chopping a cardie

… as opposed to knitting a cardie :-)

the jum[er straight up the midle

It started with this jumper … I think I inherited it from an aunty … it’s lambswool with a bit of mohair.  Very soft and cosy.  But it was just a little claustrophobic as a jumper and it’s sat, unworn, in my woollens cupboard for the last three years.  So – time to go or change.  Change sounded like fun.

I measured to the middle of the front.  Chopped it straight up, cheerful as.  And not a single row began to unravel.  Knitting is so much more resilient than we often give it credit for!

band fabric sewing on the band

I found the perfect size piece of fabric – a 5 inch strip, full width.  Cut it in half lengthwise so I that I had 2 1/2 inch strips.  Ironed them in half lengthwise and stitched them onto the right side of the jumper, raw edges together, as I would a quilt binding.  I hand stitched this into place on the wrong side, taking care to keep the stitches as close to the binding’s edge on the front so as to help them hide.

adding the crochet

Then … a wee bit of crochet.  Oh, I couldn’t help it.  I’m just smitten with these sweet edgings.  I pondered a crocheted “brooch” on the upper left side.  Abby said yes! – but I think she says yes to most things just to amuse me.  Julian said no! – go for less is more, it looks lovely right now.  So I stopped.  Maybe I’ll make one that I can put on and take off.



I love how it’s turned out – looks kind of 1950s  - makes me think of a Miss Marple film.


It’s such a treat to wear now – so cosy! so soft! so easy!  I shall certainly be keeping my eyes out for another similar jumper – I’d really like one in red and one in grey.  Yes, that would be good.  Until then, pink is just fine.

And now, I’m off to bed with a new lighthouse book … The Light Between Oceans, by M. L. Stedman.  It’s set on a tiny, rocky island off the southern coast of Western Australia shortly after World War I.  The protagonists are a married couple who are the island’s lighthouse keepers.  It begins with their rescue of a baby who has washed ashore in a small dinghy.  It’s beautifully written, so descriptive … Ms. Stedman has a magical way with words … and terribly moving.  Oh life is so complicated isn’t it.  It also feeds into my lighthouse fascination so well – oooooh, I can just picture the howling winds and enormous waves.  But there’s still a way to go and plenty to yet unravel.  So I shall say goodnight … and hang this newly chopped pink cardie on my desk chair until tomorrow.

Good night!

a stripy skirt for a lamp


:: tidying the mess – part 2

thread first the stitches adding chain closeup crochet red andblue
Started today with an early morning clinical prac – how to draw blood.  And practiced successfully on a very clever mannikin.  Not only did she give me satisfying amounts of blood from her cephalic vein but she didn’t even wince.

Also learnt how to empty a stoma bag.  Not quite as exciting.  But reinforced a lesson I learnt last year on placement.  My very first day of clinical placement, when confronted with a lot of bodily fluids of the odorous variety, I wasn’t sure how on earth I would deal with it.  I felt equally overwhelmed and pathetic.  How could I be a nurse if my stomach churned at the thick and often lingering smell of urine and faeces, let alone close contact with it.  Well, it wasn’t long before a patient had a significant “accident” – she cried and cried, apologising over and over.  In an instant, the smells and ickiness of it all disappeared.  I felt only love and compassion for this woman and it just didn’t matter. This thought/feeling – that this patient or any other was worthy of my love, compassion and care – has seen me through a lot of ickiness.

Then today, as I emptied the fake contents of the stoma bag, one of my fellow students who works in a residential facility shared a story about one of her patients who recently had a colostomy – a distressing procedure for most folk.  I asked her how she felt emptying the bag and she said she just felt so much compassion for her patient and his situation that she didn’t even flinch.  It really is true – and I’ve even found it works for patients I don’t really know.  I learnt in first year psychology that statistically, mums have the highest tolerance level of any other group in the population for ickiness.  Perhaps being a mum and a nurse is an especially good combination for ickiness toleration.

Anyways – you didn’t drop by to hear about poo!  So we’ll move onto pretty things, huh?  Like the special kind of tidying I like the most.  Today’s tidy – the piano lamp.

making the pattern cutting out the pieces

See, I bought a lampshade at Ikea a while back – it was in the seconds section – $2, plain white.  I could instantly see pretty fabrics and colours so brought it home.  Now, I’ve covered several lampshades in my time, but I have to confess – they’ve all been straight sided.  Easy peasy.  This one – steep angles.  Hmmmm …

looking messy

So I wrapped it in brown paper, drew lines where they needed to go and trimmed it.  Then – because I wanted the stripey look, I measured lines onto my brown paper pattern and cut them out.  I measured every few centimetres and placed a dash – so as to preserve the curve.  Then I cut each piece out, adding seam allowance as I went.  I pinned the pieces onto the lampshade, realised the $2 lampshade had no structural bits inside with which to PUT it on a lampbase, so stuck it on top of a small plain white one …. and left it there … for several weeks.  The above photo is how it looked day one.  Each piece was reasonably in place.  By day umpteen, the bottom piece had fallen off and was hanging off the piano and all the rest had slipped.  Good look.

one lampshade skirt

Today, first things first – I sewed the tiers together.  Then, in a fit of crochet fever that I’ve been suffering from since making the felted eggs, I sat and crocheted a small trim onto the bottom of each of the top five tiers.  You know what?!  I’ve decided, this is what folks did before we had industrially made rickrack.  I’ve done no research on this, my theory is pure lily-ology.  But as I look at it – a crochet trim makes the perfect rickrack.  Made to fit the exact length of fabric you have – no dodgy attempts at finishing the ends required.  In whatever colour you desire (or have thread for :-) and you don’t have to fiddle and faddle with it whilst you’re sewing up the seam, hoping it is evenly placed all along.  Must admit – takes about 5 times as long to do.  But – a very pleasant way to spend a few hours for a very sweet result.  What do you think – about the theory that is?  And don’t you just wish it was big enough to wear!  I do :-)

with fu

glowing red and blue done

Perserverance … ignoring the rest of the family … saw it finished by dusk.  I haven’t yet solved the problem of no internal bits, so it’s still sitting atop the other smaller shade.  But that’s not too bad – maybe I’lll add something to the bottom of it – might make it less conspicuous.  Regardless – I’m very pleased with the finished shade.  It looks just as I’d hoped it would.  Kind of reminds me of those amazing lamps where they’ve stacked up odd pieces of china for the base.  Must be the odd bits of fabric with their bumpy crocheted trims – bit like pretty teacups stacked in the cupboard.

looking up in situ

And the piano corner looks nice and tidy now.  Phew!  Another tick off for the list.


tidying the mess – part 1

pin cushions and binding

Well … this afternoon, Julian, Abby and Sacha headed out to the airport.  I was left standing in the kitchen wondering what to do.  Research for next week’s essay or studying for tomorrow’s philosophy quiz were completely out of the question.  Vacuuming … could be very valuable given the amount of Fu fluff that is everywhere, but deadly boring.  Hmmmm …

I could sit and mope.  Bit dull.  And wouldn’t be useful.  No, not at all.  I could plonk onto the sofa, maybe knit, maybe watch some television.  This I almost did … but then I looked around at the terrible mess that has overrun the craft corner and table and decided some serious tidying was in order.

french general heidi grandads hat


in the shopping bag You know the kind of tidying when you SEW your way through the piles.  Yes :-)  My kind of tidying.  Terrifically practical.  Marvellously productive.  Immensely satisfying.  And so very, very necessary! So I started with this here bag.  Packed since our CHRISTMAS holiday to Merimbula and shoved under one piece of furniture after another since it’s return home.  Yes, there’s been some serious avoidance where this bag’s concerned.

not much to go

I even started with the most guilt inducing.  Abby’s Christmas present … her Moomin quilt.  Finished but for the final border across the bottom.  That should be easy enough to tackle in the time it takes for one to drive to the airport and back.  In fact, there was enough time to finish the quilt top, give the front room a vigorous, proper tidy, walk up to the shops for a few groceries, and cook supper.  Win!  Win!


looking up

with pegsOh I do love how this sweet quilt has turned out!  The only newly bought fabric is the red background with the little mushroom houses, foxes and dwarves.  The rest is from the stash.  The Moomin fabric and the gorgeous pieces of Marimekko were gifted to me several years ago by the loveliest woman in Finland.  Thank you so much dear Anne!  I knew the time would come when there would be the perfect project for them :-)  The other bits and pieces were collected here and there.


moomin mama moomin little my

In designing it, I started with the Moomin fabric.  I didn’t want just plain squares, but DID want something that would let all these dear little characters sing.  Thus the darker borders (Marimekko) with the clean and vivid red, pink and white floral corners, and finally, the crisp black and white spot that reflected the simple black and white drawings of Jansson’s Moomins.

The poison green represents the round and round and up and down of the Finnish forests in which the Moomins make their home.  The feed sack turquoise with the little children in their pyjamas with their pillows … remembering how, when Abby was little, she would hop into bed and I would pull over the armchair and read and read and read.  Filling her sleepy, dreamy head with Moomin adventures and magic.

The next border – the squares of red and the wonderful boughs with twinkling baubles (I think this is a William Morris fabric – not sure) will remind us that this Moomin quilt was made for Christmas.

little houses in the woods in the grass corner

Finishing the sides is a red and white Scandinavian fabric – a tilt to the Moomin’s cultural heritage.  And last but not least … the whimsical red fabric, the flower-filled, blue summer sky, and a bit more Marimekko.  They’re little houses, see!  In amongst the trees.  I was thinking of the little summer cottages the Scandinavian folk build in their forests and around their lakes.

You can read it in or out.  I like out to in.  We start in the summer cottages amongst the tall tall trees – slightly magical in itself – reading Tove Jansson’s wonderful tales and poring over the quirky pictures.  Then, at night, when we’re asleep, we’re able to wander through the valleys to Moominland and tag along on the many adventures these dear little folk have.

waiting for her

Yes I do love it!  I can even imagine myself, years from now, reading the Moomin books to Abby’s children who will be snuggled under this quilt.  For now … here it is on her bed, waiting to hopefully bring a smile to her face on what will be the first quiet night we’ve had in a long while.

To finish it, I have the perfect blue and white checked blanket to quilt this flimsy onto and I’ve promised the girl child it will happen before the weekend’s out.

p.s. oy!  when I pegged the quilt top onto the garden swing it was immediately obvious that I’ve put the left checked border on upside down – bugger!  That’s what you get for late night Christmas sewing.  I foresee a bit of unpicking.


at her feet


Abby and Sacha have been friends since they were wee little cuties in Mary Janes and striped school dresses.  From the moment they met, they were kindred spirits.   When we moved to Melbourne, Sacha came too to help Abby settle in.  And she’s been back again and again and again.  We call her our other daughter.

Sometimes, school and teenage busyness takes over and there may be a few weeks between skype sessions and endless texting.  But that never matters.  When the holidays roll around, Sacha is on that plane in a flash and they pick up where they left off.

They spent the first hours of Easter Sunday sprawled out in the front room, a huge pile of picture books between them, reading and sharing and giggling and going goosey all over (Tomie De Paola will do that to you … have you read Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs … oh my!  I’ve gone tingly all over and hot tears have welled up in my eyes just typing the title).  Listening to them was all the pleasure I needed for the day.

Then the scroll saw called from the shed … an environment that strikes me as terribly gloomy, especially on a cool grey day.  But they went prepared with chocolate, blankets, quilts and music …

behind the door

added cosiness


… Abby gave Sacha a crash course in how it all worked.  She picked it up quickly – she’d done woodwork at school in Year 8 – so cool!  And they set to designing and cutting out their toys … in their pyjamas.  Real friends don’t need to get dressed.



their toys

Then, armed with advice from the internet about using food colouring for their wood stains – why didn’t I think of this ?!?!?!? – they moved into the laundry where they spent a riotous few hours making watery colours and experimenting.  The results were sweet. Even lovelier – the way these two find so much joy in everything around them.  They are my own little Anne and Diana :-)

testing the food colouring

abby's graeme

sacha kitty

Our lovely week with Nan followed.  Sacha was delighted with everything we did and loved every place we visited.  And having her friend to share it with not only made Abby so happy, but gave her a new appreciation of the beautiful south coast.  Isn’t it funny how things become so much more magical when there’s someone to show it all too.  They swam and played and drew and read and explored and picnicked and watched films with us and ooohed and ahhhed over all the dear little animals.  Bliss!

The drive home from Canberra was an absolute riot.  We left so late – after 8pm – which meant the three hour drive was in the pitch black.  And when you’re driving across the Monaro and down Brown Mountain, it is PITCH BLACK.  But the two in the back kept us in stitches all the way, thanks to “Numbugga”.  Yes, that really is a small village on the South Coast.  Numbugga.  We now have Numbugga tribal chants (with dance steps) and Numbugga Buddhist meditations to add to the family song book.  And a new record for the number of times you can say Numbugga quickly.  Abby can make it to 27.  You try it.  It’s very tricksy :-)

Add to that the diminutive male petrol station attendant in Fyshwick who admired my braids, the two very large men that had crashed their little car into the cliff face on Brown Mountain and were standing forlornly beside it, the Bemboka publican, the copper from Bega, and the helicopter that we swear was circling us on the Princes Highway, and it was a night we will always remember with tears of laughter.  We felt as if we were in a Cohen brothers film.

Now we are only one sleep away from dropping Sacha back at the airport.  How does the last day come so quickly?  :: sigh ::  It’s a shame we can’t keep her!

cream bun sacha and the bun

at blue pool together

But I know that when she returns, they will simply pick up where they left off and wonderful times will be created all over again.

Oh they are such lucky ducks, these two girlies, and how I love them both!

p.s. Sacha wants her own “owl sweater” – ooooooh, how exciting!  I can’t wait to knit it again!

~ loveliness found ~ 14/52

if you would like to share your ~loveliness found~ moments from this week
… & I would so love it if you did …
please leave them in the comments or share a link to your place!

all that blue

cliffside picnics

~ picnicking at a magical spot
where rolling green hills meet the glittering blue sea
underneath a freshly painted sky ~


the kids

~ making roadside friends wherever we go,
whilst dreaming of how amazing it will be when we have our own ~


golden mornings

with podge

~ freshly picked, organic & so very local,
eaten every which way & especially lovely when softly cooked
until golden and served with our morning podge ~


purple flowers

yellow flower


~ finding my inner Ophelia
as I make the family stop yet again
so that I may sigh over the prettiness of these sweet weeds flowers ~

ceiling tiles


~ filled with awe, respect & sadness
as we stop to give thanks, in such a beautiful place,
to those who have given so much ~

new paths

rich colours

~ yet another new path that takes us to another new beach
filled with such wildness & beauty, it sweeps our breath away ~

jolly girls

running back to the car

~ a pair of girlies who, for four hours, cheerfully leap in & out of the car,
Flat Stanley in hand,
to pose him for a little boy and his kindergarten class
far, far away in Canada ~

busyness felted jumpers my busyness~ at home busyness …
on the porch, in early morning beds,
downstairs in the sewing room .. all three of us, cut from the same cloth ~

shy visitor

the locals

~ catching up with the locals … I really MUST
get stuck into that long list I put together at Christmas ~

beach play


sunscreen and blts

Ahhhh … you know where we are, don’t you.  Yes, Abby, Sacha and I have made the trek across the Gippsland and are spending a week with Mum in marvellous Merimbula.  Oh how I do love this sweet seaside village.  Only a few more years and our family will be moving up here.  Until then … we will journey back and forth, spend lovely hours at our favourite spots, and soak up all the sunshine, salt and beautiful vistas we can.  Day One … Bar Beach.  We began our afternoon of bliss on the deck of the wee beachside cafe and shared the loveliest lunch … toasted leg ham and cheese sandwiches with homemade tomato chutney.

Then it was down to the water’s edge where the girls swam, frolicked and squealed, whilst Mum and I stretched out in the sun, our feet buried in the soft warm sand, our needlework and knitting on our laps …

the girls



new knitting caddy


wringing wet

Then, as the clouds uhmmed and ahhhed about whether or not they should crash down upon us, the girls decided that to stay in the water any longer would be to risk frost bite.  There were sandcastles to be built and mermaids sculpted …

lowering sky


reinforcing their moat


Oh how I laughed when I met the mermaid … it is a sandy representation of our stoic prime minister, Julia.  Complete with this year’s new glasses, dangly earrings and pearls.  And subtitles in case any passers by didn’t recognise her …  and Oscar sweetie, look who’s cuddled up there with Ms. Julia … it’s your little travelling friend, Flat Stanley!  He had such a lovely time at the beach – and even had a swim with the girls :-)

julia look oscar


It’s such a funny thing … often I find myself lost in daydreams of our future life in the beautiful Bega Valley.  I think of the new hospital being built that I hope to work in.  I think of being close to Mum and being able to share so much more of her days.  I wonder what Abby will pursue once she finishes school.  I marvel at Julian’s big dreams.  And I think, come on, come on, faster, faster, faster, finish this semester, move closer to the end of yet another year in Melbourne.

Then, I realise that I am wishing away these very days I have been blessed with right now.  And I don’t want that.  Yes, they are busy, sometimes stressful, money is often painfully tight ( ah, the joy of new tyres, car maintenance and repairs, and an electricity bill that all arrive in the same week), and frankly, I am getting to the point of being OVER studying … I want to be a real grownup with a job!

Because I also want to savour every moment of Abby’s childhood, especially now as it’s moving into its last years.  I want to find and enjoy the loveliness of everyday.  I want to make the most of this wonderful opportunity to grow and learn and build my skills.

So …. here I sit, making the most of this lovely week away.  Chattering and giggling with Mum.  Delighting in the antics of the girls.  Filling my heart and eyes with the beauty around me.  And tucking the dreams of what will come, away in my heart, knowing that they will arrive sooner than I can imagine.

makes me think of tiny cliff caves shouting
red rock

a cosy easter table

from the window

husband and wife bunnies

the bunnies


chicks in eggs

easter tree

with curtain behind

blue pompom

above the lamp

close up bunnies

bunnies on plate

fancy rabbitegg marshmallow

fresh buns

glowing candles

Such a lovely Easter Sunday breakfast.  The sky was still leaden and dark with the occasional misty sprinkle of rain.  But in our kitchen, all was golden and warm and fragrant.

I just LOVE setting the Easter table.  I wake up early, turn on the lamps, make a pot of tea, heat the coffee machine, and set to work.  First, I spread out the 1940s yellow damask tablecloth.  On top, I add Nanny Dougall’s square linen cloth – it has dear little blue and pink flowers embroidered across it and a delicate crocheted lace edging.  I should add here – I NEVER iron the tableclothes :-)  I smooth them out and know that by the time the rest of the table is set, no one will notice a single crease!  I know, lazy huh!  Then I set out the Easter plates I painted years and years ago at a little “paint-your-own-china-shop” in Brisbane.  The Easter bowls and mugs are next.

Then comes the really fun bit ….   I arrange the wee china rabbits, colourful expresso cups with tea lights, prettily coloured beads, little paper thin, painted eggs that Aunty Anne gave me, a pair of sweet felt chicks in their eggs, and of course, the Easter Tree with its cloth pompoms.

I do so love these pompoms – I started making them a week before Easter on Mum’s back porch in Brisbane when we lived with her.  All week I made pompoms – in the car whilst waiting to collect Abby from school and cello, in bed at night before going to sleep, at the breakfast table with a cup of tea each morning, and eventually, on Good Friday with Carolann and Peter at Rainbow Bay.  It was a terribly dreary, wet day – not that the children noticed –  and Carolann and I sat on the sofa looking out at the magnificent Pacific Ocean whilst the children decorated paper dolls.    Each year when I take them out, I think of all these moments and the people that shared them with me and truly, it warms my heart.

This year, the Easter Tree itself is a different one.  The white painted mangrove branch that we brought home after it washed up on the beach at Wellington Point broke – completely snapped off from its plastered home in the galvanised bucket.  It sort of got left in the garden after that.  Hmmm …  So this year – thanks to some fierce north easterlies – I used a branch from our back garden oak.  And it was good.

A new addition this year – the felted eggs and a pair of wooden bunnies that Julian and I had a marvellous time making in the shed on Easter Saturday.  I drew them and cut them out of pine.  Julian dremelled their edges and added some engraved details.  I stained them and added the wee felt eggs in their baskets.  The only detail we didn’t get to was adding the felted carrots that were supposed to hang from their paws – next year.

Finally, bowls and mugs are filled with bunnies and chocolate eggs are scattered across the table.  Whilst all of this is happening, the hot cross bun dough is magically rising in the corner.  By the time the table is finished, the dough is ready to pull apart and shape into buns.  I let them rise 15 minutes longer, then whilst they bake in the oven, I sip my umpteenth cup of tea and the family begin to rise and sleepily wander out.

It’s my favourite part of our Easter weekend.


felted easter eggs

rooster legs

Friday morning dawned grey and quiet.  Just as it should be.  Family consensus … a day spent together, crafting, listening, watching, sharing.

Me?  I made Easter Eggs.  The non-edible variety.  Inspired by the terribly sweet, cheerfully coloured and decorated candy eggs that were popular when I was little.  The ones that broke your teeth.  And rotted your surviving teeth as you ate it.  Oh they were good :-)

finishing the sheep

I started with a mandala/Ukranian decorative design.  But then, spying “Petook: An Easter Story” which I’d taken down from the shelf to re-read, I decided the rest of my felt eggs would tell a more traditional tale.

I needle felted the trees of Calvary, a wee lamb of God, a radiant sunrise, and a Rooster … joyfully singing at the miracle that is the arrival of each new day, and the beauty and wonder of life that comes with it.


The last step of each egg … adding the crocheted trim (like the piped iced edges of the candy eggs) was by far the trickiest and most time consuming.  But all were finished and ready for the Easter table.

And in a week’s time, they will be carefully packed into the Easter box, awaiting their turn to shine again next year.  That’s one of the things I love about the handmade loveliness we create and keep for our special festivals.  Each year, we pull them out and there they are, filled up with the love and effort of previous years.  Reminding us of the richness and comfort of family life as it journeys with the sun, round and round and round.

all together

ukrainian style




rooster and chick

on the easter table

If Easter is a feast you keep, in whatever form, I hope it was filled with family, love and happiness :-)

~ loveliness found ~ 13/52

 if you would like to share your ~loveliness found~ moments from this week
… & I would so love it if you did …
please leave them in the comments or share a link to your place!

getting there

with patchwork

~ and still I stitch, one little red figure after another,
first band finished, second started, feeling rather impatient,
but oh, they look such jolly folk ~

making monkey bread

monkey bread

~ monkey bread … an easter treat
for the little girls …
they were amazed they had lived ten years without it ~


frozen dinner

~ after sleepless nights and endless writing,
I stole an hour between classes and babysitting for reading on the bed,
& made the most of those frozen dinners ~

calculator and christmas pudding

~ panicked hunting for the dinky calculator,
essential for the next day’s drugs calc exam,
led me to both calculator & a forgotten darrell lea christmas pudding!
perfect for soothing pre-exam nerves & a sure sign that I would pass ~

rediscovering favourite books

~ this is why I will never throw away a single picture book,
no matter how old we grow ~

the  back

~ sometimes the back is just as enchanting as the front, don’t you find ~

hot cross buns


~ four days of hot cross buns – oh yum ~

bread and other things

Still reading, still note taking, still writing, still practicing.  There may not be time for quilts and pottering and furniture and dolls … but there’s always time for bread.  And call me corny, but watching that dough rise never ceases to delight me.  Sprinkling the top of that soft, taut mass with flour then sinking my hand into it feels wonderful every time.

Today’s was extra sweet – on a garage cleanout on Saturday, I unpacked THE LAST kitchen box. Mmhm!  It was another Elasta-girl moment.  And there, at the bottom, was my Romertopf – something I’ve not seen for almost six years (yes, that’s how long the boxes were packed for – man, I can’t believe it was six years – at the risk of extra corniness, so much has happened since then!)  And a sugar shaker thing I don’t even remember owning.  Both almost found their way into a box for the thrift store – let’s face it, I managed without them for six years.  But then, I thought of my bread making … the Romertopf will be perfect for baking the bread in – a lovely moist environment.  The sugar shaker – why, perfect for sprinkling flour.

And they both lived up to their newly assigned roles with vim and vigour …


flour shaker




ready for baking


done yum hanging
So … no stitching.  I could tell you all about recurrent leg ulcers.  Or the psychosocial implications of emergency surgery for the elderly.  Maybe you’d like to hear about postoperative psychosis.  Or, sadly, how there’s very little evidence to support complementary pain relief therapies … but we’ll keep trying anyway.

annunciation(this beautiful image comes from here – doesn’t that look just how you’d feel if that glowing man with the alarming news appeared in your bedroom!)

Or maybe I’ll mention that today is the Annunciation … the day that the Archangel Gabriel came down from heaven to let Mary know she’d better start knitting that layette.  I’ve never thought about it like this, but I reckon that means today’s a good day to start preparing for Christmas.  I mean, if WE were having the baby we would, wouldn’t we!  We’d get out the needles and get stuck into it.  I love the Annuciation … thinking about it just draws our year round into a perfect circle full of life and love, anticipation and promise.

And today, the Passover begins.  As I walked Fu tonight, homes all around us were in darkness .. the usual Monday night routines abandoned.  Instead, every several houses or so, there was an explosion of light and bustling as families came together to celebrate the Seder and share the story of the Exodus from Egypt and slavery.  It looked so lovely as we walked along.  In one, there were at least 20 people squished around the table and they were SINGING!  Fu and I stood outside in the dark and soaked it up.

Bread, caring, the promise of a dear little babe, the joy of freedom.  What more could you want on a Monday.

~ loveliness found 12/52 ~


 ~ very simple, very sweet and oh so very soothing ~

new friends made

 ~ new friendships were cherished,
endings that arrived so quickly were lamented
& promises were made ~

cafe au lait

~ an early morning prac was rewarded
with a steamy, creamy bowl of coffee in the sun ~


~ knit, knit, knit, knit, knit … & so with tiny stitches
the jumper surely grows ~

warm bread and butter 

a little bit of essay a little bit of politics

~ the torture of essay writing was relieved
with cups of tea, warm bread & butter,
& frequent checkups on the state of the nation ~

fiddling with fabric

~ just one hour was granted to the cutting of a pattern & fabric
… just one hour, I promise ~

a new pumpkin girl

~ a little girlie wanted her own pumpkin doll …
& so I earned my money needle felting with a small girl at my side …
it’s a hard life ~

saturday morning breakfast

~ ahhhh … saturday morning breakfast … long and slow
… with the essential ingredients ~

asking for a play

~ she gathered her toys, bringing them to my desk one at a time,
hopeful I’d notice … I did,
surely one walk won’t an essay make late ~

favourite books~ a pile of favourites … rescued from the shed … so many waiting to be re-read
once this current rush of assessment has passed … but where to start
… bilgewater? my utmost, utmost favourite of all ~







piecing the babies

rotary cutter

watching the sunrise

four rectangles

Hmmm … dragged an hour out of my day today to play with my gumnut babies … look at these darling little squishy bottoms!  Oh I do love babies’ bottoms :-)

Am quite pleased with the layout I have come up with.

However … simply MUST iron the seams open … the folded seams on these blocks turned into such immense speed bumps my sewing machine had trouble driving over them.  To say nothing of the difficulty I had in lining up the points.

Perhaps there’ll be an hour tomorrow for more play.  Before or after I finish that essay on community based aged care in Australia?  Mmmmm …. I suppose it should be after.  I’ll just write super quick.

Yes … gumnut baby bottoms, coloured triangles, and open seams.  That sounds like just the ticket for a lovely hour, don’t you think?

What are you going to squish into your lovely hour tomorrow? :-)