pea soup

and i chopped all my hair off

2012-01-25T00:04:00.001+11:00

this year my youngest will begin high school

this year my eldest shall finish high school

this year my middle child may get his L plates

this year my eldest might get his P plates

this year I shall finish my degree

this year my middle child got his first part time job

this year my parents will return to Victoria to live

this year will see some changes for our family too

knitting will continue.

more summer

2012-01-19T13:24:00.000+11:00

socks for extroverts

2012-01-16T23:15:00.000+11:00

In the midst of pre-flight Christmas Eve mania, packing, delivering animals to their respective holiday camps, etc I had the foresight to sort through my various knitting projects in search of an appropriate aeroplane project. Finding nothing suitable, I grabbed a no name, inoffensive looking ball of yarn, some bamboo needles (in case of security official unpleasantness) and once we were safely past the bumpy take-off bits, I cast on.

Unfortunately I had not had the foresight to look up the instructions for toe-up socks and teach myself that method once and for all (next pair, I always promise myself). And so it was my usual top-down socks. I must love the adrenalin of never being confident there'll be enough yarn to complete the second sock. I live on the edge, me.

There was enough yarn, happily. Even more happily, the yarn knitted up in a wholly unexpected carnivalesque manner. I don't know if carnivalesque is a word, but it should be if only to describe these socks.

a year of making

2012-01-13T21:32:00.000+11:00

My completed knits from 2011. It feels like a humblebrag (thanks, LibraryGirl), but it's always interesting for me to see my knitting statistics from a year. And this is [nominally] a craft blog after all. Apparently.

I see I spent the first half of the year knitting cardigans and jumpers, determined to knit actual garments after my big shawl efforts of 2009 and 2010, but then in the latter half of the year suddenly had the urge to knit shawls again and they became my go to projects once more. There is one shawl missing from that mosaic as it has a half dozen rows to go, but it lives in my office at work and I add to it slowly, despite casting on in July. It will be finished in the next month or so and can go in the 2012 stats.

As for my sewing achievements, I failed to catalogue them properly. I made a doily skirt, and several quilt tops which to my shame I have yet to turn into actual quilts. I also made a number of cushions, some tops, and several pairs of pants which remain unphotographed.

Also, lots of jam, marmalade, soap, bread, meals, and mess.

PS. For those of you more interested in literary news, I updated my 2011 reading log over here.

Happy 2012!

2012-01-07T21:48:00.000+11:00

I hope your Christmas was joyous (joyful?), and that 2012 brings you excellent things.

We went north as usual to the mothership where the weather was wild and the beaches were closed due to cyclones and such. Came home to a house that had flooded on Christmas Day and then been shut up in a week of 40 degree heat. I'll pause there and let you recover from the smell you may be imagining right now. Yes, that's the one.

Collected the beasts from the cathouse and doggerel and they have been loving and sleepy respectively, ever since. Should send them away more often.

Today the boys did their annual Swapping of the Bedrooms and now the boot of my car is chock full of bags of stuff to go to the op shop. In other news, for Christmas the mister and I bought each other half a vacuum cleaner which was a necessity, and half an ice cream maker each which was a luxury. I am now stuffed full of the best strawberry ice cream I have ever tasted and our rugs are clean. We are happy. Plans are being made. It will be a ~~scary~~ big year.

My resolutions for 2012? More knitting. More breathing.

What're yours?

around the house

2011-12-14T10:57:00.000+11:00

Thanks to those who entered the knitting book giveaway; we have a winner! Duchess-declutter, your name came out of the hat. Would you care to send me an email at suseinthesoup[at]gmail[dot]com and I will pop your book in the mail.

2012 calendar

2011-12-08T22:14:00.000+11:00

Yes, it's the annual pea soup calendar, available for purchase (or you can just gawk, but I'd love it if you purchased too) here.

According to the site, they can still guarantee pre-Christmas delivery if you order before the 17th of December. It would make a lovely gift for that awkward-to-buy-for great aunt, or, you know, it might even look pretty on your own kitchen wall.

Also, there's still time to enter the knitting book giveaway. I'll be drawing that at the end of the weekend (Melbourne time) so go to it.

shaelyn ii

2011-12-07T13:34:00.000+11:00

I made the lovely Shaelyn shawl again, as a birthday gift. One day I will make one of these for mine own self. This one is for an old friend who I've known since we were 16 and in high school together, who from now on is facing her birthdays without her identical twin.

This version was made from bamboo yarn as the recipient has a wool allergy and the bamboo gives the finished shawl a lovely drape and subtle sheen. I hope this little knitted hug brings her some small comfort.

Further details and the opportunity to click on that lovely little heart button here.

second light

2011-12-04T21:16:00.000+11:00

The second light of Advent
It is the light of plants
Plants reach up to the sun
And in the breezes, dance.

knitteries and treats

2011-12-03T18:13:00.000+11:00

I made the long and arduous trek to St Kilda recently to meet up with the lovely Mary (who had made a slightly longer and more arduous trek on Jetstar), have a quick dinner, drink, catch up and see Eddie Izzard. What a splendid, splendid evening; I laughed until my face ached. Also I proudly pointed out to Mary the grassy knoll in front of Luna Park where I went into labour for the first time in my life nearly eighteen years ago. She nodded dutifully and appeared appropriately impressed.

Awkward and unrelated segue ...

In other news entirely, the postman was kind to me a while ago and I've been remiss in not posting this.

Nicky Epstein, guru of the fancy flowers and nifty stitches, has put together an invaluable (and beautifully photographed) book of every kind of possible finish for for a knitted edge (eg. collar, hem, cuff) that you could think of - tassels, braids, cables, bobbles, picots, designs both floral and geometric. And the good folk at Soho publishing have sent me a book to give away to one of you, you lucky lucky people.

You know the drill. Leave a comment if you would like a copy and I'll come back next weekend and pick a winner out of the virtual hat. Good luck!

there is another sky, ever serene and fair

2011-11-29T20:56:00.000+11:00

sunrise, mist, golden dawns and a bushfire exercise comprising the CFA, MFB, SES, DSE and various other letters of the alphabet all day long right over my house.

Botanica gloriosa

2011-11-21T22:32:00.001+11:00

Reading Marion Halligan's The Taste of Memory at the moment, which is more a memoir about gardening than food. It's perfect reading material for this warm wet Spring, with my own garden growing like topsy all around me.

The bearded irises flowered, the new white one for one brief but glorious day before torrential rain killed it. I don't know the name of the coppery coloured wonder above, but I was able to enjoy it for at least a week.

I have been determinedly continuing my new practice of only using flowers from our garden for the house, and this week's posy is a pleasing arrangement of ivy, jasmine, rosemary and gone-to-seed parsley all in a rustic jug found at the op shop recently.

I spent a goodly part of yesterday transplanting one of the three westringias from by the swing in the back to the bit of front garden by the driveway. This is a bit of previously ignored garden that until the drought broke, was barren, dry and brown, with earth packed so hard I bent two trowels in half once, trying to scrape a shallow hole to plant in. Now it's lovely diggable soil, so I have put in some grasses, and on the weekend before, a red cordyline which will contrast nicely (I hope) with the grey of the westringia.

The other horticultural inspiration of recent times comes from a visit last week tO the magnificent garden of Shadygrey, a garden full of roses and eucalypts, nooks and crannies and surprises around every bend. I didn't take a single photograph of her garden but snapped one or two in the house, however they remain trapped in my camera so I can't share them. Anyway I returned home full of renewed enthusiasm and immediately pruned the cistus and slashed the purple fountain grass and am even having thoughts of vegetables, which I haven't had since before the heartbreaking drought years. Shady has a Shetland pony plant whose name I've forgotten and I can hardly go to a nursery and ask for the shrub that starts life as a rabbit and ends up a small pony, so I hope she leaves a comment here, hint hint.

PS this post was written in bed, on the iPad, and boy is it tedious typing on this thing. Time for another page or two of Marion Halligan before lights out.

crunchy, with a chance of tie-dye

2011-11-08T14:00:00.003+11:00

Our school fete, this Saturday. It's huge.

The VCE music students are performing their solos in the Eurythmy Room at 1 o'clock. In amongst those performances there should be ~~one or possibly two movements of 'Spring' from Vivaldi's Four Seasons~~ Bach's partita in D minor although from the nonchalance exhibited around the house this week (read: distinct lack of practice), there may possibly not be.

I've been rostered on for rubbish duty at, wait for it, 1 o'clock. Sigh. Have to find someone to swap my shift with.

structured procrastination

2011-11-06T14:45:00.000+11:00

[] five loads of laundry. check.

[] base of taps scrubbed around with old toothbrush. check.

[] spring garden photodocumented. check.

[] mango chutney made. check.

[] mantlepiece rearranged. check.

[] all beds changed followed by essential sorting of linen cupboard. check.

[] structured procrastination instructions consulted. check.

[] essay ...

Shaelyn

2011-10-31T12:09:00.000+11:00

For my cousin on her 50th birthday.

A lightweight, airy shawl. Perfect for evenings in her tropical part of the country.

Knitted, dyed and delivered last weekend along with the one for her mother's 80th birthday - they had a mother-daughter joint birthday reunion at The Windsor and thoroughly spoilt each other! Ravelled here.

On a more sobre note, the week was soured by the devastating news that, with no warning or consultation, the Steiner stream at Footscray City Primary School, where all three of our boys ~~attended~~ flourished before we moved to the other side of town, is to be axed at the end of December. Needless to say the families directly affected are reeling. They're also now angry and taking action. If you care about proper community consultation, due process, and/or the provision of alternative educational methods in our school system, I urge you to visit their website, sign the petition, write to the minister and if you can, attend the rally this Sunday 6th November in the Treasury Gardens. Please support this fabulous school and the wider Steiner/Waldorf community by spreading the word. Thanks.

Terra redux

2011-10-24T22:20:00.000+11:00

For my aunt on her 80th birthday.

Enormous, soft and cuddly.

I finished knitting it on Friday night, blocked it Saturday night, delivered it Sunday morning.

I think she liked it.

I do.

Ravelled here.

a bit more about my new shawl

2011-10-19T13:16:00.001+11:00

I said the Terra shawl wouldn't get its own post but I changed my mind. I love this shawl so much - it's enormous enough to really wrap yourself up in, and the yarn (Bendigo Woollen Mills Rustic in 'graphite') has a lovely drape and extreme squish factor.

I neglected to mention that I didn't have the pattern but just winged it, with (it must be admitted) only moderate success. The last two lace repeats are slightly dodgy due to the excessive fudging of numbers, and one day I may rip it out and redo those bits because I now have the pattern. I know, I should have just bought it at the start and followed the instructions as clearly, Jared Flood is a better shawl designer than I. Anyway I now have the pattern and have almost finished another one in a lighter grey Pear Tree Yarn, this time for my aunt.

Don't look too closely at the dodgy bits, just marvel at its impressive wingspan, ok? Then go and knit this shawl. Seriously, you need to. (Hint: use the pattern).

I've been on a[nother] serious shawl kick lately. Not only have I finished this charcoal one and nearly completed the light grey version, but have only ten rows to go on my office shelf project which is a stripy green and black number, and have cast off and dyed red a lightweight Shaelyn shawl for my cousin (daughter of the aforementioned recipient of the grey shawl). Lots to show and tell when I get a minute.

For those of you who asked, Son #2 loved camp. After a year filled with camps (Year 9 - six camps!) this one was the 'no technology' camp, which means they camp with just the bare necessities; no tents, sleeping bags, sleeping mats, stoves, backpacks or raingear. They each take three woollen blankets rolled up into a swag and tied with a belt or rope, with one change of clothes tucked within. They toss a week's worth of food (lightweight, no packaging etc), a cup, bowl and spoon, a billy and some matches into a dilly bag which they have made themselves (Son #2 can be seen sewing his bag here). The camp teacher gives each child a large piece of heavy duty black plastic which serves as their sleeping mat and/or shelter, raincoat, and swag cover. Then they set off and canoe through the flooded Barmah Forest for a week while their parents worry about them. Upon arrival home they downplay matters such as near hypothermia (extended swimming in the icy river), extreme cold at night (three blankets being almost sufficient but not quite) and sunburn (yeah I must have missed a bit with the sunblock), and instead focus on how AWESOME it all was. Thank heavens.

And now if you'll excuse me I have to finish a grey shawl by Sunday and bake a cake for the school Spring Fair on Saturday, in addition to becoming a cello virtuoso in time for our ~~performance~~ "gig" at said Fair.

(We do like to say band and gig. We are so mature).

this week ...

2011-10-08T21:17:00.001+11:00

• I forgot to buy my regular bunch of lilies when I did the weekly shop so I picked a posy from the garden. Must do this more often.

the wormwood perked up after ten minutes in the water, even though it looks sad and floppy here

• we are rabbit-sitting the next door neighbours' little black lop eared bunny. Soooo sweet. Please lawd, do not let the thing die while it's on our watch.

• Son #2 got out the sewing machine, propped it on the kitchen bench and made a dilly bag (for camp next week) while I cooked risotto. Good to have company in the kitchen. Good to see a 15 year old boy sew, too.

He threaded up the machine like a pro and when I checked it was perfect. Oh Mum, he scoffed, I've done it a thousand times at school! Gotta love that Steiner education.

• Wore my new shawl. I finished this just before we went off on the gypsy wagon and wore it a lot on camp. With embroidered peasant skirts and gold teeth, while playing the accordion. Ok I lie, but I wore it with jeans. (Modern gypsies wear jeans).

The shawl should probably have its own post. (But it'll have to be content with this). It's the Terra shawl from Brooklyn Tweed and seriously, I had to cast on for this shawl because I was starting to dream about it. I was obsessed, I tell you. The pattern didn't particularly grab me when it first came out but then I started to see lots of rustic-yarned versions on Ravelry, and then this sent me over the edge. My version is Ravelled here for those of you who need the full gory details.

• Sent this photo to a friend who collects faces in inanimate objects.

• Was grateful to live in an age of antibiotics and Panadol. And cranberry juice. Gawd.

• Laughed at the dog who has done little more than this since we came home from our holiday.

Did I show you this? After the first day of trotting behind the wagon he chose to ride indoors.

• Missed Penny the Clydesdale.

• Got an iPad at work! Having fun with it. Have told the boys it's very sad but the institution's insurance policy means *I'm* the only one allowed to touch it. Ahem.

• Sewed another strippy-quilty-patchworky cushion cover.

• Received a gorgeous knitting book. Stand by for a giveaway soon.

Ciao.

what i did on my holiday

2011-10-03T13:30:00.000+11:00

Full set of photos here. Horse and wagon booked from these folk.

how many

2011-09-24T21:10:00.000+10:00

bottles of red wine
knitting projects
blocks of chocolate
woolly hats
books
packets of marshmallows
dogs
and
children

does one pack for a week of camping?

making and doing

2011-09-14T14:46:00.000+10:00

The essay on medieval textiles wasn't actually on the textiles themselves, but focused rather on the use of religious imagery on household textiles and clothing in the pre-iconoclastic period. But it necessitated some very fun research on textiles from that era and I now have rather a large wishlist over on Book Depository on textiles through the ages and some plotting going on in my head regarding future research. If I can stomach the thought of more years of The Juggle, that is.

Other doings :: thinking, writing, working, knitting. Packing another child off to camp - this time it was Son #1 heading off for a week of rock climbing camp with the other Year 11s before they have to knuckle down to end of year exams. Practising the cello as we have two performances looming large (or gigs, as we like to say. We also call our lessons band practice, rather than middle-aged ladies beginner strings group. Sad, yes).

Makings :: a skirt. Linen from Lincraft, doily from the op shop.

Channelling Dottie Angel only without the chickens.

A strippy red cushion cover to go with the strippy red quilt top which will one day be a complete quilt draped over my blue couch.

Another cushion cover which I now realise as I look at this photo, isn't quite as randomly pieced as intended.

And a square of pieced fabrics which was meant to become a sort of patchworked project bag but turned out to be utterly the wrong shape, so will probably become another cushion cover. Or maybe not, as I seem to have made quite a few these days. Don't know what's with that. (Well, probably the lure of small, achievable projects. Unlike say, quilts, or PhDs on medieval textiles).

scenes from a craft camp

2011-09-07T22:24:00.002+10:00

There was a great deal of laughter, an awful lot of cream, plenty of industry, nourishment (spiritual and physical), exchange, book talk, an essay (on medieval textiles, appropriately), knitting, sewing, quilting, crocheting, op shopping and a crossword. All at the wonderful Sewjourn.

J, S, K, K, C, G, T, J and E, thank you so much.

Full set of photos here.

the totally bearable lightness of being

2011-08-31T22:50:00.002+10:00

Spring brings it. That lifting of the weight you hadn't even realised was there.

The air is mild rather than biting, the swallows have returned as they do every August to their little mud nest above the laundry door, and all the cliches of Spring come rushing to the fore.

Yesterday we had ducks wandering about the back garden, quacking mildly at the dog and I through the glass back door. This morning we were eating our muesli and Son #1 said Mum, quick! Out the window! And there was our old friend the Swamp Wallaby.

He ignored the totem tennis in favour of the [plentiful, ahem] weeds. Then when he noticed the camera pointing at him through the window he moved to the side garden bed. I followed him ... and pointed the camera at him from my bedroom window.

He is bigger than I remember, assuming it's our semi-regular wallaby of course. I do like to think it's the same little chap year after year. He's looking a little worse for wear these days with his grey muzzle and chunk missing out of one ear.

Unlike the ever more relaxed cat, I'm feeling slightly Spring-mad this year. An essay to complete, a new [to us] car and all the associated research and paperwork, a family holiday to plan, a sore throat to combat, craft camp to plan and pack for (two more sleeps), and fresh plans for new lace knitting. It's all a bit fraught n' frantic and here I am blogging instead of finishing the essay so I can breathe that enormous sigh of relief, execute the Happy Dance of Completion and feel the last scrap of weight lift from my shoulders and float away into the middle distance.

By the way, I wanted to thank you for your enormous collection of podcast suggestions. I made a complete list and have been having a marvellous time listening to them on my commute. When I've thoroughly sampled them all I'll post a consolidated list with review notes (because that's how I roll). In the meantime, even though I swore I would never make my poor, embarrassed offspring the focus of my blog, here's another shot of Son #3 who was recently promoted to the first [soccer] team. I recorded his first match for posterity.

do the macchiato with me

2011-08-29T11:28:00.001+10:00

The other night I took a deep breath and pulled out a whole month's worth of lace knitting. It was a silk shawl that I had had high hopes for, but the yarn and pattern were just not made for each other.

So I sniffled a bit, and then made a cosy instead, for a friend who likes her coffee HOT.

Ravelled here if you need the low down on how to make a coffee cosy of your very own. Just don't speak to me about shawls.

Book Week costume :: The Hobbit

2011-08-26T15:07:00.001+10:00

That staff came in handy after all.

PS. Seeing that first photograph uploaded made me sit him down in the kitchen and CUT THAT HAIR.

we have a winner!

2011-08-13T19:57:00.000+10:00

The random number generator thingy spat out comment number 29, which means Leonie is the winner of Rae's book The Eve Tree. Congratulations Leonie - shoot me an email at suseinthesoup[at]gmail[dot]com with your address and I'll post your book.

Not much else of interest around here at the moment. I'm researching cars as my current work vehicle lease is up soon, the eldest and I are doing the rounds of the university open days looking at their music studies options, the middle is preparing for his next camp, the youngest is scooting along nicely, the dog is being doggy, the cat is being hilarious, the husband is playing/watching/coaching/breathing soccer day in day out, and my strings sextet chose its name in a hurry when our teacher informed us we have two performances coming up so we'd need a name (we are now known as Highly Strung, after rejecting String Bags). (For those of you who remember talk of The Mighty Cellos last year, I had to drop out of that group as they were all quite accomplished musicians who sped waaaaay ahead of me very quickly and I got all stressed and distressed. Now I'm in another beginners group where we are all real beginners. I mean, reeeeaaall beginners ;) Phew.

cobblestone

2011-08-06T19:09:00.002+10:00

I made the mister a jumper.

This is only the second jumper I've ever knitted for him. Because the first one took twelve years (I kid you not). You can see it here and gaze at how little my children were and how I only had three readers back then. Awwwww, look at Son #3. So wee, like a little elf.

But I digress. Look at his new jumper! The pattern is the cobblestone, by Jared Flood and it was a pleasure to knit. It's green. And, it fits him. Bonus. Happy belated birthday, darling!

And yes, some of you may recognise that it's resting peacefully on my magnificent quilt, made by the gracious and talented Tracey.

Ravelled here if you're interested in the details.

PS. Apparently it's my "birthday" today. The mister was caught by surprise by a soccer colleague who demanded to know why we were not going to a certain [very expensive] club fundraiser tonight and instead of just saying honestly "Look, we would love to support the club but just now we really can't afford it" (I think he was a bit embarrassed to say that, probably) he replied "Um, we can't come, it's my wife's ... um ... birthday!"

And so, I have demanded cake. Well, wouldn't you?

PS. I'll leave the book giveaway open for a few more days.

a little book talk (and giveaway)

2011-08-01T23:05:00.001+10:00

rosemary-leaved grevillea

The photos are unrelated; I'm just enjoying the blooms of late winter so I thought you might too.

Standing in my driveway one wintry morning, looking across the road

Do you read Rae's blog? If you don't, you really should. It's quite a gem. And now she's written a book. A book! I feel ridiculously proud of her, my imaginary Canadian friend who lives this exotic life with her husband and four children in India and has now written her first novel. I think I'm the last person to review Rae's book The Eve Tree, for which I feel bad, but, well, there were reasons. At first the book didn't arrive, so the publishing company sent another one, but it was in the middle of essay-writing time so I didn't get to pick it up, and then (you know what I'm going to say, don't you?), the first book turned up. So now I had two unread copies on my bedside table, taunting me, wafting waves of guilt over my head as I slept.

um, a photogenic clump of grass. with cobwebs.

But lo, the day arrived when semester was over and I was free to read whatever I WANTED to read, and that included Rachel Devenish Ford's The Eve Tree. (It also included Geraldine Brooks' Caleb's Crossing, and Peter Hoeg's Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow, two very different but equally unputdownable books. So it's been a rather rewarding semester break in terms of my personal reading).

hardenbergia growing along the roadsides everywhere

The Eve Tree is a tale that will resonate with anyone who has a connection to the land they call home, or who has faced the threat of natural disasters, or has a complicated relationship with her mother, or mental illness, or makes cheese or keeps goats or has a mother. Everyone basically. Rae writes simply and honestly about a family living in the redwood forests of California, dealing with each other and the very real threat of losing their beloved farm to a forest fire.

the froth of euphorbia wulfenii

The central character Molly, is beautifully drawn. She's fragile but with a powerful undercurrent of ferocious strength and determination, she is flawed, cranky, loving, contradictory. Molly will get under your skin and live on in your brain long after you close the book with a sigh and put the light out. She's very real. The story feels very real and there are some lovely little pearls of poetry in the deceptively simple language.

daphne in my garden, about to do its thing

I'm kind of in awe when people I know write books. Even imaginary people who live in my computer. And I'm thrilled to hear that another novel from Rae is in the works already.

the first daffs, also in my garden

Anyway, remember I said I ended up with two copies of The Eve Tree? Well with Rae's blessing, I am giving away one copy to one of you. Leave a comment if you would like a chance to receive this beautiful debut novel, and I'll pull a name out of the virtual hat next week. Or if you can't wait to find out if your name is the one drawn, go here and buy a copy now.

Edited to add, lots of people are asking so I should clarify that yes, I will post internationally. Enter away.

further dissemination

2011-07-20T12:29:00.001+10:00

of random materials. Or, I've run out of carefully themed posts.

The dog was pricked and poked in the undignifieds the other day by the vet, rather than the cat as is per usual. Poor beast, seemingly everybody is against him. He has the Soulful Expression down pat as you can see, and when performed together with the All Over Body Quiver of Terror he has Son #2 wrapped around his little ~~finger~~ paw.

Son #3 is now a tea drinker. He asked me to record this for posterity.

Latest knitting. I'm trying to ignore its siren call while I finish the mister's birthday jumper, but it lies there all green and alluring, tempting me with its soothing garter stitch.

I recently discovered the wonder of podcasts (I know, I'm sooo cutting edge ...) and have been listening to them on my commute lately rather than audio books. I've found one or two I enjoy but would love to hear your recommendations. Any favourites or must-listens out there? (Continuing with bookish matters, I'm halfway through two fabulous books and just finished another equally enthralling one, and, I will be coming back here in a day or two with a review and a book giveaway so stand by. [I love saying that, it makes me feel all official]).

And in yet more exciting news, Susie from flower+press interviewed me yesterday as part of her regular Show and Tell series. You can read the interview here and leave a comment telling Susie how gorgeous her blog is. And buy some of her fabric (I can personally attest to its loveliness). Thanks so much Susie.

different lines

2011-07-18T19:50:00.001+10:00

I should title this post "tis the season part II", or "more knits for my neck, sorry for the lack of variety lately".

So. Meet my latest shawl. More of a scarf really as it's quite petite. The pattern is Different Lines from the brilliant Veera, and is a variation of her Stripes Study shawl pattern. I've cast on for that one too, in green and charcoal (yes I found a use for those yarns I dyed), so look out for yet another "tis the season" post, you lucky lucky people.

I knitted this in two sock yarns, one charcoal and the other an undyed natural cream, but when it was finished the cream looked a most unattractive shade of dirty off white so I threw the shawl into a sort of grape-purple dyebath (cherry Kool Aid, courtesy of my American ~~crack~~ Kool Aid dealer, with a dash of black food colouring) and this is what happened.

The natural yarn turned a slightly more fetching shade of plum, but I was surprised at the extent to which the dark grey took up the purple dye, as it's now a very deep aubergine. That is, except for the final couple of dozen stitches on the bind off which were done in a different grey because I ran out of yarn so subbed in with a mystery grey thread from the stash which took up the dye at a different rate (ie. not at all). Sigh. I'm telling myself it's not noticeable. If you can spot it in the photos I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW. (I just looked at this photo; it is indeed noticeable. I just also noticed how appallingly creased the shawl is. It'd been in my overnight bag for a couple of days as I took it away with me to the sheep & wool show which reminds me ... stash enhancement and woolly tales to come! Anyway apologies for the lack of artfully styled and carefully pressed knitwear photos).

I notice the house needs repainting too. Amazing what you notice only in photos.

Moving ON.

Anyway, post-dyeing I quite like the shawl, and it matches my glasses now too which are a kind of aubergine/plum so, um, bonus! I feel all styled and matchy-matchy when I wear it. Like I did it on purpose or somesuch.

God it really is crumpled, isn't it.

The pattern is brilliant and so clever in its construction. The secret is short rows, of course. It's also highly addictive and fast (I cast this on in order to have a lightweight knitting project in my handbag for the sheep show, but it was done and dusted before I even left on Friday night so I simply had to cast on another project, hence the green and charcoal version currently in progress). Also, garter stitch, yum.

Recommended.

Vital statistics ravelled here.

PS. I'm appearing in an interview tomorrow; I feel so important. Details to come. Edited to add: the interview is up! Read it here, and thank you so much Susie. I'm blushing furiously.

tis the season

2011-07-13T12:08:00.003+10:00

to warm one's neck

Boy it's damp and wintry around here. I've been madly knitting things to go around my neck in a desperate attempt to stave off drafts. The red one in particular has not left my neck my for days on end (it's long enough to wear doubled for extra snuggle factor).

For those pointy-stick obsessed amongst you who are interested in the details, both cowls are ravelled, here and here.

Other stuff:
• The laptop hardrive died, leaving me in mourning for all the photos I didn't get around to backing up or uploading to Flickr (probably not many, but enough to miss), and in shock over losing the accounting software that we use for the mister's business, (now out of date, meaning we can't reload it). The laptop died a couple of days after the end of financial year, before I had a chance to finalise the accounts. Ouch. A whole year lost, and now I have to find a new bookkeeping software package. Recommendations welcome. Commiserations, also.

• Off to see the final instalment of Harry Potter in a couple of hours. My children have grown up with these books and films, so it feels like a real milestone in our lives. The older two may go again later with their own friends, but today we are all going together. The family that sobs together, stays together. Or something ...

• Speaking of milestones, there is only one member of the household shorter than I am now. I'm thinking of putting a brick on his head.

• I'm going to the wool show this weekend with my fellow knittery, woolly, textiley Steiner school mums. Hip hip!

toasty

2011-06-26T18:31:00.002+10:00

These are a gift. One of the mums at school gave me an enormous bag of alpaca yarn in greens, browns and natural greys. I offered to knit her a little something as a thank you and she requested grey fingerless gloves (she previously bought a pair of [similar, but ribbed] green fingerless gloves of mine at the school's Twilight Market so she knew she liked them).

Alpaca yarn, roughly sport weight, held double. Just in time for midwinter - it's freezing these days.

Ravelled here.

PS. Look! The 12 year old hand model (the final photo) decided to stop biting his nails a couple of weeks ago. He went cold turkey and now his nails are lovely.

PPS. The blog, she is six! Such a big girl now.

just another random Saturday

2011-06-25T17:52:00.000+10:00

A shipload of sock yarn all dyed up in greens and charcoals. Knit it up myself or fire up the defunct shop?

He still bites. He's still gorgeous and loving when he feels like it. His favourite snoozing spot is the pink chaise.

Son #2 went on the big 16-day farming camp that the Year 9s always go on. They work hard on the farm, and in their free time most of them make bush furniture. When Son #1 went two years ago he brought home a magnificent stool he'd made, which he uses as his guitar stool. Son #2 decided to get in touch with his inner hobbit, and made ... a staff.

I'm threatening to sew him a velvet green cloak. Note, he refused to pose with his [admittedly, rather wonderful] staff.

It's cobweb season again here in Cobweb Country. Usually they're the single thread sort which appear overnight, but this amazing web appeared in my kitchen the other morning, strung between the recipe stand on the kitchen bench and the pots 'n pans rack hanging from the ceiling and complete with miniscule spider in its centre. I couldn't bear to destroy such a work of art, but by the next day it had disappeared.

Son #3 finishing the last couple of pages of Lord of the Rings. Puffing out his cheeks in exasperation at glancing up and finding the camera on him. Oh Muuu-uuum.

midwinter

2011-06-23T07:13:00.001+10:00

choc top

2011-06-18T21:16:00.000+10:00

Bonnet. I think bonnet is one of the loveliest of words. Sort of bonny and wee all rolled into one. Bonnet.

I'm a tight knitter and I launched right into knitting this with no swatch or upsizing of needles so it doesn't actually fit me. (Thankfully, said the ever critical offspring).

It fits the 12 year old son rather well but I'm having a hard time convincing him of the merits of a supersoft chocolate bonnet, complete with little chin ties.

The pattern is Jejeune's rather adorable Pauline, available for free on Ravelry if you have a hankering for a wee bonnet of your own.

Mine is Ravelled here.

some more craft weekend photos

2011-06-15T22:10:00.000+10:00

I spent a large amount of time at craft weekend exclaiming that I hadn't taken a single photo all weekend, and then all of a sudden in the last few hours I felt the need to get the camera out. I think it was the sudden appearance of dramatically angled sunbeams that did it.

Or the Barbie Yoga.

The weekend was as wonderful as these weekends always are with a gloriously harmonious tribe of women who just get it with no explanation or compromise necessary. Everyone fits, newcomers are enveloped into the fold effortlessly, and the hum hums on, punctuated by oohs of delight, cracks of laughter and endless cups of tea.

No mice this time! But a Golden Orb Weaver wove her web next to the iron lace outside the window while we wove and stitched inside. Rather fitting.

I could go on and on about it but you've heard it all before and I just sat an exam this afternoon so am a little weary. Time to knit the thumbs on a pair of fingerless gloves and have an early night. Ooh, I was just handed a cup of tea so I think I'll skip the thumbs, go directly to the early night and not pass go.

PS. Son #1 had two exams today (one 'good', one 'well, okaaay ...') and is equally weary. He has a music exam tomorrow and when I gently suggested perhaps tonight ought to be spent revising he calmly replied Oh music, no need. There's not much I don't know. Oh the confidence of youth. (In his defence, he did snort out loud when he realised what he'd actually said).

PPS. Full set of craft weekend shots here.

PPS. Thanks to Janet, Kate, Catherine, Mim, Sue and Jenny for another fab weekend.

Nighty night.

i went to craft camp

2011-06-08T12:42:00.000+10:00

and made a red strippy quilt top

Yes, same construction as my green strippy quilt top and my pink strippy quilt top. Not terribly original, but I love playing with the different combinations of shade and pattern.

More craft camp photos later ...

heralds of winter

2011-06-01T12:17:00.001+10:00

The first day of winter means fires

murky mists

and new cardigans.

This is my second tea leaves cardigan. I was so thrilled with my red version that I immediately cast on a charcoal one. Same yarn, different colourway.

It is, of course, Ravelled. Here.

Vital statistics
Pattern :: Tea Leaves
Yarn :: Morris & Sons Woollahra 10ply/worsted
Colour :: Peppercorn
Needles :: 4mm and 4.5mm
Started :: February 2011
Finished :: May 2011

I'm off on craft camp this weekend where there will be more mist (probably), more fires (definitely) more knitting and sewing (absolutely), and more jocularity than you can poke a stick at. See you on the other side, my friends.

it wasn't even May the 4th

2011-05-27T14:08:00.000+10:00

Scene: Earlier this week. My car, on the way to school. Son #3 and classmate/carpool companion in the backseat, engaging in a mock Star Wars battle.

Son #3: (whacking his friend with an imaginary light sabre) I'm Darth Maul! I shall kill you! (thwhack!)

Carpool Kid: I'm Darth Vader, I shall kill YOU! (THWACK!)

Son #3: Well, I'm Darth Sion! I shall kill YOU! (THWACK THWACK THWACK!)

Me: (in best mock Patient Earthmother type voice, pretending they're four instead of twelve years old) Now now Darths, no hitting. Use your words.

[ ... ]

Son #3: I'm Darth Thesaurus. I shall kill you with my words!

got the blues

2011-05-21T19:57:00.001+10:00

No words this week, just photos.

New cardi, in Madeline Tosh yarn.

Ravelled, with copious working notes and more photos.

jammin'

2011-05-14T23:03:00.001+10:00

I'm in the middle of end of semester assessment so think of this as a page marker.

I took advantage of the end of autumn fruit glut and restocked the pantry with plum jam, plum sauce and feijoa and plum jam.

A couple of jars went to the neighbours and my generous feijoa donor, and the rest went straight into storage. If I can refrain from hiding in the pantry, sneaking spoonsful straight from the jar, I'm hoping the supply lasts us until next autumn.

PS. The fab preserving labels came from a lovely reader across the ditch.

PPS. Feijoa info here for those who asked.

makings and a barter (edited)

2011-05-14T17:32:00.000+10:00

I made this cushion for a friend's birthday recently. A birthday featuring a zero (no, not that one, the next one, which my circle of friends are now beginning to experience). The gathering was of a select group of 'inspiring women', (no male partners involved much to their collective chagrin) and boy were there some inspiring women there. Lots of CEOs, heads of departments and ~~scary~~ inspiring women with Important Jobs. The birthday ~~girl~~ woman spoke personally about each and every guest during her speech which was very touching and impressive but also served to make those of us who know her not through our high powered employment (but via book club or the gym) giggle even more nervously as we waited over in Under Achievers Corner to hear what she would say about us. (She said lovely things of course, but what we "do" didn't feature. Funny about that).*

* Edited to add: I think I've been misinterpreted, as evidenced by a couple of comments. The most recent commenter said s/he hoped my friend doesn't read this post. While I have answered in the comments, I'm copying it here in case my friend does indeed read this one day and similarly thinks I'm having a go, although I don't think she would. My reply in the comments:
Why, is it offensive? I thought (hoped) I made it clear that while my [very dear] friend knows many high flying women, she also values other more humbly-employed folk such as myself and finds us inspiring for what must clearly be reasons other than our employment.

I was trying to show that it was my insecurities (and those of the other 2 women who together joked about Under Achievers Corner) about how one is so often judged, often by oneself, for what one does in this world, rather than any prejudice on my friend's part. Also as I pointed out, my friend said lovely things about me and why she found my fellow bookgroup pals and I inspiring.

Anyway I was so pleased with the cushion that I made another one for our own blue and red loungeroom. It looks fabulous on the dark blue couch, so much so that I am now in the middle of making a matching strippy quilt. Gah! Must stop making strippy quilt tops, and start actually constructing quilts with tops, middles and backs.

The giant granny square rug is also finished. Wow, that was addictive. All housework, knitting, reading, and consideration of any members of my family went out the window for two or three weeks while I obsessively hooked, hooked and hooked some more.

It had the added advantage of using up ~~a great deal~~ a modest proportion of my yarn stash, about which I was becoming more and more uneasy. And we all know what happens when one reduces one's embarrassingly large stash. One experiences the dizzying heights of the moral high ground for approximately a week, and then one is entirely justified in taking advantage of the strongest Australian dollar in centuries and ordering more yarn. I am resisting further guilt by telling myself a) it was on sale and b) instead of less useful single skeins, purchasing a garment's worth (oh ok, two garments' worth) is far better value. (Any discussion of Yarn Miles will be shelved for another day, thank you).

The rug lives on the green couch in the general family living area (as opposed to the red and blue loungeroom) and looks very fetching. It is the perfect size for snuggling under with a book and a large English Breakfast. The cat approves also.

And finally, I made more soap. Soap fulfills several functions - it washes one quite beautifully (and fragrantly if you throw in cloves from the pantry or rosemary from the garden - added bonus if you have teenage boys in the home) and is a far more satisfying procrastinatory device than, say, playing Wordtwist on facebook. (See dizzying heights, moral high ground etc).

Ok. Have any of you seen the new bloggy barter thing going on? I like the idea, but prefer to test the waters here first with a smaller audience of my own gentle readers. *Takes big breath*. If anyone's interested, there are two things I would be very keen to receive right now. I would like to offer five bars of my soap in exchange for either one skein of Malabrigo Merino Worsted yarn in the colourway 'Amoroso',

which is the red/pink that looks like this when knitted up:

or, a little selection of quilting (or similar) fabrics in patterned reds, to help out with the aforementioned red strippy quilt to match aforepictured cushion.

Any takers? If you are interested and would like to leave a comment, please make sure I can contact you in return. (I'm talking to those of you who have made your profiles private. Just leave an email address in your comment or of course email me directly at suseinthesoup[at]gmail[dot]com).

ps. I've had a few folk ask if I am selling my soap. Sadly, to sell soap one needs several thousand dollars of insurance, so it's largely impossible unless, say, you were interested in buying a used match or a safety pin for $10, which happens to come with three bars of free soap. Hmmm, on second thoughts, better not.

the old lie

2011-04-25T19:43:00.000+10:00

Anzac Day, 2011

Dulce et Decorum est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

the Easter tree that is no more

2011-04-25T17:38:00.000+10:00

Thanks to the cat.

lids for kids

2011-04-20T09:03:00.002+10:00

When one's brain is full of essay material but it needs more time to percolate and bubble, knitting keeps the fingers busy and allows the mind to process thoughts and structure an argument. It's far more productive than sitting in front of a blank Word document, fighting (and losing) the temptation to flip over to the party side of the computer and catch up on friends' doings on facebook.

Alert readers usually recognise an imminent deadline when they see a complete blog revamp. This time I'm enhancing the gift stash with useful baby items and feeling very smug about it.

Both projects have been ravelled.

I've also been regularly updating my reading log if you're interested. It's over there on the left, under Not Just Cookbooks.

the great potato famine of 2011

2011-04-11T12:35:00.000+10:00

I harvested our potato crop on the weekend.

Yeah, go me.

autumn snapshot

2011-04-08T21:35:00.007+10:00

reading :: Ransom by David Malouf. A great take on the most interesting chapter in The Iliad. A journey into the minds of Achilles and Priam, and Idaeus, quite unlike the original which does not dwell on any of the characters' interior lives. The ultimate fan fiction. Loved it.

listening [in the car] :: my very first Georgette Heyer experience. Devil's Cub. Someone said Heyer's books are like Mills and Boon romances - not true! There is nary a swelling bosom* in sight let alone a throbbing anything thankyouverymuch, plus the menfolk wear lace and rouge to boot. It's far more reminiscent of Jane Austen with its sly humour and sarcasm, and misunderstood young ladies of modest means who nevertheless are of aristocratic ancestry and are thus entirely worthy of the noble rakes against whose attractions they struggle. The narrator of this audiobook is particularly wonderful at voices and accents (and sly humour). A pleasure.

*Update, Saturday. Just dropped off a child at soccer and on the way home listened to 5 more minutes. Heard "Juliana's bosom swelled [...]" however it was in indignation rather than anything else so points there.

knitting :: a charcoal tweedy cardigan and a luscious blue patterned yoke cardigan. One at work and one at home. Both about two thirds completed.

crocheting :: a giant granny square rug omg I am addicted and cannot stop

ignoring :: the sewing together of the 90 black edged crochet squares into an afghan rug

eating :: fabulous organic hot cross buns from the school fundraiser

drinking :: a cleanskin merlot which is going down quite nicely on a Friday night

enjoying :: the end of term Easter celebration at Son #3's school - singing, hot cross buns and fruit, school strings group playing in the vegie garden in the early morning autumn light

planning :: June craft weekend, only eight weeks away

hoping :: to see Never Let Me Go at the cinema sometime this weekend

baking :: orange cake from Cookery the Strayan Way and bread from the Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day website (it took longer than 5 minutes)

working :: nuff said

studying :: narratives of war throughout the ages

fighting :: the good fight. Still. Sigh.

despairing :: men behaving badly

singing :: Yuki, Yuki baby ... when I get home from work and want a cuddle from the badcat (to the tune of 'Jamie Baby', from Truly Madly Deeply)

drying :: herbs from my garden for soap making

L to R lemon thyme, common garden thyme, rosemary, lemon verbena.

hooked

2011-04-04T13:43:00.001+10:00

Addicted again.

Grannies for Sarah London's Crochet a Rainbow appeal. She is collecting grannies throughout 2011 if you care to contribute, and the appeal has been extended to cover flood, earthquake and now tsunami survivors.

Finally sorted through the enormous bag of grannies I found at the op shop for $5 way back in the mists of time, threw out those whose glitter ratio could not quite be borne despite being virtually freebies, whipped up a few more and edged every.single.one. in black. Now to put all of together into a blanket and see if 90 are enough. That should take another three years, I reckon.

To ensure it does take a full three years, I have embarked on another project. (Shut up. I know you do that too). A giant granny square lap blanket. In slightly more restful colours.

Hooked.

various family health updates fyi

2011-03-31T13:27:00.002+11:00

The broken wing is slowly mending within its lime green, glow-in-the-dark fingers to shoulder casing. Did I tell you it ended up being a three day hospital stay? However he was in the teenage ward with two anorexic girls who looked as though they'd been there for some weeks, which puts broken bones into perspective, really. We are grateful, all up.

In other news, the cat improves daily and our scars are fading.

As you can see we've even progressed to upside down chin scratches which is something no one would have dared even contemplate a month ago. We pick him up quite fearlessly these days. So brave!

retreating

2011-03-26T23:28:00.000+11:00

So, craft retreat. Feels soooo long ago due to the hefty doses of Life between then and now. Mmm, what shall I tell you? There was sun ...

... rain ...

sunsets

and gold.

There were glimpses of autumn

where ever you looked

and roses everywhere.

We sewed in the sunlight ...

... beneath a rising moon,

and into the night.

New skills were acquired,

the irons were constantly in use,

and I laughed so hard I couldn't hold the camera steady.

I do love these women.

And these weekends away together.

For me, craft retreat is as much about the retreat as it is about the craft. One of my favourite moments this time was waking up with a start on the first morning at the rather late hour of 9 o'clock (it had been an early start on Friday morning at home with the alarm set for 5.00 am due to a breakfast meeting at work, only to be startled into consciousness at 4.00 am by my phone beeping in my ear (my phone is my alarm clock) with a text message from a friend with a sketchy understanding of time zones. Once we'd recovered from the adrenalin rush and realised no one had died I answered the mister's bleary query with Oh just my friend in America. She's knitting and thought of me. [...] Riiiight, he muttered).

But I digress. So I finally woke up on Saturday and realised the cottage was silent. I stumbled out, thinking everyone must've been over at the studio and had been probably for hours, only to find the sun streaming through the lounge room windows and four bodies variously and silently lounging about the couches and at the table, each engrossed in a book and clutching a hot drink. A mere one person was in the studio and two more were still in bed. Oh this is my tribe all right, I thought.

There are always many such moments at craft retreat with these wise, wonderful [and sometimes wacky] women.

Through the looking glass, into a weekend wonderland.

Even more photos are here.

you can knit almost a whole sock during a two day* hospital stay

2011-03-20T19:27:00.001+11:00

I was going to blog about craft camp yesterday, having spent most of the midweek evenings uploading a shipload of photos to Flickr. But life, you know. Happens.

So have a look at a photo of some yarn instead and I'll tell you about craft weekend another time.

Yesterday Son #1 broke his wrist so thoroughly it required surgery and two nights in hospital. Two nights! Hopefully he gets to come home tomorrow. He's fine, and not in much pain any more so please don't worry on our behalf, just send us some good sleep vibes if you would.

It's been quite A Hospital Weekend. On Friday night I went straight from work to the Royal Children's Hospital to visit my niece who was flown from Tasmania to Melbourne for spinal surgery ten days ago. Then all of yesterday and today we've been at the Austin, having our own medical adventure. Oh, and Mr Soup has gone away for the weekend (naturally) to a place about four hours drive away, and they all went in the one car so he can't get home. Hmmm. Not clever.

Anyway I've come home to feed the other children and fold eleventy loads of laundry (and um, blog. Priorities, people!) and now we're all going back for an hour or so to kiss him goodnight and leave him some clean undies for tomorrow.

Life. Never dull.

* turned out to be three days

47

2011-03-09T19:28:00.004+11:00

mother partner sister daughter cousin aunt sister-in-law worker-bee student knitter dyer seamstress beginner-cellist spinner blogger photographer writer thinker dancer reader gardener listener runner problem-solver colleague organiser penpal cook friend

Edited to add: soap-maker, quilter, besotted cat lady. Oh yeah, housecleaner extraordinaire. (Thank you for those contributions. I do like the way this post has become interactive).

pinch and a punch for the first of the month

2011-03-01T22:17:00.002+11:00

The cat now sports a pink, flowery and totally girly collar, complete with little tinkly bell. His masculinity is not the least bit compromised, I assure you. (That was done by a vet a year or so ago).

The cat and the dog spent their first whole day together today without human intervention while we were all at work and school. Together they managed to pull the almost-full box of cat food off the shelf (that would be the cat), thoroughly shred the cardboard in their mission to rip the box open (the cat, again) and eat three quarters of the contents (the dog, although I'm sure the cat ate at least a handful). The dog now smells like he has severe indigestion and the remaining cat food is safely in a tupperware container with a secure lid. The cat? Butter wouldn't melt etc.

The hall rug was also bunched up into a little bundle so someone gave it what for during the day.

I've knitted two more baby hats (babies and photos to come) and am now crocheting granny squares for this appeal. The cat is assisting. If any of you hookers out there want to make a few grannies please do!

More sad news. Christchurch, around the world, and in my own circle once again. Too many funerals.

Semester has begun and I've attended my first lecture of the year. Simultaneously exciting, stimulating and exhausting as I think of the juggle ahead. (Note to self, don't think, just do).

Similarly, at the university where I work (a different one, of course, just to make life ~~inconvenient~~ interesting) semester has begun and the staff car park is full of illegally parked students and the queues for coffee in the caf are ridiculously long, forcing us to make do with the sticky and slightly dusty jar of International Roast in the staff kitchen.

As I drove to work this morning the sky was low and steely, the wind it did bluster and as I thought to myself goodbye summer, we hardly knew you, a large classically shaped autumn leaf (plane tree? maple? liquidamber?) blew across my windscreen, right on cue.

In big-to-me news, I declared 2011 the Year of Getting Fit. I've been declaring this every year for about twelve years now but this time it's actually happening OMG. Before Christmas I downloaded the Couch to 5K program to my iPod and embarked on a nightly walking program, planning to start properly with the actual running part in the new year. I faced a setback when we returned from our holiday and I was still sick, but am in the swing of it now. No, I don't know me any more either. (Also, I may have shaken hands on something regarding a charity run in April. I work best to a deadline).

The unbloggable issues are not quite resolved but being managed in a positive temporary way and I surprised myself with the strength of my feelings on the matter. It's good to have one's convictions and beliefs challenged sometimes, and I have come out of this exercise with my passion more firmly embedded than ever. I [ironically] feel a blog post coming on - the beauty of Steiner education and its importance in the lives of my children. Or something.

Things I saw on my run tonight: a pretty sunset, a kangaroo, a giant cobweb stretched across the road, a blister. The husband is buying me a pair of decent running shoes for my birthday. (It looms). (I'd rather a macro lens for my camera, but hey ...)

I have typed the last three paragraphs with a cat on my lap, his head resting on my right arm. Behold the glory of my dedication to my blog and my soft spot for this cat.

Did I tell you our new cat is awesome? And that he's staying?

now we are seven

2011-02-28T22:48:00.000+11:00

Pardon the delay in announcing the winner of the knitting book giveaway, but I've been somewhat distracted by a wee brown satin-soft bundle of [evil] deliciousness.

This is Yuki, a two and a half year old chocolate Burmese, on trial here for a week. He came to us via the Burmese Cat Rescue Service and is rather bitey and "headshy" as they say. He had been dumped and probably not well treated prior to that either; certainly he hadn't learnt all the social skills a modern young housecat needs these days (ie. do not bite the hand that feeds you). However he's come on in leaps and bounds so far and it's only Day Three. He is biting less often and with less intensity (or maybe we're just getting used to having shredded wrists), seeks us out for cuddles and lap time, rubs around our legs continually and last night, to the mister's mild terror, decided our bed was the best place to sleep. (Mr Soup sleeps au naturel except in the depths of winter and did I mention the cat is a little bitey?)

He's very beautiful.

The dog is being brilliantly nonchalant about the whole thing, even when the cat perpetrates fly-by attacks on his ankles before skittering away, back legs hopping maniacally sideways in his glee. (Also did I mention the cat is a tiny little Burmese package, and the dog is an enormous greyhound?)

Anyway, I have turned into one of those women who talks incessantly about her cat so you may wish to head elsewhere until the novelty wears off. I believe some people blog about knitting somewhere out there? Quilting? Or culinary experiences? Me? I have a Burmese to bore you with now.

(Oh yes, we have a winner! The ~~virtual hat~~ Random Number Generator pulled Kate's name out of its nether regions and so Knitting at Home will be heading off to live on an organic farm as soon as I've photocopied that bird mobile pattern that is. Is that illegal? If so, then I'm not doing that at all. Oh no).

Did I mention my cat is rather beautiful?

yet another birthday cake in the oven

2011-02-20T17:39:00.001+11:00

Family doings:

The wedding went off very well although sadly every photo of me wearing the pipecleaner goggles somehow didn't work out. Funny about that. The bride looked beautiful, the groom handsome, and all the far-flung family gathered for the first time in about five years. It was a very very emotional day for many of us. Sadness in the midst of happiness oi vey. I tell you what though, dancing all night long at a wedding is the best form of exercise.

The eldest child turned 17 on St Valentine's Day and although I made a cake (with soccerball candles!) I had to rush out to a meeting (regarding the Unbloggable Ishews, which hopefully are on their way to being sorted out fingerscrossedohgodwehopeso) and when I returned I learned from the rest of the family that the cake had sunk in the middle and was almost inedible. Sigh. The candles were a hit though.

The youngest child turns 12 today! And to celebrate he is out playing a soccer match. Sigh. Meanwhile I am here sewing cushion covers for his classroom and baking another birthday cake which hopefully will not sink in the middle. Stupid recipe. We went out for a Devonshire Tea this afternoon to celebrate and he has requested Chinese food for dinner which means takeaway in this household. And more soccerball candles.

Don't forget there's still time to leave a comment on the giveaway post. I'll pull a winner out of the virtual hat at the end of next week.

sharing the love

2011-02-17T20:58:00.001+11:00

I told you my knitting mojo had finally returned. Recent completed objects include this deliciously soft alpaca beret (the pattern is Rose Red, available here), along with a simple pair of wristwarmers squeezed out of the last part-skein of Woollahra after finishing my Tea Leaves. They're not quite as long as I'd like, but I was running short on yarn.

Can you tell I'm ready for autumn?

I have to say, the arrival of knitting p0rn in the letterbox nudges the mojo along a bit, and these two little beauties did not disappoint.

This book, Knitting at Home, is possibly the most wide ranging knitting book on the planet. I was expecting it to be filled with patterns for rugs, cushions and tea cosies (and it is, oh it is) but it also features slippers, socks, jumpers and cardigans, and rather fabulously, a pair of knitted dolls complete with knitted wardrobes. Oh and my favourite, a knitted, felted and embroidered bird mobile. This knitting book could keep me you knitting for years without ever purchasing another pattern. (You can see inside the book here).

This book, on the other hand, is the opposite in its scope but no less inspiring. It features only mittens and gloves, from the simplest fingerless mitt (like my red ones up above) to the most elaborate intarsia or intricate cables. In addition to those gorgeous chunky bobbly mittens on the cover, it also contains the coveted Druid Mittens (sometimes also known as Green Autumn, for some reason) by Jared Flood of Brooklyn Tweed. I've been wanting to knit those for years, although I must say the charts are slightly daunting. There are also flip top gloves, elegant opera gloves and fabulous long lacy wristwarmers. (You can see inside the book here).

Anyway, I promised a giveaway I believe, and this is it. I will send either Knitting at Home, or Mittens and Gloves to one deserving knitter out there. I'll post anywhere, and you don't have to leap through hoops or be beholden to me for seven years to be the winner. And please don't offer me your firstborn; I have plenty of children myself. Just leave a comment telling me which book you'd like and I'll pick a winner. I promise to wipe the drool off the book before I post.

Go to it!

PS. the beret and wristwarmers are Ravelled if you need more details and funny pictures of me squinting into mirrors and pressing a shutter at the same time.

har har

2011-02-12T10:24:00.001+11:00

In the interests of balance I thought I'd best show you the youngest pirate too. This was for a fancy dress party last year - he wore one of my striped tee shirts with a soft toy parrot safetypinned to his shoulder. Do you like the clip-on gold earring we found?

After these shots were taken his father drew a big scar down one cheek.

Thanks for all your comments yesterday. The suggestions for wedding attire were of great help, particularly the brilliant one which recommended I wear pipecleaner goggles. I'll post photos I promise.

shut up, it's called rich imaginative play

2011-02-11T21:30:00.001+11:00

Another one from the archives. 1999?

They were being pirates. Note the telescope, the feathers cellotaped to their foreheads, and my personal favourite, the pipecleaner goggles, also cellotaped to his head. (We went through a lot of cellotape in those days). The top bunk was the pirate ship.

What's going on in your life right now? Mine is full of Unbloggable Ishews right now so I'm being a bit boring here on the blog. Now I'm craving cashews. Oy vey, the power of suggestion huh?

I'm going to a wedding tomorrow. More Unbloggable Ishews around that too! Moving on.

I went out in my lunch hour yesterday to try and find a dress to wear as my wardrobe is out of practice in the Wedding Attire department. Didn't find a dress but came home with a lovely black swing line jumper from Witchery (on sale yay) that will do nicely for work, and winter etc. Still have no idea what I'm going to wear to this wedding tomorrow. Maybe a black jumper? That's not good according to the etiquette ladies, is it?

I made some more soap, with cloves this time. It looks rather murky but it smells like I imagine Zanzibar would smell. It doesn't look appetising in photographs though so here's another random photo from the archives.

Lego rocket ships!

See that urchin on the left? He's now 15 and still has eyelashes and a dimple to die for. (He's also still our token extrovert, trapped in a family of introverts, poor child). Oh and poor Son #3, he just doesn't appear does he?

Speaking of the third child, he's going through a phase where he can't get to sleep at night because he's suddenly afraid of intruders and stray axe murderers, and keeps appearing in our bed at 11pm for snuggles. Poor lamb. It's a challenge being nearly twelve.

Also, please help. I had a minor accident over on Ravelry the other day and somehow bought 5 skeins of delicious Madeline Tosh merino worsted (single ply, yum!) from someone's destash and now I have to knit it into something worthy. Suggestions please. (It's about 200 yards per skein and the colour is 'Stovepipe', a deep lush layered blue-black-grey).

By the way, next post I'm having a giveaway, just like the real bloggers do. Stand by knitters, I think you'll like it.

lately

2011-02-02T13:52:00.000+11:00

last few days of the long summer holidays

children returning to school this week

sad news

making bread, soap, toasted muesli (granola), mess

sorting clothes, games, school books

a wonderful day out at sewjourn

trying to stay cool in a heatwave

high tea

2011-01-29T22:06:00.000+11:00

Finally, some knitting content. (You may cheer or leave now, depending on the level of your interest in knitting).

Looking back over my archives it seems as though I've knitted only socks and shawls for the past few years, but actually there were a couple of very successful short sleeved cropped cardigans (although somehow they don't quite seem to count as they're just rectangles). Anyway I am mightily pleased with what feels like my first garment in ages.

The pattern is the justly famous Tea Leaves which has now been knitted by over 1000 Ravellers. The pattern is elegant, beautifully written, results in a gorgeous garment and was a gift to me from the lovely Tania when I said at craft camp last year that it was high up on my Things to Knit list. She challenged me to a knit-along faster than you can say swatch, and generously procured me a bona fide purchased pattern a few days later.

I bemoaned some weeks later that I had too many wips languishing on the needles already, but of course succumbed and cast on a couple of nights before Christmas, and it became my three-day-car-journey knitting project. I cast off while we were on our island holiday, returned to my parents' house and rummaged unsuccessfully through Mum's button box for something suitable, finally packing it away reluctantly to be blocked and be-buttoned back home in Melbourne.

So now it's done. And of course, being back in a Melbourne summer (as opposed to a Queensland summer which is still hot even when there's water water everywhere), I've had several opportunities to wear it already. And I love it.

The cardigan grew lengthwise with blocking (but not widthwise thankfully), resulting in the sleeves now being a smidge longer than I'd like, but for now I'm leaving it. If they drag annoyingly in my supper too often I'll rip out the cuffs and shorten them a tad.

Interestingly, this project has kicked off my knitting mojo which went missing in action for the last couple of months of 2010. Since then I've knitted a pair of wristwarmers from the remainder of the Tea Leaves yarn (during the car trip home), and a cabled beret in deliciously soft alpaca. I've also made good progress on a pair of socks in a denim sock yarn that has thus far tried to be an Aeolian shawl, a Damson shawl and a pair of patterned socks in turn. Each was successively ripped out and the yarn is now happily becoming a very simple ribbed sock. My Big Garter Wrap, which is acre upon acre of soothing garter stitch, is now officially two thirds finished, but there are no pictures yet because it's knitted in hand dyed chunky green wool which will be dyed either a more consistent deep dark forest green or charcoal upon completion.

Yep, I've got the bug again.

Vital statistics
Pattern :: Tea Leaves
Yarn :: Morris & Sons Woollahra 10ply/worsted
Colour :: Chilli
Needles :: 4mm and 4.5mm
Started :: 21 December 2010
Finished :: 10 January 2011

Full details, notes and photos have been ravelled.

The holiday.

2011-01-24T22:58:00.002+11:00

Our holiday was pretty much overshadowed by the weather and later the heartbreaking floods, but we managed to pack in a fair amount of activity in addition to rather a lot of lazing on various couches.

Normally we fly to Queensland but we drove this time in an attempt to ~~save money~~ see some sights en route, chief among them Dubbo Western Plains Zoo on the way there and The Dish on the way home. It's a long drive from Melbourne to Brisbane; about the length of one Harry Potter audiobook (Order of the Phoenix), or for the knitters out there, one cardigan's worth.

I can highly recommend Dubbo Zoo. It differs from most zoos in that you hire a bike or golf buggy type thing, or drive your own vehicle around the specified route, stopping as often as you like to get up close and personal with the animals, many of whom are out and about in the open and separated from the visitors only by moats or deep crevasses (tigers and cheetahs excepted. They were behind wire).

There were about six different species of rhino but this splendid armoured cartoon character was my favourite.

These reindeer (?) were reaaallly close. I was fascinated by their furry antlers - they remind me of nightmarishly ginormous spider legs. Creepy but faaabulous. I kind of want to stroke them and I kind of don't.

The photographic record now jumps to northern New South Wales (I knitted furiously between Dubbo and the Tweed Valley and the camera didn't make it out of the bag). Here we have the world's tiniest frog. That's an 11 year old's little fingernail for scale. Isn't it unbelievable?

(That picture is for Jo, if she still reads here. Home!).

We had the annual mowing of the grass ...

Followed by the feeding of carrots to my uncle's next door neighbour.

And another horse. My uncle's latest magnificent woodwork. (He's hanging out for grandchildren).

From that point onward it rained a good deal of the time. We headed up to Brisbane where we caught up with more relatives and made our regular pilgrimage to GoMA, two days before it flooded and was closed, like much of Brisbane.

I'm not sure what they were watching up above, but the Lego city interactive installation was a big hit.

After a week with my parents we escaped to a nearby island for four days. More rain. More knitting. More reading.

can you see the torrential rain?

Poor Mr Soup had no knitting so he had to swim in the pouring rain,

and gaze wistfully at the wild, raging, man-eating surf.

The wind howled. I knitted on. I was also rather ill by this stage and continued to be unwell for two and a half weeks despite two courses of antibiotics but sickness makes for tedious blogging so there will be no detailed descriptions of my symptoms. (You're welcome).

The sun came out for one hour on the third day and the children had an archery lesson. Raging success. Sport and weaponry combined!

After our island idyll *cough* we returned to my parents ostensibly for one day's stay, which due to the floods closing all routes south, turned into several. In the end we were finally able to access the New England Highway, which meant no Dish, and three full days of driving instead of two, but we gratefully arrived home dry and intact (with not only a completed cardigan but a pair of wrist warmers as well), heartily sick of Stephen Fry's dulcet tones, and in shock at the severity of the floods both in Queensland and now in Victoria.

Going home the pretty way did mean that the children got to play soccer on the hallowed ground of the Bradman Oval (my god, ten points to anyone normal [ie. non cricket tragics] who makes it through the copy on that link) ...

(yes there's probably a law against it)

and a motel room with cable tv so they could watch the soccer game that they were missing out on attending in person (we were three days late by now).

The menfolk watched the match while I lived it up on the motel's ~~stoneage internet~~ "Free Wifi!" And coughed. Oh sorry.

My personal highlight of the journey home? An introduction to the world's largest concrete sheep.

It's a ram. Just take my word for it and be thankful I'm showing you the bow not the stern.

eleven years ago

2011-01-22T21:57:00.001+11:00

I was going through some old photos tonight. I miss those days.

Not that these days aren't fun too in their own way.

Home.

2011-01-21T08:03:00.000+11:00

Home, finally.

Our departure was delayed by a number of days and even then we had to go home the pretty way, so when we got back it was straight back into work for the grown ups, hanging around the house for the chillun, taking down the Christmas decorations, and celebrating the middle child's 15th (!) birthday. Oh and laundry. Laundry, laundry.

More later, including lots of photos of our holiday, but in the interim I'll leave you with this.

Persian Onagers at Dubbo Zoo. They came over to the fence as a group to investigate us, sniffed, then turned in unison to leave and flashed their tatts at us.

mother nature

2011-01-12T17:30:00.001+11:00

Like everyone, we've been glued to the television for the last couple of days, watching the horrendous news of the floods unfold and keeping up to date with the latest water level estimates and evacuation orders. (We are safe where we are, just wet).

All the roads southbound are closed so, as much as we are keen to be heading home, we will be here for a few more days yet.

So much death and destruction. It's heartbreaking.

If you would like to help, you can donate to the Premiers Relief fund here.

the summer, she is here

2011-01-03T19:28:00.000+11:00

We are in the hot steamy end of the country for a couple of weeks (but don't burgle our house, we left vicious and mean housesitters there, nyah).

We had many adventures getting here! Hot springs! Wild animals! Floods! I knitted almost an entire cardigan on the trip.

We arrived and I promptly made pavlova (pictured) twice. (So very proud).

We are staying with my parents. There is ample opportunity to practise one's deep breathing.

We have visited several fine beaches and experienced quite a lot of Weather at one of them.

Today we took the children to Wet n Wild and now I am having a strong drink. Hence the clipped sentences.

Happy nine ladies dancing day.

merry

2010-12-25T11:24:00.000+11:00

to all who visit here

x

and from last Sunday

2010-12-23T17:15:00.000+11:00

The fourth light of Advent
it is the light of man
the light of love, the light of thought
to give and understand.

solstice weather

2010-12-22T15:37:00.000+11:00

Sun, rain, storms, rainbows. It's all go around here lately.

The children have finished school for the year and are spending their days bouncing on the trampoline, playing soccer, indulging in endless vicious games of Monopoly and watching movies (the new Narnia film at the movies, and dvds here at home).

Son #3 recently displayed a fleeting enthusiasm for cooking and together we spent a day making gingerbread, apple sponge and something else but my brain is fried from Christmas shopping and I can no longer recall what.

The Christmas shopping is complete as of this morning. I thought I was already finished (the kids really only get one or two presents each) but the eldest cheekily reminded me (out of #3's earshot) about the stockings. My god the stockings, they will be the death of me. Gone are the days when I could fill them with chalk, playdough and new coloured pencils.

In other news, I made rice paper rolls for dinner the other day and am still feeling the glow. Another one to add to my rather limited repertoire.

Happy summer [or winter, for you northern types] solstice to you!

from last week

2010-12-20T22:33:00.002+11:00

The third light of Advent
it is the light of beasts.
The light of hope that we may see
in greatest and in least.

2011 calendar

2010-12-13T22:50:00.000+11:00

Everyone needs a calendar for the dunny door, right? I made this last night and ordered a shipload to give to the rellies for Christmas.

If you haven't got a 2011 calendar for yourself yet or are in need of another couple of Christmas presents, you might try here. That link will take you to my calendar, but there are others too if mine doesn't float your boat.

season's greetings

2010-12-12T18:32:00.000+11:00

so, that drought that lasted 11 years?

2010-12-08T21:22:00.000+11:00

It broke.

Now we have floods. And bedraggled birds.

Other things:

School finished for the year today for the elder two children and the long summer holidays stretch deliciously in front of them. Son #3 still has ten schooldays left, much to his disgust. His brothers are rubbing it in, of course. Lots of exaggerated sighs of relief and talk of massive sleep-ins.

The Mighty Cellos are playing with the primary school kids tomorrow night at their end-of-year music concert. The Tarantella features heavily (rather fast for my beginner fingers but I'm keeping up), and the finale is a 'hoedown' which involves waving of bows, footstomping and spinning of cellos, which sends us all into fits of giggles. I'll be handing the camera to either Mr Soup or one of the older boys so stay tuned for some hilarious celli video action here on the blog (once I've seen the footage and vetted it, that is).

We watched The Dish the other night in preparation for The Great Roadtrip North that's looming. I'd forgotten just what a delightful film it is. (Of course now the boys want to play cricket on the dish). Love the part where the teenage band play the Hawaii Five-O theme music when the American ambassador arrives. And Janine who keeps turning up with baskets of sandwiches for the scientists.

Today was my usual Wednesday "off", which means (now that Uni has finished up for the year) that I run around frantically doing the grocery shopping, laundry and myriad household chores. I also made a brief excursion to the Apple shop and, carefully averting my eyes from the shiny iPhones everywhere (sigh, the trials of being on a budget), I purchased an essential but boring new printer (why are appliances built to be disposable these days; makes me cross) from a delightful young man who didn't speak in tongues or make me feel like a complete technophobe. Thoroughly retailed out, I returned home for a cup of tea and proceeded to make two more batches of soap, which are currently tucked up under blankets in the laundry, quietly doing their magic.

Oh it's raining again. What a surprise. There's a bucket in the middle of the lounge room floor, catching drips, and the music is getting turned up louder and louder to be heard over the roar on the tin roof. Time to give up and go to bed with my book. (Skippy Dies, by Paul Murray. Very good! I've also just finished Stones from the River by Ursula Hegi, and The Facts of Life by Graham Joyce, both equally recommended if you're looking for a good read).

celebrating Advent

2010-12-06T15:21:00.000+11:00

The second light of Advent
it is the light of plants.
Plants reach up to the sun
and in the breezes, dance.

Second Sunday in Advent, 2010. Getting there slowly.

tis the season. again.

2010-12-04T08:15:00.001+11:00

As Christmas looms ever closer and I struggle with the overwhelming number of 'end of year' functions and 'final for 2010' events flooding the calendar, not to mention the unbought presents and continued absence of festive decorations in my house, my mind continually turns to the serenity of Bali. The unhurried pace of life and default position of harmony and goodwill to others contrast so sharply with the push and shove and snarl at others attitude found in the Western world. I'm a bit weary.

Every year I say Christmas takes me by surprise, but I do usually manage to pull it together. This year however the house is a shambles, family time has been severely curtailed with extra curricular activities and various children away on camp, and Advent only cursorily acknowledged. Also, just when did Christmas become women's work, or has it always been and I've not consciously noticed it until now?

I hope to find some time this weekend amongst all the errands and chores to clear a space somewhere for the whole family to participate in setting out the Advent candles and Christmas tree, string up some fairy lights, and rummage through the box of decorations. Then maybe, just maybe, the Advent Fairy will show up with the stable. (She's awfully late this year, that slackarse fairy).

Next week I'll think about cards, making a 2011 calendar, and Christmas presents. One step at a time.

Delegation.

Mindfulness.

Breathe.

new look

2010-12-02T21:41:00.000+11:00

Pardon my fiddling, I'm experimenting with the look of the blog.

Talk amongst yourselves.

scenes from a week

2010-11-29T16:27:00.001+11:00

sunrise with trampoline

the callistemons are flowering

cumquat marmalade

pretty weeds

big blurry cousin hug

plectranthus, with a carpet of callistemon petals

wols

2010-11-25T21:06:00.003+11:00

I was going to say We have Wols! but actually, Tawny Frogmouths are nightjars, not owls.

Whatever they be, they be rather special, and we have four of them in our garden at the moment. (No, I don't know why I'm talking like ~~Cap'n Birdseye~~ ~~Hagrid~~ a pirate either. I'll stop now).

I went out to the clothesline a few days ago and heard that distinctive vroom vroom noise. I put down my laundry basket and looked around, not really expecting to see one as they're notoriously difficult to spot, spending their days sitting stock still, pretending to be a bit of branch. But I saw one, then spied another in the next tree, and then a third - a juvenile - in the branch above. I talked to them for a minute or two and then reached up to pull a bedsheet off the line and jumped back in fright as there was this little baby sitting on the fence a foot or so behind where the sheet had been hanging, gazing solemnly at me.

He gave me a quizzical look as if to say, I'm a poor wee babe who mistook a fence for a branch and hey now you're here ...

... give me something to eat?

I called the children and, Son #2, who you may remember is something of a junior Dr Doolittle, obliged. (Do follow that link for some lovely shots of a koala, taken by Son #2 at extremely close range).

It looks like a muppet in this shot, don't you think?

We raided the worm farm and that wee bird gulped down at least half a dozen worms.

After a few minutes one of the adult birds vroomed again so we popped the little fella back on the fence to guard the laundry again.

(I excitedly told a friend who rushed over the next day to commune with the frogmouths herself, but of course the two babies went awol [ha, pun not intended] and the adults stayed up high for the duration of her cup of tea. The minute she left the babies reappeared. Of course).

Moving on but still speaking of wols, remember these?

The very talented and generous Sue sent me one of her owls, and either by clever design or marvellous serendipity, sent me the very one that happened to be my favourite. Thank you so much Sue.

Also speaking of more wols, there's a fabulous new shop in town, owned and run by a lovely friend of mine. If you are fond of all things owlish, do drop in and have a look at The Seventh Owl. Among lots of exquisite things, you might find some very beautiful pinnies and bags made from vintage kimonos, stitched by another clever friend.

***********************************************

In non-owl related news, I updated the soap post to answer some questions that were raised in the comments, and more importantly to update the safety information. Please have another look at it if you are planning on making your own soap.

In further unrelated news, last weekend Son #1 went to the Year 10 formal (like a prom, for the Americans in the audience) wearing a $15 suit from the op shop, an op shop shirt, his father's tie and shoes. He looked very handsome yet slightly uncomfortable and he has forbidden me to mention milestones and time flying etc or upload a photo here or on Flickr. (He didn't mention Facebook, ha).

And Son #3 made a mighty fine Menelaus in The Tale of Troy last night, in his papier mache Spartan helmet and little calico tunic. Thankfully the fight scene between he and Paris was spectacular yet uneventful, unlike a rehearsal during which he gave Paris a black eye and she (yes, Paris is played by a girl in an impressive display of disregard for gender-dictated casting) took a chunk out of his nose. I forgot to take my camera to the class play so will be relying on other parents' uploads to Facebook, or we'll have to dress him up again and re-enact the crucial scenes in the backyard. That'll freak out the tawny frogmouths.

Easy homemade soap

2010-11-14T18:31:00.007+11:00

So, you want to know how to make your own soap?

Okey dokey here goes. If anything in this tutorial is unclear please let me know and I'll do my best to clarify. (Cos you know I'm such an expert now *cough*).

Please ignore stray dirt and hair. You can't get decent stylists these days.

You will need:
long rubber gloves
goggles
long sleeved shirt
apron
closed shoes

a 1 litre plastic/glass jar or jug
large tupperware/decor shallow container
large saucepan
measuring cup
scales
thermometer (optional)

CAUTION! Lye (caustic soda) is highly dangerous and can cause nasty injuries. Cover up, don't make soap with children or pets around, make sure your work area is well ventilated, with no distractions, and always add the caustic soda to cold water NOT the other way around. Keep your soapmaking tools just for soapmaking, don't use them for cooking any more.

Also, and big thanks to Jasche in the comments for this reminder, a very important item to mention for those new to soap making is to never use aluminum containers. The lye reacts dangerously. In fact the only containers/utensils that should be used for soap making is wood, glass, plastic (heat resistant), and stainless steel.

I know, it's daunting isn't it. But if you exercise caution and are sensible it's fine, really. Still interested? Allrighty.

Olive and Canola Oils Soap
Ingredients:
150g caustic soda
500g coconut oil (copha)
250g canola oil
250g olive oil
1.5 cups cold water
50g essential oil for fragrance (optional). Recommended oils are citrus, rosemary or lavender but you can experiment. Don't use food colouring as it's not stable, you can colour your soap with natural colours like tumeric etc if you wish (I haven't).

Method:

Pour 1.5 cups of cold water into the plastic or glass jar or jug. Measure your caustic soda into a separate container and slowly and carefully add it to the water, stirring continuously. Do not lean over or breathe the fumes, and don't touch the liquid (even with your rubber gloves on, and they should definitely be on by now). I use a pyrex jug and place it in the sink so any spills are contained. You could also do this step outside. The mixture will become very very hot. Place the jug into a sink of a few centimetres of cold water to cool to approx 40C.

Meanwhile, melt the coconut oil in a large saucepan on low heat. When melted, add the canola oil and olive oils. Mix well. Allow the oils to cool to approx 40C too.

When the two containers are the same temperature, slowly and carefully pour the caustic soda mixture into the saucepan of oils. Mix thoroughly until the mixture looks like thick custard. When drops leave a trace on the surface, your soap has reached 'trace' and is ready. Add fragrance at this stage if desired and stir for another 10 minutes. (Note: I use a stick blender to stir as hand stirring can take ages to reach trace. However, be careful not to splash as the soap is still caustic at this stage. Keep the mixer submerged and alternate 'pulse' action with hand stirring. DO NOT use a handmixer - too splashy! Purists say you should always hand stir).

Now carefully pour your soap mixture into a greased and lined (with baking paper or clingwrap) large shallow container, put the lid on and wrap the whole thing in towels or blankets to insulate it while it saponifies. Leave wrapped for 24 hours. Next day unmould and cut into slices. Arrange on a sheet of baking paper and leave somewhere for at least 6 weeks to cure, turning slices occasionally. (Once your soap saponifies it is no longer caustic so you can handle it while it's curing).

This is my favourite recipe so far, and the coconut oil gives a lovely lather. I haven't yet tried my Castile soap that I mentioned yesterday (it's still curing) but will report back when I do. Update: just used it. It doesn't lather as nicely as soaps with coconut oil, but I'm liking it anyway. The poppy seeds are lovely scrubby scratchy additive.

Notes: this recipe is calculated for the specified oils only. If you substitute oils or use different ratios, you will need to recalculate the amount of caustic soda by running your quantities through a lye calculator, like this one.

Most soap recipes use weight rather than volume measurements. Many are in imperial measurements, others are metric and some specify particular brands of fats or lye that are not available globally (most frustrating). There are heaps of recipes on the internet if you google. Here is the Castile recipe and another I'm hoping to try soonish.

Castile Soap
50 oz olive oil (I have a dual metric/imperial scale so was able to use this one)
7 oz lye
20 oz water
(and I threw in some poppy seeds)

Easy Beginners Soap (because it specifies cups rather than grams or ounces)
700ml water
270g caustic soda
4.5 cups olive oil
2 cups grapeseed oil
2 cups coconut oil

Some possible additives are oatmeal, honey, powdered milk, herbs, seeds and petals etc. The possibilities are endless really. Have fun and let me know if you try it.

Edited to answer some questions that were asked in the comments, so may be useful to other folk too:
All liquids are weighed except for the Easy Beginners Soap recipe which specifies cups of oil.

The ounces in the castile recipe are weighed ounces not fluid ounces.

I use a tupperware rectangular container, about 35cm x 25cm approx. Some smaller recipes don't fill the container as deeply, so I cut about 15 bars horizontally, while the larger quantity recipes (the olive oil one for example) filled the container almost to the brim and therefore I could cut the bars vertically (if that makes sense) and got about 2 dozen bars from one batch. You can also use one litre milk cartons or Pringles tubes as moulds.

Caustic soda is in the cleaning aisle of your supermarket or hardware shop. Mechanix is the brand I use.

No, the glass won't (shouldn't) crack. The liquid becomes hot but not boiling. I put my pyrex jug in the sink first, mix the lye solution and then drizzle cold water into the sink to cool the whole thing.

And finally, yes you should keep a stick blender exclusively for soapmaking. You really don't want traces of caustic soda in your next banana smoothie.

once upon a time in a far off land ...

2010-11-13T21:46:00.002+11:00

... there was this place called Sewjourn. If you've been reading here for a while you'll know how ace a weekend at Sewjourn is, and Cup Weekend (yep, another long weekend, hip hip) was no different.

We took the rain with us again, although thankfully it wasn't quite as apocalyptic as last time and after a bit the sun did grace us with its presence.

I took remarkably few photographs this time, which I think is testament to how much fun I was having just being in the moment. I did a spot of knitting, a wee bit of essay preparation, some cooking, a whole lot of eating, enough laughing to keep me going for some time to come, and some quilting.

On the first day my quilt looked like this ...

... and on the second day it looked like this.

There's Kate. Hi Kate!

On the last day it had a deep blue border around it, of which there is no photographic evidence.

Others were busy too. The Kates were industrious with their quilting and knitting and felting ...

... Sue made couch covers and a parliament of wols ...

Yuki knitted and sketched and made the most fantastic Japanese meal, Janet and Jenny sewed their hearts out, Kate pointed imperiously (that shot makes me laugh, although please excuse my bottom) and Felicity did amazing Miss Havershamish things with white linens and lace.

There were a few hiccups. Kate flew in from Adelaide for the weekend but her luggage went awol for a few worrying hours before the airline couriered it to her, Jenny remembered sewing gear and bed linen but forgot to bring her bag of clothes (thank heavens for the Lancefield op shop which supplied her with clothes and pyjamas for the weekend), and Janet's car broke down as she tried to return Kate to the airport at the end of the weekend, necessitating a quick shift of luggage into my car and a call to the RACV for Janet.

But on the whole of course it was delightful and wonderful and hilarious and well, you know. Awesome. There's nothing quite like hanging out with kindred spirits.

This was the last of our 2010 craft weekends and it's been an amazing and rewarding journey of nurturing friendships, developing the vibe of the tribe, finding the right path. Thanks to my co pilot Janet and to everyone who's come to one or more of our weekends this year. Here's to next year. And the ones after that. And to the ones when we're in our seventies. Oh yeah.

PS. Also, because you asked nicely, a soap tutorial is on its way.

next to godliness, apparently

2010-11-12T20:52:00.001+11:00

I made soap! Three times!

I'm ever so pleased with myself. Never again will I buy supermarket soap, with its dodgy ingredients and chemicals. The soaps pictured are from my second batch, which was a raging hooting spectacular success, unlike the first batch which was only moderately tolerable.

The most recent batch is still curing so I haven't had a chance to ~~gloat smugly over it~~ try it out yet, but it is a castile soap (ie. uses just olive oil, no other oils or fats) with some poppy seeds that I nonchalantly threw in for some scrubby action, as by now I was a Master Soapmaker.

Just a warning, if you're on my Christmas list you'll likely be getting homemade soap this year, maybe even with one or two of these if I get my act together in time.

While I'm updating you on my bathroom business, I should tell you I bought these recently and I love them.

They're environmentally friendly toothbrushes (because your old toothbrush goes to landfill and will not break down in your lifetime, or your children's lifetime. And if you replace your toothbrush every 3 months as recommended, that's a lot of toothbrushes cluttering up the rubbish tip), available from here, via Kate who first mentioned them here.

Next up I'm going to make Melissa's homemade deodorant and complete my transformation into the mudbrick house dwelling, alpaca spinning, dishcloth knitting, organically grown caftan wearing hippy I've been threatening my husband with for years.

Note to self: buy goat.

PS. In case you're wondering why there are only four toothbrushes shown when you all know I have a family of five, no, I haven't snapped and killed Son #2 (that P is him). Son #3 (the missing H) and his toothbrush were on camp when I took this photo. And yes, the toothbrushes are identical, so if you buy them, and YOU SHOULD BUY THEM, you'll need a waterproof pen. The B is the mister by the way. There, you now know all our names practically. Don't stalk us, 'k?

Ubud street scenes

2010-11-10T16:32:00.003+11:00

In Bali, everywhere you look there's a temple

2010-11-08T20:02:00.003+11:00

Some are big and grand

some are small, local ones

and some are tiny shrines to protect, say, the rice paddies.

Most feature statuary of some kind

and there's a festival of some sort every three minutes. While we were there the festival of metal took place and all the motorbikes and cars (which usually have a daily offering on their dashboards anyway) were highly decorated.

There are offerings everywhere - in front of every house, shop and building, all over the footpaths, tucked into alcoves, on ledges, you name it.

One can purchase flowers and petals at the market to make one's own offerings

or you can buy them already constructed.

The tall bamboo decorations placed outside temples and some houses, called penjors, are prepared for major festival days.

Clearly it's all too much for some.

more Bali photos

2010-11-06T20:36:00.005+11:00

I completely fell off the blogging train there, sorry. The last few weeks have been so crazy busy (the old refrain, I know) with work and an essay that is now DONE and IN thank goodness (free! free until March 2011!) and the youngest boy's school's Spring Fair and lemonade stalls to work on and cakes to bake and cello to practise because The Mighty Cellos made their debut at the Fair oh yes we did, and a Paul Weller concert to attend and soccer soccer soccer and braces for the middle boy and a wonderful wonderful craft retreat with, as Janet said, the funniest group of introverts I know, and oh god then the awful shocking death of our next door neighbour and hoo boy blogging just didn't even get a look in.

And I'm way behind with my flickr photos anyway, still uploading photos from Bali for heavens sakes which feels like a lifetime ago already. And now a funeral and a strings concert and a shipload of mangoes to deliver to friends (school fundraiser) and a whole lot of mangoes to eat and turn into chutney and eat and a friend's shop opening celebration and the bigger boys' school's Spring Fair next weekend so more cakes to bake and chutney to make and I'm on the Coconut Shy 10.30 to 12.30 come and say hi.

Holy shit I'm so tired. And sad. And busy. And shocked.

These photos are from one of the most beautiful places in Bali. It's Lake Bratan which is north west of Ubud, and there's a magnificent temple there (of course).

In the midst of all the busyness and sadness today was lovely. In the morning we visited faraway friends who have a brand new baby girl so I had a delicious dose of Eau de Newborn and this afternoon we spent a couple of hours with the next door neighbours (those on the other side of us) so we could all be shocked together and talk about life, death and the whole shebang and how really we should all be knocking on the doors of everyone in the street weekly and checking in on each other because you just never know do you.

I'm not very coherent at the moment. I keep thinking of teenagers finishing their growing up without their mum. Sheesh.

I'm off to eat yet another mango and hug my kids tight. When they get home from yet another blooming soccer match, that is.

greenery

2010-10-26T20:25:00.002+11:00

Bali : whole other world

2010-10-24T09:33:00.005+11:00

So, moving on from a series of rather orange photos, we come to some green. Quite a lot of green actually. Bali, or rather Ubud which is where we spent the majority of our brief six days, is so hot and wet that everything is impossibly green. Plants grow out of drains, on top of every roof, peer from gutters, and moss creeps over everything in sight.

I am still sorting and uploading several hundred photos, and anyway I can't say everything I want to say in one blog post so I think I'll take a leaf out of someone else's book and just hurl a few photographs at the blog every now and then and talk at random.

My friend (L) and I left our partners and children behind and nipped over to Bali for a few days. Ostensibly it was to attend the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival, but although we're avid readers, spend a fair chunk of our working days writing stuff and started a bookgroup together (now in its fifth year), we're not serious literary groupies by any means. We booked one of the 'special events' (dinner with Booker prize winners Thomas Keneally and Anne Enright), purchased a one day pass to the Festival (Saturday, as it seemed to have most of the events we were interested in), and spent the rest of our days exploring and generally travelling about.

The Writers Festival was excellent. Some of the organisation was a bit vague, some sessions were inevitably more interesting than others, and there were some squirmy moments in confronting the reality of participating in a Western bourgeois intellectual talkfest in the midst of a much more economically (although not spiritually and culturally) poor country. At one point when up on the dais a heated debate was taking place about the reading habits of white middle class Western women and authors' assumptions about them (ouch) and all around us beautiful young Balinese women were smiling serenely and serving drinks to the sweating white folk, I turned to L and muttered God, it feels like a big white wank, what are we doing here?

But on the whole, the sessions were lively and thoughtful, we were introduced to some authors we might never have otherwise come across, and we met some fabulous and interesting people. We will definitely go again, next time for a few days with our families and then we'll happily wave them off at the airport and stay on for a few more days of writers festival, yoga and massage. Oh yeees, the massage.

Off the top of my head, some of the writers there whose work I'd like to follow up (or already enjoy) were the aforementioned two former Booker prize winners, plus Christos Tsiolkas, Louis de Bernieres, Cate Kennedy (low key, down to earth, refreshing), Suad Amiry (must read her three books - she was a hilarious and thought-provoking speaker), Ali Eteraz (note to self, get Children of the Dust pronto), William Darymple (great speaker, must try his books again, my husband is a huge fan, me not so much), Kate Adie (well practised and polished storyteller). Also off the top of my head, Shane Maloney, Sarah Murray, Kirsty Murray, Sophie Cunningham, Frank Moorhouse (looked bored, holds strong views about privileging art over community apparently). Many of the moderators were well known Australian names - Jennifer Byrne (smiles and nods a lot but sure knows how to go with the flow in an interview and not stick strictly to the script), Caroline Baum, and Antony Loewenstein who did a marvellously low key but push-the-tricky-questions interview with Christos Tsiolkas.

All up the festival had an eclectic selection of writers. Some big names to draw the crowds, a large Australian contingent (due to its proximity to Australia and sponsors including Australian companies and governmental support), and a good smattering of British, Indonesian, American, Israeli, Palestinian, Pakistani, other Asian and local Balinese writers and poets.

Uh oh, children and real life demanding attention. More later. Temples, rice paddies, moss, food, temples, tourism, privilege, heat, temples.

from the sublime to the sublime

2010-10-21T10:50:00.003+11:00

From outback Australia to the lush rainforests of Bali with barely a breath in between.

A friend and I escaped to Bali for the Ubud Writers Festival for a few days.

mtc
Suse

privileged

2010-10-17T19:54:00.005+11:00

I have many things to say about how privileged we felt to be able to experience the desert ablaze with wildflowers after the first wet winter in decades ... to be introduced to some aspects of the local aboriginal culture through our guide Mark ... to create some wonderful family memories.

But in the interests of brevity (I have the contents of the bathroom and laundry to rehouse after the cabinetmaker fiiiinally finished), I'll let the photographs speak for me and merely say that if you are a camping family and interested in travelling to the Outback, I can highly recommend Mutawintji National Park as a destination. It was the first national park in Australia to be handed back to its indigenous custodians, and it's a model to be proud of. All profits from the park are fed back into the park's management, entrance to some of the sacred sites is only with a registered guide (many of them aboriginal people from the area), and some especially important areas (the secret men's and women's business areas) are prohibited to tourists, as is right and proper.

Plus it's stunning. Look.

Our guide was fantastic. We went on one of the walks that you can only do with a guide, into the Historic Site. Due to it being school holidays it was quite a large group and Mark split the kids off from the adults and gave them special privileges (Secret Kids Business), taught them some commands in the local language and generally treated them like his own little posse. He recognised Son #2 from his school trip there in July and greeted him like an old friend, calling him Brother (everyone is Brother, Sister, Auntie or Uncle) and demanding to know which ones in the crowd were his parents and siblings. After giving us individual greetings, he then turned to the rest of the group and told them how every year "the kids from the Steiner school in Melbourne" come up to Mutawintji and how amazing they are and how wonderful their behaviour and attitudes are. (This was rather lovely for us to hear although possibly tedious for the rest of the crowd).

at the hand stencils site

Mark and the kids at the engravings site

rock art, thousands of years old. the blue triangle with WW in it, graffitied over the top of the indigenous art is by William Wright, manager of a local cattle station and part of the Burke and Wills expedition. because the graffiti is over 50 years old it's considered heritage and not allowed to be removed, much to the disgust of the indigenous owners

after a farewell hug from Mark, who promised to see Son #3 in three years time when he goes on the Year 8 camp, we returned to camp where the boys continued their never ending games of soccer and bocce with the paddymelons (relax, they're a weed)

next day, more walks in stunning locations

more rock art

tea towels drying at the campsite (the two on the right are from the Broken Hill op shop and are now the official Camping Tea Towels)

final shot of the red red sand before we headed home at the end of the week, through the sunset

It may have only been a week, but it was the experience of a lifetime.

some more desert for you

2010-10-05T20:45:00.004+11:00

more desert peas because you liked them so much

more bearded dragons

WE ARE IN THE DESERT OMG!

more sunset sculpture scenes areyouboredyet?

the vehicles from the 1979 film Mad Max, which was filmed out there (in Silverton)

on the road, a stumpy tail lizard with a deathwish. We saw lots of these, many of them flat

a church in Silverton. Silverton is now almost a ghost town but just scrapes a living from tourists and as a film set for (apart from Mad Max) tv commercials, films and American westerns

wide open road. if you squint you can see a lone road sign far ahead. this was so exciting I had to take a photo

just outside Silverton, this random horse (again with the deathwish) appeared out of nowhere and sauntered across the road in front of our car, which was more exciting than the road sign I tell you

EMUS! Just WANDERING ABOUT!

this sight brought such great excitement that I had to stop the car and get out. Look! A bend in the road, a road sign and three emus, all together! I was quite overcome

ack! our emu tally (41 by the end of the week) was significantly boosted by this once in a lifetime sighting of a male emu and his NINE chicks. I seriously haven't stopped talking about this to anyone who'll listen

just outside the entrance to our destination, the Mutawintji National Park, was a tree with stuff hanging from it. christmas baubles, a tv, a chair, a dvd player, a packet of mints

(closer look here)

into Mutawintji National Park

to find the perfect camping spot

close to the prime spot by the River Redgum but not so close that it drops it branches on us

Time to pitch the tent and get some sleep, for tomorrow we see some 80,000 year old rock art. Whoohoo!

wide brown land :: Broken Hill edition

2010-10-04T21:46:00.004+11:00

I took 598 photos last week. Please to enjoy the first instalment. (Feel free to tune in again in a month if photos of red desert dust doesn't do it for you. We spent a week camping in the Outback, stopping for a day in Broken Hill first).

At a rest stop on the way

beautiful old buildings abound in Broken Hill's town centre

Sunset over Broken Hill, from the Miners' Memorial

The Miners' Memorial

Pro Hart's rolls royce

Not Pro Hart's rolls royce

Bearded dragon

Biggest ant hole ever

Sturt's Desert Pea. I have approximately 352 photos of wildflowers. After a once in a lifetime wet winter this year, the desert is ablaze with wildflowers right now.

At the Sculpture Symposium

Sculpture Symposium again

And again. The Sculpture Symposium was a month long sculpture festival (in 1993) atop a hill outside the town where a dozen or so artists from around the world were invited to camp and make a sculpture each. The result is breathtaking and quite moving when you read the stories around them.

Many, many more pictures here, and more being added over the next few days. I haven't even started to upload the camping pictures yet.

place marker

2010-09-24T20:27:00.004+10:00

Spinning and helter skeltering is going on a-plenty here.

There's been the ripping out of the hideous old chipboard and yolk yellow laminate laundry to make way for the installation of a new clean configuration of cupboards, shelves and drawers, complete with shiny taps that actually turn on (and off).

There's been the hurried purchase of tiles yesterday for collection today and installation next week, followed by the unpacking of the bathroom ready for it to be likewise transformed into something new and clean. O, royal blue laminate and faux [peeling] gold taps begone. Begone, I say!

There's been the traditional and vehement Cursing of the Tradesman who was supposed to phone on Wednesday turn up on Thursday no Friday ok Monday well 8.00 am Tuesday definitely promisetrulyswearpinkypromisedinkydi finally showing up at 10.15 am Tuesday. And as I type he is now two hours and ten minutes late for tonight's appointment in which we planned to go over some final bathroom related details.*

There's been the inventory of the family camping gear, ready for the upcoming outdoor desert experience.

There's been a spot of theatre (Bell Shakespeare's production of Twelfth Night, highly recommended and now on its way to Queensland for any readers up there).

There's been frenzied cello practise, both at the group lesson and a get together of the four of us after our teacher announced we will be performing at the school's Spring Fair in a few weeks time (having had a grand total of 8 lessons all up and not feeling terribly confident, and all) (oh and by the way I am totally the dunce of The Mighty Cellos, as the others can all read music and thus have a head start while my brain is still trying to compute what the little black dots mean and how that relates to the placement of my fingers on the cello - and being the dunce of a group is a confronting and uncomfortable experience I am discovering, no matter how understanding and supportive my fellow cellists are).

And there's been the cramming in of all sorts of errands and chores into my days off while simultaneously trying to give the boys some entertainment seeing as it's school holidays here. This means taking the car to be serviced at a garage that handily has a cinema two doors away, sending them in to watch a movie while I grab a haircut and do the grocery shopping before collecting kids and car and racing off to the next errand.

I tell you, my brain is spinning. And we're not even going to The Show this year. Just read about it from two years ago and pretend, ok?

(Photo is the next installment in my version of The Alice Project, and of course as is now revealed, is located at the Showgrounds).

* Ok, he's now two and a half hours late. Stoopid tradesman.

weekend refreshment

2010-09-17T20:27:00.004+10:00

Craft weekend was, with the exception of the floods (and a couple of related nerve-wracking moments such as roads closing, the studio leaking, and all the lights going off) and the demise of the stork's bum, magnificent as usual. We had a delightful mix of old hands and newbies along for the ride, and the usual staples of laughter, relaxation, truly sublime food, massage, a bit o' craftin, and fabulous company were had. One of my favourite parts of craft weekends are the evenings spent knitting and nattering by the fire, fuelled by wine and home baked goodies; I think I knitted more this time than I ever have before and managed to come home with several new baby hats all ready for various imminent arrivals. Mission accomplished in the most enjoyable way possible.

I haven't yet photographed what I made - a pair of flannelette pj bottoms from a vintage floral sheet, the baby hats, a tiny stork hat (I did photograph that one and ravelled it - priorities, people), some cutting and piecing of blue squares for my next quilt, and the successful pinning of a [different] quilt sandwich so it's all ready for some nights of peaceful handquilting by the fire. (Big shout out to Kate for the provision of a packet of safety pins when I realised that Son #2 had emptied my sewing tin of all its safety pins for the punk party he was attending on the Saturday night).

The weather was quite a feature of this weekend; the wildest storms seen in a long time, with driving torrential rain for hours and hours on end, all through the night and all day long the next day. The road north of Lancefield was closed, the road south has some impressive new potholes, and one distressed damsel's car had to be pulled out of a bog late in the night by a knight in fluoro armour (the man in the little yellow RACV van) who showed up in the midst of the tempest to rescue her.

The sun came out on Sunday finally, the floodwaters receded slightly and we tried to cram a weekend's photo opportunities into a few hours.

I always come home from our craft weekends refreshed rather than depleted despite the late nights, filled with gratitude (and renewed affection) for my family who wave me off with love and support, and deep thankfulness to have found a place like Sewjourn (thank you Jan, for finding my blog all those years ago and suggesting we might like to try Sewjourn when the renovations were finished) and a wonderful community of women with which to share it.

Thanks to Janet, Caroline, Kate, Felicity, Magda, Gill, Tania and Kaye for a lovely lovely weekend of friendship, laughter and inspiration. Here's to many more.

(More photos here).

the ballad of the bottomless bird

2010-09-15T17:59:00.007+10:00

Legend has it that the Sewjourn Stork ...

was feeling a little chilly, what with being so far away from his tropical native lands* and the thought of a rural Victorian winter approaching.

And so, once upon a time in the autumn, someone kindly made him some bright and snazzy leggings.

But he was still a wee bit chilly.

And so another thoughtful soul made him a scarf.

Photo credit: Tinniegirl

The Stork was happy now, yes?

Um. Not quite. The Stork realised that part of his problem was a rumbly tummy. And lo, in the midst of the long hard winter he received the gift of a fish.

Photo credit: Jodie

But the Stork was not yet satisfied. The harsh winter winds of Lancefield troubled his delicate constitution and he demanded of the people a woolly hat. Preferably one that matched his scarf.

Aviator's helmet, with pin for scale

And definitely one appropriate for a now-grounded flying hero, long retired from the days of ~~migration~~ yore.

Clothed and fed, the Stork would be content now, thought the people.

And so, the people turned their ~~evil lust for yarnbombing~~ creativity focus elsewhere.

Note striking similarity of yarn and design feature stripes to that of the leggings ...)

But the Stork's discontent mixed now with Cactus Envy and as his rage grew ever stronger he called upon a Tempest to strike down upon the land. O, the winds howled, the rains lashed the land in horizontal needles of unbridled fury and the flood waters rose until the people wept and gnashed their teeth and it all made the front page of The Age.

And on the Sabbath the people awoke to find ...

... that the bottom had fallen out of the ~~world~~ stork.

(And the cactus bed really really needed weeding).

Sorry Jan.

* I have no idea really, just work with me ok?

Edited to add: the Aviator's Flying Helmet has been ravelled. Naturally.

wild life

2010-08-31T21:31:00.005+10:00

Encounters with wildlife have been plentiful lately.

Yesterday there were three Tawny Frogmouths sitting as still as statues in the tree above the trampoline, upon which two boys were going ballistic with a soccer ball.

I saw my first wombat around here! (I've seen them elsewhere, and in nature reserves before). I was driving Son #1 to soccer and it was noodling about by the side of the road - after we passed I saw it crossing the road behind us in a most leisurely fashion. I flashed my lights at an oncoming line of traffic and the guy in front waved and nodded. I watched in my rear vision mirror as he braked and held up the long line of traffic and Wombat Divine made it safely to the other side of the road.

Another day last week I pulled into our friend's driveway, reporting for carpool duty, and came to a stop beside a large kangaroo. It watched suspiciously as the little kids exited the car to get in the friend's car (for the ride to primary school) and the big kids all got in mine (for the ride to secondary school), then it casually loped off down the side of the house round toward the clothesline. If the other neighbours had looked out their bathroom window at that time they would have seen a big grey roo going past only a few centimetres away. (They're probably used to it, there are heaps of kangaroos around that particular group of houses).

That night, coming back from taking Son #2 to a party, I came *this* close to hitting a wallaby that leapt out from behind a tree and skidded across the road in front of me.

Son #2 has reported seeing the echidna again, who has been notably absent for a few months. I'm glad to hear he's alive and kicking. The mister said he saw one curled in a ball by the side of the road recently while walking the dog, but possibly the presence of a large greyhound was responsible for the just-pretend-I'm-a-spiky-soccerball act.

The mister also reports that a mob of about 20 kangaroos spend their days lazing about outside the loungeroom windows of the house he's working in at the moment. Rolling around on their backs and everything apparently.

The kookaburras are everywhere right now.

As are the usual Rosellas and Swift Parrots.

And my babies of course ...

Oh! And most exciting - a pair of Gang-gang Cockatoos have been hanging about. I heard that familiar creaky door sound the other day and looked up to see the silhouettes of two cockies flying overhead, but couldn't make them out. Then that afternoon I heard them creak again and there they were, sitting in a tree near the front door. I've heard them a few times since, but not been able to get a good photo.

Our resident Welcome Swallows have returned to their little mud nest above the laundry door (a mud nest on a mudbrick house).

They arrive every August and in a few weeks we will be hearing the pitterpatter of tiny baby Swallow feet ...

There is a rooster in the garden at the bottom of our hill, and I swear, I'm going to be making chicken curry if it doesn't stop crowing at all hours of the day and night.

The Dalmatian next door is still as mad as a cut snake but lovably goofy.

The rabbits continue to eat everything I plant in the garden.

The other morning we were awoken in the pre-dawn gloom by the unearthly shrieks of a rabbit being taken by a fox. And so the cycle of life continues.

As for mine own wild life, I am off to craft camp this weekend with a bunch of wild wonderful women. Can't wait.

chai mix for winter afternoons

2010-08-27T22:16:00.004+10:00

This winter has been the first proper winter we've had in years. Truly cold, with real rain day after day. At eleven years of age, the youngest child's entire life has been spanned by Victoria's ten year drought and he views the squelchy green grass of our [usually dry brown dustbowl] lawn as something of a novelty straight out of an Enid Blyton book.

The wood burner has been burning continuously for about two months now. We just shut down the vent before going to bed and in the morning open it up again and off it goes, sometimes all by itself and other times with the addition of a handful of kindling.

And I've been discovering the joys of making my own chai mix.

1 tin of condensed milk
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamon
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper

Blend all in a jar, shake well. Store in the fridge up to 2 weeks. To use, stir 2 tablespoons directly into a cup of strong hot black tea. Best enjoyed by the fire with some Miles Davis on the cd player.

Long time no blog.

2010-08-26T22:11:00.008+10:00

Here, let me make it up to you with this tiny bouquet of daphne.

I don't actually have anything of note to tell you, except for the goings on in my family.

These of late have featured:

a strings concert (Son #1 played violin beautifully in a string quartet);

a guitar concert (Son #1 played two [solo] pieces beautifully); and

two nights' worth of Twelfth Night pulled off by a bunch of exuberant and occasionally wildly talented fourteen year olds. Son #2, in a spectacular piece of typecasting (he is our token extrovert, inexplicably trapped in a family of introverts) played Sir Toby Belch, complete with a very impressive set of bushy muttonchops. His sword fight with Sebastian went on a trifle longer than expected due to the failure of Olivia to hear her cue, and the spectacle of two boys swinging swords at each other while simultaneously looking intently and meaningfully over their shoulders into the wings at the recalcitrant Olivia, was a sight to behold.

Son #3 hasn't done much I can tell you about except read voraciously, although hey what's new. Seriously, all our boys have gone through phases where you can barely prise a book out of their hands, but this child is unstoppable. He reads for hours and hours on end every single day. Currently he's re-reading the Harry Potter books for about the fourth time - he started last weekend and is on the fifth book already (which he picked up yesterday and is already halfway through, and you know how big the fifth book is). Edited to amend - I originally wrote Son #1 but it's the 11 year old who is the voracious reader at the moment.

What else? Oh yes, for those of you not of our shores, Australia had an election a week ago and we still have no idea, six days later, who will be running our country for the next three years. When it became clear a hung parliament was the outcome everyone was shocked and traumatised (and people such as myself were gobsmacked that Mr Rabbit actually got any votes because OMG how could anyone actually vote for someone who's blatantly sexist and racist not to mention a rabid twit ...) ... I wrote a huge ranty post about this a couple of days ago and deleted it, and do you know what? I'm feeling a whole lot calmer and more detached about things now; I am watching the two major parties' wooing of the independents with much amusement. It is passing extraordinary as the Tailor of Gloucester might say.

As for me, I'm kind of in limbo at the moment. I have spat the dummy with just about everything I'm knitting and haven't touched my needles in ages. I need to remedy this as Fathers Day approaches frighteningly fast, as do the arrival dates of several new babies over the next few months.

Bookwise, I have just read The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell and by golly you should too. Immediately. I haven't yet found a good replacement book so what with the lack of knitting and lack of reading and exhorbitant amounts of time watching my children on stage every evening and going to work and going to uni and driving children to soccer matches and parties and attempting to keep food in the house and a sore throat at bay, I've been busy but not actually achieving anything apart from half an hour's worth of weeding in the weak winter sunshine last Sunday.

And there endeth the blogpost.

wine o'clock rambles

2010-08-13T21:43:00.006+10:00

Camping boy did return safe and sound eventually. They were delayed due to rain in the desert and the bus getting bogged so they spent the night in a Scout hall in some tiny unknown but clearly hospitable small town en route, arriving home at lunch time on Sunday. (They were told not to turn up to school on Monday, but to spend it showering and sleeping. Ours obeyed).

My subject this semester is a European cinema studies subject (I've run out of history subjects that ~~don't bore me rigid~~ fit in with my work schedule). Lots of Jean Renoir and Jacques Tati. I am enjoying it immensely needless to say. Please remind me I said that when I'm trying to juggle essay writing with work and life and holidays (yes) and laundry/bathroom renovations (yesss).

In a rush of blood to the head I have somehow booked myself two holidays. Outback camping with the family in the spring for a week, followed by a brief three days at home to ~~download photos and catch up on my bloglines~~ undertake lots of laundry and ~~grovelling~~ cooking and then a friend and I are heading off to Bali for five days to go to the Ubud Writers Festival.

Did you see how I so very maturely refrained from inserting an embarrassment of exclamation marks or juvenile Squees!? I'm saying them in my head, don't worry.

Son #1 has just completed what might possibly be the coolest Work Experience ever: a week at Triple R. He has had a ball, made a 40 minute radio show with the other work experience boy, eaten a lot of astronaut icecream (yeah, I don't know why either), met all sorts of amazing people and learned how to navigate Metlink's Journey Planner. (He punched in the addresses and announced faintly that the trip would involve a bus, train, bus, bus and tram. I stepped in, punched in the same addresses and narrowed it down to a mere one bus, train, then tram. Sheesh).

My father and my middle child are both performing in productions of Twelfth Night soon; almost simultaneously but in opposite ends of the country. Dad is playing Malvolio and Son #2 is Sir Toby Belch. (Dad was Sir Andrew Aguecheek in a production a decade or so ago, while Son #1 was Sebastian two years ago. This play is a recurring leitmotif in my life (I had to write an essay on it a few years ago, and also many decades ago while in high school) and I was hoping for some Beatrice and Benedick action this time, or even some Titania and Puck, but no luck.

I see, clicking on the links in that previous para and getting all nostalgic like and in the interests of updating you all on essential life matters, that the cat was still alive then (well barely, what with the catching on fire bit), I still haven't finished the green vest or the granny blanket, that my boss and I have not been opshopping enough lately, and that two years on and at the tender age of sixteen, Sebastian and Viola are now Special Friends.

PS. BALI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Squeee!

Dad socks

2010-08-05T20:48:00.004+10:00

I bravely gave my dad a pair of handknitted socks for his birthday.

I'd been hesitant to in the past (not least because my mother has a tendency to adopt a bemused expression and say Why would you bother to knit socks? and really, I can't be bothered with that conversation any more) because they live in hot hot sunny hot Queensland. But this winter Dad had said that the evenings had been chilly so I thought I'd warm up his elderly English toes with some handmade goodness, and after all they live barely over the border into Queensland so I reasoned they're within spitting distance of wintry woolly country.

I wanted quick, thick and warm, and these fitted the bill perfectly. They're made from 8ply (DK weight) superwash so can be thrown in the washing machine, and each sock took only a couple of evenings' worth of knitting. Never mind that I actually knitted three socks because I didn't want to do the prescribed short row garter heels and tried to wing a heel flap before deciding to conquer the heel after all (because if I can conquer nupps I can do most [sing along with me] aaanny-thiiiing). Et voila, with the help of a YouTube tutorial, I successfully executed my very first short row garter heels. What did we do before this modern internetty thing, eh? (Answer: asked our grandmothers).

This is the actual true colour (Bendigo Woollen Mills 'Claret'). Those other shots were taken on a very dull day and my camera decided the socks were pink.

The pattern is the Quickie Socks, taken from the hilariously titled book The Joy of Sox which is filled with suggestive flirty photos and sock patterns titled Afternoon Delight, Morning Glory, Red Hot Lovers, Foreplay and so on. The joke goes on a little too long but some of the socks in there are magnificent. I'm looking forward to making the rather beautiful Make Up Socks soon (for me), once I learn how to do toe up construction. More assistance from Grandma Google needed.

(Dad's quickies are ravelled here).

a new habit

2010-08-02T21:42:00.004+10:00

Do you read Habit? I've been enjoying its beauty for about a year now, and when those in charge issued an open invitation to join in at the flickr group during the month of July, I happily signed up.

It's been a lovely semi-regular meditation; a chance to pause, notice and reflect, without the (self imposed) pressure of those Photo a Day projects to which I annually subject myself and then fail miserably.

I posted several images and words to the Habit flickr group throughout the month and was thrilled and honoured to have two of my photographs selected for the blog, including one on the very last day of the project.

I've started a Habit Flickr Set of my own, to which I will continue to add on an occasional basis. It's become a habit worth keeping.

red desert dreaming

2010-07-28T16:33:00.005+10:00

The fourteen year old has gone away camping in the Outback. I spent the weekend with him shopping for over a week's worth of food* that is light to carry and easy to prepare over a tiny camping stove, and doing as much pre-cooking as we could. He headed off at the ungodly hour of 5.00am with his sleeping mat and bag, hiking boots, a tarp (they sleep under the stars), several lots of pasta sauces, lots of powdered milk, and a rucksack full of homemade muesli bars.

His elder brother went on this same camp two years ago so I know he will come home exhausted, covered in a fine red sand, filled with awe over the indigenous Dreamtime stories, and about a foot taller.

I miss him.

* A week's worth, plus enough spare food for two days in case it rains and the desert roads close. Gulp.

one for the Jane Austen fans

2010-07-27T19:23:00.001+10:00