you know, it doesn't really matter, right?

Excuse me I'm just going to look at some food porn, er I mean recipe books...

Monday, 3 March 2008

in the poo

Not quite the same as being in the money, but just as consuming. As someone said, a crappy week and yet, ironically, not shitty enough.

I'll spare you talk of poo, god knows there's been more than enough of it around here in the last little while. It's been like living in a backpackers hostel in India.

I'll just say - enema. You fill in the blanks. Lucky for you there's no photos of that one.

And I've been in a bit of a crappy mood too, since Wil and I also had colds and I missed work, and a really promising work meeting to tend to the sick and needy. And I'll come clean and say that while I do drop work when need, I resent that I need to. I don't resent Wil for getting sick, or anyone else or anything in particular, I just get pissed off that my work, which I like, and which earns money and which is an important part of my current identity and my last stand against total financial dependence and insurance against future I must live through my children because I have no life ism is treated as so utterly expendable. It tends to imply that what I do in those hours I call work is of no importance.

And there's only so many hours you can listen to a young babe crying and whinging without being able to alleviate his pain before you go insane.

Anyway, it's been a blast over here otherwise. I took captain whingy pants and little miss neglectarino to my mum's on Saturday (I bet there are days that fabulous woman thinks twice about the wisdom of giving birth to me) where there was no sleeping, a delicious lunch, an icypole and assorted treats and much of said whinging.

But totally worth it when we got home to see what D had been upto. Talk about progress. I see the future and it features finished flooring!

The house stinks like all get out, so I'm exceptionally glad the weather is warm and we can leave all the doors and windows open all day.

Wil got a new dump truck at the school fete trash and treasure. Great Big Dump - hint hint. Oh that's right, no poo talk.

Amy dressed up in her Thai dancing outfit for the fete, realised she could barely walk int hat long straight skirt so danced a bit and then ditched the long skirt for something a bit more wild ride appropriate. And then went and rode all the poorly maintained creaking and groaning rides.

Her favourite expression at the moment is for no good reason. Mum! Wil just kicked me for no good reason. Like it would have been OK if there had been a good reason. Or: Mum! Jazzy spazzed out and it was for no good reason!

And there's no photos but I went to a great party last night. It's been a LONG time time since I went to a proper grown up party and it was great. Amazing food. Such amazing food (hey craft retreaters reading - this is who is cooking us dinner on Saturday night - yippee!!). One of my mum's groups mates. It still surprises me sometimes how freakin lucky I was to hook up with that bunch. Such lovely people, such great party throwers.

And because I need to post more and have no time in which to do it, expect more crappy spelling and unplanned rambles. Deal with it.

Oh and it seems I'm going to be on a table at the Stitches and Craft show Wednesday March 12. I am so excited, most especially about the company I will be keeping whilst there. If any of you Melbourne lassies are headed over that way drop me a line so I'll know to look out for you. There might even be a lucky door prize if someone can help me out with transport.