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Halter necks, but I guess you knew that already.
Knitted bolero numbers like this offering from Purl. I'm a remedial knitter but I'm thinking of giving it a try.
Patent leather mary-janes on small people with some rockin' stripes to turn up the volume.
Making tea towel moopies from this book.
The idea that my daughter thinks my legs are this long.
xx
Does anyone else pause, mid-craft project, to ponder whether today's kooky, tattoo-inspired ipod cover will be tomorrow's macramé
potplant holder? Take this wooden cradle for example, I decided to give it some jazz today with new bedding and retire the tired brown gingham.
Will my daughters in ten years time be sighing and rolling their eyes over my dated and tacky fabric choices? Probably.
Actually, my sixteen year old self would be laughing her head off at the following comments I'm about to make:
IRONING:
I now have:
i. an iron,
ii. an ironing board, and as of yesterday I am the owner of:
iii. a bottle of Sonett Starch Spray and Ironing Aid.
And just quietly, I bloody love ironing now, (stop laughing Alison). That spray is hea.ven.ly. We're talking plant starch (organic, baby, organic) and we're talking essential oils of lavender and rose geranium .
Martha wannabe no longer - I am She, Incarnate , The Hostess with the Mostest.( I even ironed my daughters' pillows tonight so that they would have lavender and rose geranium scented dreams. I'm considering moving on to underpants... )
Perhaps I have flipped out on you completely, I know things got a bit strung out a few months ago, but really?...Ironing starch? All I can say is get some, oh ye of little faith. I swear it's lifechanging.
x
Dinner
Dessert (the pears that is)
PS I was caught red-handed in the pear tree yesterday and told, (with a severe glance at my hat-full of fruit), that the pear tree and park were strictly for residents of surrounding apartments. Showing her the rotting fruit on the ground made no difference. I retreated singing a stirring rendition of the Internationale, (reference being entirely lost on her). The Frenchman wants to return under shield of darkness to inscribe a hammer and sickle on the trunk of the tree.
Hope you are having a lovely weekend.
x
I like that Wendy Mullins. She makes things appear so easy. And for some perhaps they are. Not me - nup. You see Lincraft was having a buy one get two free pattern sale (still on too if you're interested). So for the first time I bought a few grown-up patterns of the Built by Wendy variety.
I was attempting this one - seen it a lot around the traps and it looked like p-plate material. I used a cheap spotlight material as a practice and voila. This was the outcome:
Looks nothing like it I hear you say? Damn tootin'.
At the end of the day I don't mind it - don't ask me what I did because I really have no idea. I'm just going to pretend that it was meant to be like this and that I am tipping my metaphorical hat (ironic-like) to the mid eighties off-the shoulder Olivia Newton-John look. In fact I'm off to find myself a pastel lipstick and a co-ordinating neckscarf right now!
x
As much as I would like to launch into a diatribe about the state of the Canberra telecommunications systems, I won't. Let's just say that four and a half weeks sans phone or internet can make one a little twitchy. It's nice to be back. I missed you.
Here are the things I like about Canberra:
Kangaroos 10 minutes from the main drag - no kidding;
Driving with my elbow out the window - no agro, no pollution;
Public schools combining academic excellence, bi-lingualism and an all-round right-on appreciation of social justice;
Living a hop/skip/jump from the National Gallery and National Museum (although gallery attendents are V. Scary and Frowney around children with a penchant for running their hands across Blue Poles. An artwork which, in my humble opinion, is begging to be touched);
Op shops with the MOTHER LOAD of vintage fabric (pictures coming your way soon);
Fruit trees in the garden and midnight raids on the heavily pregnant pear tree around the corner in the ahem public reserve;
Hands down though, the winning entry goes to the Prime Minister's glorious speech outlining the apology to indigenous Australians:
"...Today we honour the Indigenous peoples of this land, the oldest continuing cultures in human history.
We reflect on their past mistreatment.
We reflect in particular on the mistreatment of those who were Stolen Generations – this blemished chapter in our nation’s history.
The time has now come for the nation to turn a new page in Australia’s history by righting the wrongs of the past and so moving forward with confidence to the future.
We apologise for the laws and policies of successive Parliaments and governments that have inflicted profound grief, suffering and loss on these our fellow Australians.
We apologise especially for the removal of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children from their families, their communities and their country.
For the pain, suffering and hurt of these Stolen Generations, their descendants and for their families left behind, we say sorry.
To the mothers and the fathers, the brothers and the sisters, for the breaking up of families and communities, we say sorry.
And for the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people and a proud culture, we say sorry.
We the Parliament of Australia respectfully request that this apology be received in the spirit in which it is offered as part of the healing of the nation..."
Of course we are now awash with apologies in this household. Dollies and teddies are weeping in corners pledging their apologies. The puppet theatre is host to emotional reunions between families of Mr Potato Heads and the hobby horse is doing his best impression of Kevin Rudd's erudite parliamentary style.
Hope you are loving it where you are too! x
