The Path to Hell

LAZARUS

2009-03-17T00:24:00.002+09:00

My God, this poor little blog has been abandoned since last October! How disgraceful. I really MUST do better.
A very brief update - my youngest daughter, Tarynne, has been living with her dad since we split up almost 4 years ago. A lot could be said about that, perhaps another time. Anyways, she moved her boyfriend, Graeme in with her and all was fine and hunky dory until they both lost their jobs, just before the ex flew to S. Africa to marry for 3rd time. (After quickie divorce that I so nicely agreed to.)
Ex returns to Oz in February after long and lavish honeymoon in the Kruger National Park, wife in tow. It seems, going by reports passed on to me by my 3 kids, that the new wife has completely changed their father into someone completely unrecognisable to all and sundry - and not in a good way!
She is 20 years younger than he and was once a very large gal who lost a whole shebang of weight (good for her!) Immediately prior to the flight to Perth she had (she brags) $20,0000 of plastic surgery. I have no difficulty with anyone wanting to have cosmetic surgery, although I personally could not be fussed, but it is a bit difficult to swallow the ex's "poor me" story when that sort of money has been splashed around on lavish long honeymoons (including her 3 kids), getting new breasts, and a tummy tuck as well as financially supporting her adult non working daughter in S Africe plus her 2 teenaged sons recently expelled from school for dope smoking and bringing all of them plus mother-in-law out to Oz to live with them in a couple of months.
So, a few days after arriving, new wife convinces ex to boot the boyfriend out of the house and takes possession of Tarynne's bedroom. They come to me (living on an invalid pension) and beg for room and board while they look for their own place and new jobs. I agree, as I see how keen they are to sort themselves out. Not to go into too much detail, but for the last 3 weeks I have extended every help I could to the young couple, including financial assistance and they finally moved out today. Graeme has landed himself a great job in the mines paying about $2,200 per week - so they are planning to get married in about 18months and buy a house,and of course, pay me back. That's great news and they were as helpful as they could be around the house, I had no problem. I guess it's just the extra washing, cooking, tidying, etc that seems to be a drain on my thin reserves of energy. To complicate matters, my eldest daughter, Nat, is 11 weeks into her third pregnancy and almost bedridden with sickness this time, so I have been having her two little boys quite frequently. I worship and adore them, but they can take it out of y ou - especially when they love horsey rides around the house and will only accept me doing everything for them. (A rod I made for my own back, I know.)
Anyway, what prompted me to write this journal entry was the most hilarious experience I have had in a very long time. Helping daughter and boyfriend move out today, we hired a 3 tonne truck (I drove it and didn't kill anyone) and went to collect items like their bed from ex's house. Ex was having a "day off" (most uncharacteristic in my experience) and to fill in a bit of background on new wife, it seems that she is a) very fond of showing all and sundry the surgery handiwork on her new breasts, b) seems to have genetically inherited unfortunately humungous hips that cannot be dieted away, c) prefers not to wear underwear and makes sure that people become aware of this fact and d) is obsessed with sex in the way 14 year olds think they discovered it all by themselves.
So we rock up there (me, Tarynne and Graeme) and there they are lovingly displayed on the sofa, perusing the laptop computer at 12:15p.m. in their nightwear. He has his green silk boxers (that I bought him about 25 years ago) and she has an enormous, but short T shirt on. Tarynne introduced me and I was appropriately pleasant. 19 seconds later, ex decides to introduce me again to new wife. At least I can take small comfort in the fact that he is still deaf and/or prematurely senile. I asked ex if he was having day off work, he barked back that he was. Oh, I said innocently, what are you guys up to today, then. Well, he gruffs, we have got some things to do today. How enlightening!
But not nearly so enlightening as the first class view I was given up Allison's T shirt. I reckon I could see everything she had for breakfast 6 months ago. Not a pretty sight. She seemed fairly quiet and did not move off the sofa for the whole hour I was there. Apparently she's normally quite gregarious and loud mouthed. Perhaps intimidated? Anyway, thinking that I wasn't going to be stupid and childish about this situation, as we left I stepped right up to her, proffering my right hand. I smiled broadly and looked her straight in the eyes and said how lovely it was to meet her and no doubt I would catch up with her again. She was forced to lurch up from the sofa and I got a glimpse of the hips from hell. Poor girl, they really are totally disproportionate to the rest of her.
Of course, I completely resisted the urge to be at all bitchy during the whole experience. Although I do recall that every time I was walking in their view with my back to them, I lifted my top and hitched up my denim shorts that have an annoying habit of constantly slipping because my hips are very small. No, I think I was completely subtle and a lady at all times.

THANKS BUDDIES!

2008-10-12T18:41:00.004+08:00

Arlee and Mary Anne, have I told you guys that I love you! I laughed at your pictorial vibes, MA. How I broke the shoulder blade? Well, I have severe osteoporosis - the bones (apparently) of a woman of more than 95. Something I have been informed that I am remarkably young to have at all. Just my luck, why couldn't it be something else, like (hmmmmmmmm???? started a bad analogy there - there is NOTHING good about old age). Anyhoo, I can fracture things at the drop of a hat, and frequently do - just ask Arlee. This time, some idiot acned teenage boy working in a supermarket came hurtling out of one of the aisles, glancing behind himself (for what? The boogeyman?) and slammed into me. I didn't fall, but I could feel something go uh oh. Lucky for me I am a very quick healer and am starting to feel a bit better. The worst part is not seeing my boys for ages, cos they just want me to pick them up all the time (and I am a big sucker, I know) and climb all over me and I'm really not supposed to be doing that. I am, however, going to do it next week because I had a miserable weekend missing them and telling myself not to cry every two seconds. The worst part about being a permanently depressed person is that, no matter how good the meds are, you still have to battle with that monster every now and then.

I felt sad for my kids too and I just wanted to go and punch their father's lights out for hurting them. The old mama bear isn't too far from the surface, no matter how old the cubs.

So to log on and read you guys giving me moral support just made me cry, to be honest. I wanted to get on the next plane to Canada and come and hug you to bits, but of course I can't as I haven't got a passport at the moment - but it is an idea that's been stewing in my brain awhile, so you never know.

Just to end on with a pleasant scene for you both with the chill of winter stalking up your driveways, and to brag just a teensy bit, feast your eyes on my best spring show yet of my (appropriately named) Double Delight rose climber:

STRANGE NEWS

2008-10-08T19:14:00.002+08:00

Not only do I have a badly fractured shoulder blade (right) impeding my every breath with pain, but have just received an email from my ex to say that he is planning to marry at the end of the year (this will be his third wife). I couldn't give a rat's ass quite honestly, but he hasn't bothered to tell our children about his forthcoming wedding, although he has told them about her. Apparently she just wants to be "friends" with my Nat. Well, excuse me, but I'm afraid the position of mother was filled quite a long time ago, so don't even be letting that little idea in your tiny brain, love!

A FAIRY TALE (WITH A COUPLE OF MYTHS THROWN IN)

2008-09-30T19:12:00.002+08:00

Once upona time, there was a young girl who loved to sew. She purchased a brand new sewing machine with her first paycheck and things went along superbly for 30 odd years (some more odd than others). She rarely cleaned her machine, or had it serviced or oiled it or changed the needles, but Old Faithful kept plodding along taking the girl on many journeys through complex dresses made out of silk, fat bulky curtains, over blobs of painted surfaces, foil and did every single task she asked of it.
Then the girl grew up, married a bad tempered old toad, cunningly disguised as a charming Prince, had four babies and sewed and sewed on Old Faithful throughout. Sadly, the girl (woman now) had a nasty accident at her work, but she did receive some money for her injuries. So, she thought "I think I will buy a new sewing machine, a bit fancier than OF, but probably the same make as OF has been remarkably reliable for over 30 years."
The woman bought a fully computerised version of OF which automatically cut her threads, calculated her button holes, had thousands of embroidery patterns and a memory to record them, could work three different alphabets, needled up and down and basically could almost cook dinner, feed the dog and clean the house.
The woman loved the new machine - BUT within a month, something strange started to happen. Now and then, for no particular reason the machine would start to stammer and stutter and then - the bobbin case would lurch out of its position, frequently causing the needle to jam down into the case itself. This was very scary, especially when a message on the computer display screen would say Stop For Safety Purposes. So, the woman marched the machine straight back where she had purchased it (for over $1800!) and explained her problem. To cut a very long and ongoing saga to its nuts and bolts, the woman was made to feel that this had never ever been experienced by any other purchasers of that model (a lie, it was later discovered after a careful internet search), that the problem only occurred for her (maybe she was being too rough?) and after the 79th return to the store, it was sent to the mechanic, who (surprise) found it faultless. Next time the problem recurred the woman was shown how to jam the bobbin case into the machine in such a way that it would be less likely to escape its casing.
That seemed to sort things out for a while, but occasionally the problem crept back, which caused the woman to name the machine You Uncooperative Bitch. Every time she sat down at the machine, she felt nervous and frequently sewed at very low speeds to avoid hiccups. For the next three years, the woman persisted with the machine - carefully cleaning it after every use, changing needles at the drop of a hat and so forth. YUB was handled with kid gloves, but the problems persisted and started to multiply - now YUB would just keep sewing after her foot was removed from the pedal, sometimes for a full minute or two. The woman had very crumbly bones that kept breaking all the time and sitting at the machine became an arduous and painful task for her.
Finally, she reached the limit of her patience and marched into the store, determined to get a satisfactory outcome - i.e. agreement that the machine was a lemon and should have been replaced under warranty in the very first place. The toffee nosed madam who owned the franchise recommended she "upgrade to the next model" (HMMMMM - why would she not suggest a replacement of like for like) that she explained cost over $2000. She looked haughtily at the woman's machine and said she could only offer $400 as a trade in value as YUB was well worn by now (and had problems that would hinder its resale). The woman drew a deep breath and explained that was unsatisfactory and that she felt the company should honour its warranty. Toffee Nose said that warranty issues were handled by the mechanic, offered to call him but said that the company would just want to "fix" the machine. She phoned the mechanic who was busy but would call her back and disappeared into the back room. The woman waited, resisted the temptation to either burst into tears or pick up the nearest heavy object (and there were several close by) and implant it in Toffe Nose's brain. Luckily, the anti-depressant medication was working well that day or another ugly scene may have ensued, similar to one several years back when a clerk threatened to call the police. The woman was the only customer in the store and she noted that the other two retail assistants were making a huge production of looking extremely busy with "stuff" and avoided eye contact. Finally the woman said very calmly but very loudly "Well, I have things to do. I can leave that matter with you, can I? You will call me and let me know." Toffee Nose miraculously appeared from the depths of the back room and tried not to seem too relieved that the woman was going. She even offered to send the machine to the mechanic for an opinion and offered the woman the loan of a machine - a version of OF, no less! A plan was forming in the woman's head. She had lost faith in the company (let's call them Company X) and decided she would inform them in writing about this and the reasons for her extreme disappointment. In the meantime, she might just see what Company Y could offer, as Company Y had been recommended as being a work horse.
The woman has been delighted by using the newer version of OF which does everything she asks of it, even though it has not been oft cleaned or serviced either. Also, despite having a brand new fracture of one of the larger ribs at the upper back, she has been able to sew for quite lengthy periods and even to write a longish posting on her blog - something YUB rarely permitted her.
Notice, dear reader, no names, no pack drill - at this stage. HOWEVER, if the response to the woman's complaint is poor - there will be plenty of naming of names for sure.

LITTLE THINGS THAT ARE DONE

2008-09-15T18:10:00.000+08:00

Ta da!! I have finished hand embroidering the burnt piece I was working on, mounted and framed it with an old frame I hotglued some shells from Broome onto.

This is just an indulgent photo of my youngest grandson, Kieran, who thinks it hilarious to crawl away from his grandmother as soon as he is removed from the bath. Look at those gorgeous curls!
Now, my news and what has kept me from this blog. I have had some baddish news from the bone specialist that they have not managed to stop the deterioration of my skeleton. I kind of knew anyway from the level of the pain. God help me, I appear to have now passed the skeletal age of 95!!! So, it now becomes a matter of priority for me to move into a much smaller residence which means this house must be sold. That of course means that I have to carefully remove any trace of personality and (shock horror) colour and neutralise to appeal to the mass buyer market of bland loving home owners. I have started by painting out the glorious purple with pearlised swirls in my bedroom and have replaced it with a pale green, actually not so bad, almost a duck egg blue. Today I painted the back toilet and the laundry room in the same colour. Both were pains as there was so much to be taped out. Anyway, I have given myself a year to get this done and a year to find a new place. I am in discussions with my daughter and son-in-law about possibly building a "granny flat" at their place. Maybe, we shall see.

SPECS CASE

2008-09-02T17:11:00.003+08:00

Here are images of the spectacles case that I promised to post. I bought this in Broome at the Monsoon Gallery - no idea who the artist is otherwise I would acknowledge, but I got rid of the packaging. The website is :www.monsoongallery.com.au and I am sure they could give more information about the artist. The middle photo shows the front, right is the back and to the left is the inner workings part that shows lining and a large thingo (press studs we sometimes call them). Pieces of monotoned shiny/sparkly fabric have been joined diagonally into a rectangular shape, with some embellishment in the form of yarn and beads. Some of the individual pieces have been irregularly ruched to give texture. Pics don't do it justice, really. Do go to the website, she (the artist) had some stunning pieces in the gallery - it was a question of what I could afford really.

YES - IT'S OFFICIAL!

2008-08-30T17:41:00.004+08:00

I am definitely in love with this whole thing! And thanks so much for the boost Arlee! May good things come your way (tee hee).

Here's where I am at, having had to FORCE myself to stop this afternoon. I am doing a bit of mulling about embellishment and I feel it needs a frame of some kind.

Now, just a little tip for any would be pyros out there. Of course you know that the fumes are somewhat toxic and one should of course wear a mask. I was evah so careful about this, but annoyed to find that every time I did this I got an instant migraine from the chemically pong. Determined not to let this small hazard deter moi, I approached a friendly gent at the hardware and divulged some (but not all) of my dilemma. He said I should be using a P2 rated face mask, which are a bit more expensive than the cheapie ones at the supermarket, but still paper and so worth it if you suffer like me. Bit of a shame in a way really, I used to get the same side effect from using chemical oven cleaner - hence abandoned the practice of cleaning said oven entirely. I also pretended not to know thing one about green cleaning, which of course I can do and I think is way better. Now I really cannot profer this excuse any more.

Appropos of nothing, weird dream last night that the nun who taught me Art and English in High School had left a comment on my blog abhorring my spelling! All I was scared about (and I was scared) was the swear words she had come across. And of course now I am getting paranoid about my spelling!

I THINK I'M SERIOUSLY IN LOVE.....

2008-08-29T10:45:00.002+08:00

...with this technique! Early days, I know but I'm loving how the burning process intensifies the depth of colour and of course turning these strips of sheer into crispy critters is satisfying in a creepy way of itself. This is the jump off inspiration for what I am creating:

LOVING THIS? - NOT SO MUCH

2008-08-27T18:35:00.001+08:00

I don't know what it is, but I cannot seem to fall in love with this piece (hence the pins that might be visible in the outside trim will most likely stay there!) The other night, unable to sleep, for some bizarre reason I frenetically worked on this the whole night and by the end had the most hideous migraine. I even had taken it outside, pegged it to my clothesline and, with a cigarette lighter, set fire to the layered sheer pieces that I had sewn on. Whilst a great deal of fun, I just keep getting that Nyah feeling. A good outcome, though, was that my brain engineered a new set of ideas, partly inspired by that piece of arson and fanned by reading through a back issue of QA (number - do you think I can find that sucker? It's probably under my bed!) Anyway, it's the one about using strips of sheer fabric abused with a heat gun and attached to a background to form a kind of picture or scene, heavily embroidered and embellished as appropriate. Aha! Perfect methinks for my Broome series (?) as I have been enamoured of sheers for yonks and often fiddle with em. My latest preoccupation with layering even had me creating all kinds of trendy ruffles made out of spirals of sheer fabric. I like that effect too, but I am pretty keen on this newie! To the relief of one and all I even splurged on a gas fuelled heat gun today at the hardware store, where I also had to purchase mulch as it was so warm today that it would have been criminal not to be in the garden and we are expecting rain tonight, so my decks will be cleared after my babysitting duties of the day. I am also labouriously attempting some silk paper creating. I say labourious because I am literally deconstructing pieces of silk fabric down to the thread. It is perfect zoned out work at the end of the day.

PS I found it. The QA issue is 24 (it was sitting face down right in front of me!) and the article is called "Sheer Landscape" by Inche Berlyn.

VERY SLOW WIP

2008-08-22T08:55:00.000+08:00

These are the very beginnings of a work focussed on the amazing geology of Broome.

As I am experiencing God awful pain sitting at my sewing machine for lengthy periods (hope this is not a taste of things to come), I am hand sewing the layers. It is very tedious and at this rate I will finish in about 25 years, so I need to start rethinking how I work - more heat and burning, more painting and perhaps using paper?
I have a shameful admission. I spent most of the morning howling my eyes out while watching the early morning TV news which has been tragically focussed on the fate of a baby humpback whale whose mummy abandoned it in Sydney Harbour. Poor thing, named Colin, has been trying to suckle from larger boats in the harbour. As Australians, we are very sooky la la about whales - we tend not to see them as main course as in other cultures. Our experience in the West is of them frolicking off our coastline as they migrate up and down from the Pole. We consider them beautiful, amazing creatures - not pests. Hence, there has been enormous public hue and cry about the fate of poor Colin. Vets have been called in to see if they could try to keep him alive by artificial feeding - a bit like what they did in the States with a similar species. Apparently, the difficulty for poor old Col is that he would need krill in his diet, especially at weaning time and that in massive amounts daily would need to be obtained from the Antarctic. Also, there is no way to know why his mum abandoned him in the first place and so, ideally he should eventually join another pod as he gets older, but scientist think it highly unlikely he would be accepted and more likely that he would be attacked by other whales. The worst part, I think, is that the media seems obsessed with showing us endless footage of this poor baby suckly dead old boats and of course we watch it with inevitable horrified fascination. Anyway, the decision has been made to end his suffering as he is starving to death, weak and in a lot of pain, having been attacked by sharks when they tried to take him out to deeper water. Oh my nature is certainly harsh sometimes.

A SMALL VENT

2008-08-19T10:01:00.000+08:00

Here are some experiments following my inspiration from the remarkable colours and geological features seen in Broome. These prove to me and the world that I have not just been sitting on my bum this last week and a bit. In between my usual babysitting commitments and dabbling in the garden, I have been doing some stuff!
And, of course, our winter in Perth seems to be officially all but over. It is supposed to rain today, but the past week has been gloriously spring-like. Lovely temps in the low twenties and
everything bursted into full bloom already. It has been so ideal for gardening that I just had to get out and remove the 20 bazillion weeds that sprouted whilst I was away and it had poured. (Hah! Good timing, what?) I also lumped over 2 tonnes of black mulch over the garden beds which just about killed me, but looks fabulous and will really help if we end up getting not so much more rain. (Meteorologists are so excited that the dams are at 35% capacity for the first time in yonks and yonks, but looks a bit like follow up is going to die in the arse.)
Now, be prepared for a scorching blast at communications companies! A few months ago I changed my ISP - a general hoo hah in itself - and, as directed by the new people, filled in and sent back a form to have the monthly bill for my broadband direct debited from my bank account. Fine. Next thing, I get back from Broome to discover ALL the mail from that week stuffed into my letterbox and completely soggy despite the fact that my youngest daughter was staying at my house, supposedly to collect the mail each day. But that's another story in itself about her irresponsibility etc. Amongst the wet mail was a nasty letter from said ISP to say they had not received money to pay account and unless they did within seven days, service would be disconnected. Needless to say, that seven days had passed by the time I got the letter in my hands and I had no phone and no internet. The letter went on to note that if I had any questions, I could call a number - BUT FROM A LANDLINE!!!! or I could contact them through their website. HOW????????????????? So. that day (a Friday) I was busy doing 59 loads of washing that had to get draped all over the house because it was still raining, re-stocking my pantry and fridge that had been completely emptied by said daughter and changing my bedlinen after removing all the WET towels off it (every single towel in my house was draped somewhere around the place in some kind of damp state) - all of which led me to a strong suspicion that this young lady had not been here on her own!! (Hence the urgent need for fresh bedlinen) On weekend, no phone, no internet and no way to contact company who keep 9-5 hours weekdays only. On the Monday, I had to drive to my daughter's house (the eldest, married one) and sit on her phone in a queue for 45 minutes until I got some person who really copped it from me, as in "I have done all the right things, blah blah, what the hell....?" She calmly stated that everything was now sorted - the direct debit had been processed and I should go home, turn everything off for 10 minutes, turn back on and everything would work. Which it did. For four days. The next Friday, I try to ring someone - no phone. Try turning on computer and accessing internet - no go. Furious, I go next door and sit on neighbour's phone for 30 minutes in queue and finally have to give up as she had to go out. So this process of using other people's phones and sitting in queues for periods up to an hour at a time continued all week long. Finally, yesterday (Monday) I decided I was just going to wait on my daughter's phone (all day if necessary) until I got hold of a human being. Being cheerfully informed at constant intervals that they were experiencing high volumes of calls and if my call was non-urgent, perhaps I could call back later or maybe try contacting them via their website, was more than merely annoying. Hence after close to an hour when I finally got hold of some poor soul - did he cop it!!The worst part of the whole thing was that he tried to lie to me about the reason for being disconnected. He said it was for non-payment of my account. I explained that was just so much bullshit because of my previous contact with the company. Then he tried to tell me it was probably the fault of the bank. I told him that I very much doubted that, as we were talking about the biggest bank in Australia and I have never had a problem with other direct debit arrangements through them before. He got quite snarky with me when I told him to inform the accounts people that they better not have the audacity to charge me for the week and a bit they had cut me off. "Why is that, madam?" he asked. Because, you moron, none of this is my fault and you did not even have the courtesy of telling me before cutting me off the second time. He insisted it must be a bank problem. I think steam was emanating from my brain by then, but of course, I just wanted my phone and my world back again, so I told him I would be writing to the company about the atrocious customer service, etc, etc. and hung up. At least I have my lifeline reconnected, I suppose and realistically, I guess they probably will charge me and I will get furious and that will take another year off my life expectancy. This might sound melodramatic, but I said to my daughter "Sometimes, I just feel drained by the fact that every single aspect of my life seems like a huge struggle. Why does it have to be that way?" Let's hope there's a payoff somewhere in the future.

I'M BA_A_ACK AND INSPIRED

2008-08-05T10:48:00.005+08:00

I returned from Paradise on the weekend. What an amazing place Broome is! I am so inspired by everything I saw and did there that I can hardly wait to get organised and start creating.

Where do I start? The brilliant saturation of pure colour in the northern region of this vast state is breathtaking. When you see the photos it's hard to believe they have not been manipulated - but that is the true colour you are seeing. Flying up the coast it is astounding to see thousands and thousands of Kilometers of vast white beaches with not a living soul around - with the rich redness of the iron laden dirt kissing the beachfronts that extends so far. I couldn't help but be staggered by the geology and the fact that there is so much potential wealth in that soil that you could never imagine it all being tapped. And all those thousands of islands off the coast like little gems in the aqua and turquoise ocean. How many wealthy millionaires would give their eyeteeth to own just one of them? It's all protected of course and I guess we must be grateful about that, but I would love to be down there exploring the magic of it all. There are dinosaur footprints that you can go see in Broome as well as fossils of so many types, so just imagine what is down that vast coastline that no one knows about. I think I remember from school days that Australia is the oldest continent and looking at that part of the country, it is so believable.

As for Broome itself, laid back to the extreme. People just shamble through the town (we call it Broome time) in the glorious sunshine - perfect summer weather at this time of year - low to mid 30s during the day and quite cool at night. Everywhere you look there are magnificent old native boab trees, relics and memorials from Broome's early days as a pearling harbour using first Aboriginal and then Japanese labour. There are also awful reminders of the fact that Broome was bombed by the Japanese during WW2 (that I had forgotten about). Mango and coconut trees abound throughout the town, maginificent beachside resorts butt up to the coastline and there are some astonishingly opulent homes being built. Everywhere businesses are desperate for workers as a lot of people have moved inland towards Newman with the huge resources boom the State is experiencing. There are a lot of casual backpackers working in the restaurants and shops. There are lots and lots of shops selling pearl jewelry and mother of pearl items. Some of it is a bit ho-hum, some horrendously expensive and some is just stunning. I came back with quite a few items myself and a couple of gifts for my girls. I wish I could describe so much more for you, but if you ever geta chance you must go there. Avoid the "wet" (November to March) as apparently it is revolting weather and people have been known to kill themselves at that time due to the oppressive humidity, constant rain and heat. Here's a taste of my inspiration.

FEELS LIKE SPRING AT LAST!

2008-07-26T16:11:00.002+08:00

Today is such a gorgeously warm sunny day in Perth. You can feel Spring is je-e-e-e-est around the corner - but!! tomorrow it is going to pelt down with rain again - apparently. I don't care because I am off to sunny Broome tomorrow - YAY!!!!!! My first real holiday since Jesus was baptised. So, although this post is just boring text, next one should have loads of inspirational pics. Also, have only done boring stuff today, like cleaning, packing, shopping, internet snooping as I cannot sit bottom to chair for too long with excitement. Yay! Summer for me tomorrow and by the time I get back - well you might as well say winter here will be fading fast.

LITTLE THINGS.....

2008-07-23T18:12:00.000+08:00

These are a couple of examples of the felt book I made for the boys of "Our Family". No one is allowed to complain about how they have been depicted. As you can tell, my fabric
portraits are very realistic!
And here's what happened when I let little Kieran feed himself some Petit
Miam. What cannot be seen is the highchair tray and my floor also generously coated in strawberry goo.

LOOK AT MY WORK!

2008-07-19T17:03:00.002+08:00

See what I made today??/ No mean feat, putting those wretched Ikea thingies together, as everyone knows. So I feel justifiably proud of my effort. I am also working on a little cloth book of family faces that I will have pics for shortly. This is all for my gorgeous little grandson, Kieran who turns 1 tomorrow (where the hell did THAT year go?). I minded him and his bro on Friday (yesterday) as mummy had to work, mainly to pay for all the medication needed for poor sick little bubbie. Kieran has bronchial pneumonia, two ear infections and asthma. Luckily, as is the way with tiny ones, just spoke to Nat and he is back to his happy little self today, although still coughing badly. And, joy of joys, I get to have them overnight tonight because mummy and daddy are going out and it is wa-a-a-a-a-ay too cold to take sick bubbies in and out in this weather. I know, I sound pathetic, but it is honestly the highlight of my life to get to spend so much time with these little boys - I actually consider it a privelege to babysit them. I love my littlies to bits and pieces.

This will show you how much enjoyment Kieran gives me.

ALIVE AND WELL.......ALIVE!!

2008-07-17T03:51:00.003+08:00

Hello poor little abandoned blog. I am truly alive and I think of you often. Having just woken up at 3:30a.m., I decided to grab the bull by the horns and stop watching Fabulous Abs and just get down and boogey on this thing. Sometimes, with a block, you just have to "have at it" and do something to get out of the endless nothingness.

Small explanations for lengthy absence is required:

1.) Wedding of Nat and Dan in late April. Such a glorious and wonderful day in the vineyards. Everyone looked beautiful, especially my gorgeous girl and those two little babies in their Mafioso tuxedos were just cuteness on sticks.

2.) Rapidly followed by the 2 week honeymoon, during which poor old Dan came down with pneumonia. Looking after those wee treasures left zero time for the frazzled grandmother to create or to blog or even to spit.

3.) So, of course the frazzled grandmother's resistance to germs dropped and I came down with a ghastly flu - you know the full blown version with the aches and pains, sweats and chills, vomitting, coughing, blah blah. For several weeks, I could barely lift my head off the pillow.

4.) Endless battling with my ex's superannuation firm culminating a three year paper warfare escalation to the point of my own (almost) capitulation in sheer exhaustion. Thank God I did not and put in the final push as I finally got the half I was rightfully due. I have been busy clearing lots of debt and doing necessary things, like replacing my dying car and booking a holiday to Broome (my first holiday in more than 5 years, closer to 10).

5.) Just to put the icing on the cake, two more flu episodes - the last of which I am still coughing and sweating with. God, I hate winter.

Also, I have to admit, I am a Leo, ruled by the Sun and tend to suffer terribly in the short Perth winter weeks - pathetic as that may be. I really don't understand it - I love rain and that's what it does here in winter, it rains and rains and it's not really terribly cold. You cannot go outside in the middle of winter at 4:00a.m. for a smoke with just your jamies and slippers on, can you? It may be that I am a sufferer of SAD (Seasonally Affected Disorder) which would not be surprising since I have been on anti-depressants for longer than I care to remember and if I should miss a morning dose, wonder why I feel like fainting by lunchtime and howling my eyes out over some stupid documentary about the baby dinosaurs being eaten by their parents.

Well, I feel I have broken the long evil dark spell (maybe). Inspired by the archangel Arlee, I am determined to write something daily if at all possible (maybe). No, I must be firm and positive, I can do this. After all, how inspiring to have blogged for 4 years! Happiest blogaversary to you, happiest blogaversary to you, happy blogaversary dear Arlee, happy blogaversary to you.

Have I achieved anything? Well, yes - I have been sidetracked in the dressmaking arena for quite a while, making several little numbers for myself and a couple of things for the grandsons. I ventured into a small frenzy of getting myself organized better and designed and made some magazine holder thingies. I was a tad cross with myself when I found they were a bit too tall to fit into any but my lowest shelf and also that Ikea has perfectly formed and sized cheap little card numbers that I could have simply covered and saved myself some angst into the bargain. Nonetheless, it were some'at, weren't it? Here are the magnum opi:

(A wonderful way to use up scraps and oddments of UFOs).

HAUT COUTURE

2008-03-04T18:31:00.000+09:00

Here tis! The finished dress. It blew around a bit in the fan whilst I was photographing it, but it is lovely and fits me beautifully. I am inspired to go on with another idea I had for a LBD, as I have never owned one and feel I might have reached the age where I should own one.
I am also hard at work on this month's TIF challenge that I must do, because I am worried that April, being the big wedding month, might see me having to miss the challenge.

SIDETRACKED IN SEWING LAND

2008-02-27T19:09:00.002+09:00

Having a bit of difficulty getting this to show the detail of the vest. But here it is buttoned and finished and I am loving it. The side fastening is also shown below. Love that unusual finish.

I also got very excited and started making myself a dress based on something I spied in a fashion magazine. (Above)
I have been in love with that colour pink as long as I can remember and I had a flash of inspiration to incorporate a skirt that I have had since 1985 which is a silk designer thingie and I have never been able to part with it. So I found the perfect hot pink silk chiffon and I am off and away. I already had a pattern very similar to the style in the book(Simplicity 4996) - which is really just a fancy sort of shift. Alls I had to do was make the skirt straighter and add a pleat insert (in this case, my designer skirt fabric).
I also shortened the width of the shoulders. I am thinking of possibly putting a few little pink roses on the base of the neck maybe as the bodice of the dress I have cut out of the designer silk. I have included for your viewing pleasure a pic of the front of the skirt with the inserted pleat.

TAKE IT FURTHER - FEBRUARY

2008-02-26T18:11:00.003+09:00

Ta da da da ta ta ta tarum!!!! My work is ddone on the February Take It Further challenge. I am old enough to remember when recycling was called poverty! We religiously recycled our glass and bottles (that were mostly dark green in colour) in hessian bags, collected weekly by the "bottlo" dude with his horse and cart. I used cellophane, crumpled and torn, fme'd it to a piece of hessian, did some more fme randomly around it and inserted a couple of glittery bits of braid and sewed on some fake emeraldy looking button things.

Not only that, I managed to make the Istanbul vest shown in Threads magazine of November 07. This is not such a great shot, but I will put some nice buttons on it tomorrow and show how it came out. It is really lovely in the flesh, so to speak, making use of the most beautiful red cashmere scarf my daughter gave me a few years ago, but that I have hardly worn - it's simply not cold enough in Perth generally speaking. However, I have become a tad excited about the harbingers of autumn because of my need to reach for the cotton blanket a couple of nights last week. Today and this week, though we seem to have lurched back to the situation where I will be sleeping with the fan on for a few nights yet. Still, I like the idea of wearing cotton shirts and vests in the autum with my jeans, it is just about the right wardrobe to carry me through til next summer.

TAKE IT FURTHER CHALLENGE - FEBRUARY

2008-02-24T11:12:00.000+09:00

These are some of my thoughts about the challenge theme - I am old enough to remember >>>>. I wanted to jot down mainly happy thoughts that would be unique to me and my memories of growing up. I could have gone into things like the day JFK got shot and so on but I really felt the need to deal with something special and also joyful. What have selected from the random scribblings at left is the sights and sounds of the old "bottlo" guy that used to collect everyones empty bottles once a week (and you got paid for it!) This was recycling before we knew what recycling was. He had a horse and cart of all things and there were always large pats of horse poo in the back lanes as reminders of his visit. I remember the glass always being green and thick (don't know if my memory is correct or not - maybe just the beautiful emerald bits were the ones that captured my eye. I also remember he had heaps of hessian bags in his cart.
The work I did is so close to finished (and has been since February 5!!!) I have just been distracted by other things. I am hoping to post the final tomorrow.

GOODBYE MATE

2008-02-18T02:53:00.001+09:00

I haven't blogged for some time because a.) I have had some ghastly gastro bug that hung on for yonks and b.) my dog, Kahluah had to go. Let me explain. Kahluah is/was 12 years old and originally belonged to my daughter Nat. Then, as kids do, she left home and good ol Mum got custody, as I did when my husband nicked off. I always felt kind of sorry for that dog because she came into a house that already owned a highly intelligent, but slightly neurotic border collie - Tess. Tess took her role as top dog far too seriously and young Kahluah suffered rather badly from more than one savagings, cuffs about the earhole and general reminders that she was nobody and nothing on this earth. Now, I'm not sure if this is what made her odd or if her mother had, in fact, sat on her at birth, but she seemed somewhat, well to be kind not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She would wander off into the garden and stand there staring into middle distance for hours on end as if she had completely forgotten why she came out in the first place. Eventually, Tess got so old and crabby and arthritic from all her youthful fence leaping (as a sheep dog is wont), that the savaging became worse and worse and I put my foot down and said I could not bear it any more. Much as I had always loved Tess, it was poor little Kahluah that snuk into my room every night and snuggled up against my legs and God help her if Tess ever discovered it! I tell you, if looks could kill, Tess could produce some truly psychopathic ones. So, shortly before the separation, my husband and I had to have Tess euthanased and that was a horrible, horrible day.
So Kahluah has been my main companion really for a long, long time. Unfortunately, as she is a red cloud Kelpie (a cattle dog) she can dig holes from here to China, escape from any kind of barricade I could create and run like the wind. At one time, Nat had a cop as a boyfriend and K escaped, running all over the road like a lunatic and he could not catch her even though he was the fastest athlete in his group. For me, on my own with all my various broken bones and things, I had no hope of catching her or being strong enough (nor had the desire) to concrete the entire garden, which would have been the only hope of containing her. There were several consecutive episodes of my helplessly watching her (still, even at 12) charge like a rabbit up and down the middle of our extremely busy road, while the 70+ year old neighbours and some complete strangers walking/driving past tried to catch her. The only hope of doing so is when her intelligence deficiency trips her up and she accidentally runs away down the driveway and can be trapped. Every day for 2 years I have filled in cavities the size of the Grand Canyon and have tried every method I can think of without success in stopping her, including filling the holes with her own excrement. I have reconstructed and reinforced my side fences with everything from bricks and concrete slabs to barbed wire, but still she finds a way - sometimes she would just dig underneath and make herself a wee tunnel. For such a dumb, sorry, not so sharp dog, she sure was determined, if not wilful. Finally it came to a point where I physically could not go on and I was beginning to feel angry with her, even tho she's only a dog. I was constantly feeling quite nauseous at the thought of her being splattered across Cockman Road one day quite soon. So, after months of debate, I consulted with Nat, who offered to take her - but really, I told her it's a big challenge with two babies and your own idiot dog (yet another border collie) and who knows how the top dog thing would go (maybe the memory was sharper than the other brain functions and revenge can be sweet). She agreed fairly easily, so I took K to the RSPCA. Their assessment was that she was basically antisocial (oh, yeah, forgot to mention that she had recently taken to attacking other dogs nowhere near her own property and sometimes threatened poor old people walking on the pavement.) I grovelled, begged and pleaded to at least try to place her - maybe someone on a large property would be willing to take her. Finally, they agreed, but warned that I was aware what the alternative would be if they could not place her quickly and did I want to know how many days they could keep her before option b? No, I said, I don't even want you to tell me what option b is (although it's blatantly frigging obvious) and I certainly do not wish to have any idea when that will occur.
Now, as if this story isn't sad enough and I do accept, as my Dad once said to me "The trouble with pets, dear is that they will go before you." God knows, I certainly have had to say goodbye to my fair share over the years, including the cat that nobody could find for a week until I noticed four very stiff paws sticking up through the ivy near the mailbox and then had to bury myself, dressed like some kind of CSI lab assistant with Vicks under my nose to try to block the stench - because my great lummox of a son was hungover. When I informed my youngest daughter who has not lived with me for 3 years and asked her to let her brother know also, I got the cold and stoney silence of the mortally offended. Then again, that girl never really grew out of the egocentric stage of childhood. Nat later informed me that my husband's comment was "Typical of your mother to make decisions like that on a whim." Taz, my baby, rang me the next day to apologize for her selfishness and lack of consideration for my sadness and my loneliness - mind you, only after her sister had blasted living hell out of her about it. Nothing from son, STeve, but then again, I haven't heard from him in over a month (new chick on scene).
I just cannot get over the comment of my husband. I mean, how dare he even think he has a right to say anything at all. He hasn't borne the burden of looking after his own children, let alone any pets in the house. I have been trying so hard not to speak negatively about him and certainly never do to the children, but obviously he doesn't return that respect to me as their mother. I mean, I have never said that he is an emotionally cruel, mysogonistic, right brain lobotomized bastard, have I? No. I didn't even let him have it (tho in hindsight I should have) when he invited Nat and Steve to join him and Taz on the stage to toast her 21st birthday a couple of years back, while I stood like a lump of nothing with the "guests". When they all wrapped arms around each other I nearly puked at the fakeness, remembering all the times he has torn them to shreds and taken out his rage on them, while I have dealt with the consequences, bandaging up all the emotional wounds. Nat told me after that she felt embarassed and awkward as my husband was the one putting on the party and calling the shots and I understand that a scene was not appropriate at that time. It's not the kids I blame for this - I just don't understand why he feels it necessary to punish me this way, when he was the one who initiated the breakup.
There - it's out. I feel like I have dumped quite a lot in this entry and that I can leave it behind me now, it's buried and dead. And listen folks, don't worry too much - I am smarter than the average bear and right now I am just biding my time and waiting for the right moment to start the divorce proceedings. Believe me, it is in my best interests to be patient a while longer and I can say no more.
By the way, dumb - no, not smart as she was, you have to give it to Kahluah for patiently letting a 2 year old wrap her up in fabric pieces at her age!!!

IT IS DONE!

2008-02-01T19:24:00.000+09:00

Here are the final results of my January Take It Further Challenge. I honestly finished it yesterday (31 Jan) but have not been able to do my posting until today. The picture at left shows some of the detail and you can see that I incorporated some pieces of jewelry in the piece as I had wanted, some special to me pieces that were broken or had lost pairs etc. I am really quite pleased with the result and I will hang it on my wall. It achieved a lot of what I wanted to say about my dad - like the upper right and lower left corners that are basically pieces of "found" things to remind me that he was the original recycler. He would constantly spot old bits of rubbish on the road, like a rusty old screw, pick it up and put it in his pocket saying that it would "come in handy" one day.
I feel sorry for my brother and sister who had to clean out his place - when he died - they said he had newspapers and stuff dating back to the 1930's, but those two being the blasphemous part of the family threw it all away!
Now the reason I have taken so long to post. I hate, absolutely HATE HATE talking about my own health. However, here's the story. I may even have mentioned before that I have the world's largest (according to my doctor) birthmark. It is on my right thigh and extends from hip to knee and is usually purple and mottly looking. It never bothered me much and I think it was mostly less obvious when I was younger and maybe more warmblooded (so it was paler). As I have aged, it seems every knock and bump results in what they call a varicose ulcer which are hereditary in my family. One caused my grandfather to die (at 98 mind you) when the crusty scab knocked off in his sleep and he bled to death. Great way to go, really, you wouldn't know much about it. Problem is, I am more than 40 yrs younger than that and they are excruciatingly painful and notoriously difficult to heal. /The current one I have occurred 2 years ago and it still looks like a bloody crater. I have had skin grafts on previous ones, but the problem is that the whole kit and caboodle, nerves, blood vessels and God knows what is apparently malformed so the skin grafting bizo sometimes doesn't work. Now the docs are saying that the whole birth mark needs to go - God am I dreading that. As I no longer can afford private health insurance, I am forced into the situation where this is deemed an elective procedure and I have to wait until I can see a specialist (maybe even for years). In the meantime, I have to go get this bastard properly cleaned out and dressed by the nurse twice a week (which makes me scream and frighten all the children in the waiting room!) I find it hurts so much now, it makes me limp constantly and I can't play with my grandsons like I used to. I can't "be" an excavator on the floor any more and that really shits me!!!! Also by the end of the day, the stupid leg starts collapsing under me, because I think the muscle is being affected it is so deep. All in all - intolerable and I am going to see yet another doctor next week for yet another opinion.
In the meantime, I love you all and I love what I do so life can't be all bad - can it>

LOVING ALL MY CYBERBUDDIES!

2008-01-21T18:32:00.000+09:00

Thank you all so much for the beautiful messages you left for me. I created a massive migraine for myself, but I feel today as if the air is clear and my spirit has soared. I love you all so much, guys and I love what each of you creates - you fill me with awe.
Today was just what I needed - time with Dylan all day as Nat had to take Kieran for his 6 month (My God where did that time go?) vaccinations. Although not yet 3, Dylan's linguistic talents are astounding (not that I am biased!) He informed me today as he draped a piece of my precious jacket fabric (for MOB outfit) over the lamp that he "Need my cwocodile scissors to cut out this special top for mummy's wedding."

TAKE IT FURTHER AND OTHER BITS

2008-01-20T12:05:00.000+09:00

2008-01-20T10:45:00.000+09:00

I really must blog more frequently (perhaps a NY resolution?), otherwise I have so much to catch up on and feel I am going down a plughole.

OK. First matter of business, a brief tute on the baby shower/gift bouquet that seems so resoundingly popular. Strange, isn't it - I am not a fan of them particularly but the recipients rave. Oh well, if you are curious - first have a look at this http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.3a0656639de62ad593598e10d373a0a0/?vgnextoid=b554932aa64a5110VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&autonomy_kw=baby%20gift&rsc=header_21 where Martha gives a pretty full on description of the process. The only difference was that I used flowers made, first from fabric paper (very thick petals, so u need less) and then from the interfacing thingy I showed last post. I also did a little experiment recently, using the same principles but I made my own little floral bowl and put a block of florists' foam into it. Then I inserted the flower and leaf stems and the rolled up gifties to make a kind of arrangement.

Stupidly, I was in such a rush to finish that I forgot a photo. BUT, it goes thusly:

1. Make shape to mould your bowl over. I upturned a smallish, flatish bowl and taped a square of florists foam to the base. You can slick Vaseline over if you are worried about removal later.

2. Sandwich a piece of water soluble stabiliser between two pieces of sheer fabric.

3. OPTIONAL - scatter some threads, chopped up bits and bobs and FME to hold them down.

4. Work out the overall size of "circle" you are going to need (sorry u need some Math). and cut out from the fabric.

5. Machine stitch around the edge.

6. Carefully rinse out the stabiliser and slap the thing on your mould - preferably out in the sun.

7. Very, extremely generously slop on some fabric stiffening liquid (I guess starch might work - the real stuff, not the spray). Two coats can be useful.

8. Allow to dry very much to a crisp (oh, yeah you will need to kind of fold the top bits to fit both the foam piece and the rounded bowl edge fairly closely). If you wish, after removal, you can varnish the bowl inside and out, but you don't have to if you have made it very firm.

Here's a picture of a similar bowl that I made some time ago and embellished round the edge after with wire and beads.

Man, am I weally, weally excited cos I just worked out how to put that photo there using HTML!!

NOW - this is for Sharon B regarding the Take It Further challenge. I feel slack that I have not posted anything yet, but my mind has been far from idle. Here goes. My source of inspiration is my gorgeous old Dad who, at the age of 84 flew from Canberra to me in Perth a couple of years ago. He was doing what loving dads do - trying to help me out when I was lower than a snake's belly. Anyway, long story short - he was so ill when he arrived (wheelchaired off the plane, white as a sheet and had lost about 10 stone). He used to be such a giant of a man - 6 ft 4 in and 20 stone and of course I was rocked to my very core to see him like this and horrified that my sister and brother in Canberra had allowed him to travel. He was so frail and wouldn't eat or drink anything (made him feel sick), so I forced him to see my doc who took me into another room (always a nasty little signal that) to prepare me for his imminent death. He was put into a Vet Affairs hospital and lasted about 2 weeks. He was such a beautiful man - a wonderful loving, caring and most generous father to all his seven children, a brilliant artist, intellectually amazing right to the end and always, always a wicked, evil sense of humour. A spade was a shovel to my Dad and his honesty and braveness were aspirations I can only dream about. A couple of days before he died, his two younger sisters rang and asked me if they should fly over from Melbourne and Adelaide to see him. I asked Dad what he thought and he said "Good God no! I am not a hypocrite - I have had no liking for either of them in my lifetime, why would I want to see them now? What, do they want to come over and make sure that I kick the bucket?"

Recently my brother who is closest in age to me (I am the eldest) made some derogatory comments about Dad and his gambling problems (yes, he was addicted at one point - but let's talk glass houses and stones to my brother the ex-heroin addict). In a strange way, that was the stimulus for me to complete one of my very long languished UFOs (WISPs). It was GOING to be a tribute to my Dad to be a wall hanging in multi media. The bits of it were variously distributed around the house and I know full well why I never completed it. To this very second I have not accepted his death, in fact he frequently talks to me (yes, I'm still taking the medication) and some extraordinary things he has told me too. One of which is to stop farting around and TAKE IT FURTHER and finish it, after all what sort of a memorial am I setting up by being miserable and horribly sad (but not, NEVER CRYING) about his departure for a better place. No, I need to make something beautiful, something creative to remind me of his gentle giantness and his wonderful spirit.

So - I took some of the beautiful multi- coloured cloth I made (see previous entry) and did a bit of embroidery, beady and felting with silks and wools to enhance the glorious colours that reminded me - strangely of a story he told me not long before he died about his war service in the Coral Sea. Although born on Anzac Day, my dad refused to acknowledge the war until his very latter years (his fave brother disappeared - a RAAF pilot) and he never, ever told us children anything at all about the war. He just said it was awful and horrible and unimagineable and should never be "glorified". Anyway, he told me about how they travelled in the ship through all the beautiful islands, some really tiny and each sailor would pick out an island and pretend it was his. I loved that story, so I am going to incorporate some very special jewelry oddments into the piece. You know - odds and sods that have lost a pair or broken, but they are too precious to discard. So here is my progress to date:

INKY OUTCOMES

2008-01-17T09:31:00.000+09:00

Here beginnith the tutorial on making a bouquet gift using "flowers" made of fabric paper and other unusual stuff. Having made several of these with fabric paper in the past, I found it very stiff and rather bulky to manipulate - which is fine, but time consuming and not quite the result I wanted. So, I decided to see what I could do with the idea from QA magazine using my own interpretation.

First, I took a piece of thin sew-in interlining and, because it is very floppy and I did want some body, I first painted the whole thing with a mix of fabric stiffener and water (3 parts water, 1 part stiffener). The piece was laid out on a flat surface on a sheet of black plastic.

Then, I applied drops of my first colour choice in printer ink (I used the el cheapo refills that you can find in the supermarket. can find in the supermarket. Drip, splash, or do whatever randomly over interfacing.

I repeated that with the yellow and the blue. ( I have also used the same process with artists acrylic inks, so the number of spotty dots, etc and colours is up to you.) Don't worry about the colours overlapping now and then, this is good and makes interesting shades and tones.

Next, sprinkle as generously, or sparingly as u wish with rock, sea or lake crystals. Your fabric needs to be really wet for this to work and as I was working in very hot summer conditions, I had first thoroughly wetted my fabric before starting and after the salt was added, I gave it all a good drenching with water in a spray bottle. Now, the hard bit - be patient and have trust! Let the ink and salt do their magic. As you watch, the inks move around and interact with each other to produce some amazing results. Ideally you want to leave it alone at least overnight (as I did) or until thoroughly dry.

Notice, I only used the three primary colours but look at the multitude of interesting shapes and colours I got. I think it also picked up some of the white stiffener and whirled it through giving it almost neon brightness in some areas. Bottom picture is closeup of one area. Heat set the fabric, after brushing/picking off as many of the excess crystals remaining as you can. I used a sheet of baking paper to protect my iron and a setting of wool, 3 to 5 seconds per area.

The fabric needs to be cold water rinsed throroughly until you feel as if you have got rid of the salt completely. Be gentle, it is very delicate. A bit of disappointment sets in now as a lot of the ink seems to wash out and the whole starts looking a bit pale. Fear not, I was pretty happy with the outcome, after pegging it on my clothesline to dry:

I feel that a lot of the stiffener could have also rinsed out. Next time, I think I will try thicker interfacing and maybe begin with a few drops of white ink as one of my colours.

Next post, I will show how I made the baby shower bouquets.

AMAZING!

2008-01-14T19:04:00.000+09:00

I am doing my bit of a tutorial. It is taking ages and ages because I took a lot of pics and Google will only let me upload 4 at a time. I hope to publish tmorra. In the meantime, all you shoe gals MUST CHECK THIS OUT!!!!! http://8tokyo.com/2008/01/08/shoe-made-of-wrapping-paper/

BARING OF THE SOUL - OR THE MEANING OF THIS BLOG TITLE

2008-01-06T18:51:00.000+09:00

Having had little time to spit lately, have just spent a delicious half hour drooling on Arlee's last few blog entries. I would like to say that I resolve to be a better blogger but Betty Botter knows that only bitter butter will come from that batter. But, here I am and, as I promised to Arlee and all, here is what I laughingly call the space (s) I work in, on and under plus the storaged secretly unfinished, forgotten and languishing projects, with various materials and stuff I am "gonna do stuff with". My latest excuse is reasonable having to complete 4 bridesmaids dresses, my own dress, jacket and hat (I thought, plus maybe a bag) for the wedding. On top of that, I foolishly made floral baby bouquet thingies and arrangements that I will (definitely, promise, promise) post about, out of fabric paper and they have become extremely popular. To the point that people are pressing me to start a business (I will, probably) making them up as gifts to give at showers, etc. Plus my brain is reeling with all sorts of spinoff ideas and plans and how I can streamline the process, how I can access good wholesale suppliers and....... really and truly I do not have time to think about that now. I also have to do 100 wretched bonbonierre that are only half made and 100 chair wrap, bow, cover or tie thingies that don't cost an arm and a leg and look amazing (to rent, these bastards are $4 each, so there is another business I am thinking about). Any ideas, directions, websites etc anyone can offer will be smooched all over. OK, here goes, no more procrastinating:

Informal meals area with permanently set up sewing machine and ironing board.

Above, right is dining table, same are, covered with partly finished bits of clothing and even the high chair is not safe from storing some recent fabric purchased for the b.m.s.

At left, even armchairs are not safe - this in the family room holds a b.m. muslin being altered, plus my last year's Xmas tree (cardboard, black print) and a nest that Dylan made with wool for his baby birds (off the tree). Hell, I will get round to putting the decs away, it's not Easter yet.

Below, birdseye view of what I laughingly refer to as my coffee table, on this occasion scattered with Dylan's latest WIPs (God only knows what they are).

Above, right are the discarded projects from aeons ago at the bottom of the "baby's room" . These include, but are not limited to - knitting, crochet, scrumbling, scrapbooking (latter lasted 2 days til I realised it was rather like school projects.)

Next, we have the "spare" room, wherein shelves chockas with once upon a time nicely rolled and sorted fabrics lived. Now a project about my Dad, abandoned 2 years ago languishes atop a jumble pile, that has leapt to the floor in suicidal despair. Also in same room, a cupboard containing hangers of sheer fabrics, but alas, many of them have chosen the floor as a permanent residential site.

And finally, beginning under that we see the joke known as the abundant storage areas in the formal lounge and dining rooms. I could not even begin to list what horrors lie within. On that note, I leave to watch a Sunday movie about, appropriately enough, tsunamis.

IT'S ALL GOOD!!!!

2008-01-03T10:28:00.000+09:00

Yay! Hand turns out not to be fractured, thank God, because it was so fat and black and distorted that the doc was convinced it was and threatened to put it in a cast. Can u imagine in 40 plus degree heat? No, I have simply torn some tendons and permanently damaged some nerves, which is annoying because my fingers keep going

pins and needles

at the most random and awkward moments.

Can you guess what these pics are? I have been playing with Picasa.

MY KARMA IS DEFINITELY OUTA WHACK

2007-12-28T02:54:00.000+09:00

Can u believe it is 2:45 am and I am blogging (slowly) as it seems - having just fully got use of rt arm back post fracture that I have fractured my left wrist. I slipped near a swimming pool on Xmas day and put hand ou to save self (for those of u who don't know, it was over 41 degrees that day - Celsius). Any hoo didn't feel too much pain (see recipe for toxic alcoholic concoction further on) and next day (Boxing) was 45!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and wrist was a bi tender bu I managed to move my front fence boundary to a more sensible position, so thought, yeah OK a few aches and pains are par for course. By the way, this is what my poor little white climber looked like yesterday:

By last night it was fairly painful and I think I have slept about 3 winks with the excruciating throb of the bastard, Have taken 2 lots of morphine, so if this goes a bit weirdo, u will know y. Hasn't helped much,tho, so trying 2 distract brain by writing this. I must be the unluckiest cow in the universe!!!! Am waiting 4 decent hour to get someone to take me 2 hospital. Course, it may not be broken (let us hope) but I am pretty well acquainted with th nature of this particular beast by now with my crappy old bones.

OK here followeth my recipe for a most addicive and intoxicating cocktail thingy that has become a fam tradition for us at Xmas. Those in the northern hemisphere might orefer to try it in summer as it is best suited then.

MIDGES TOXIC TROPPO CHAMPERS

Take 1 large mango and "moosh" up the flesh (no need to blend if it is suitably ripe & my son now has possession of my Bamix anyway)

Add the pulp of 4 large passionfruit (brag, brag, mine were from my groaning vine) but u could sub tinned, bottled etc.

Stir thru thoroughly a miniature bottle of Grand Marnier (this will make about 24 ice cubes, enuf for 2 bottles of bubbly, but my alchoholic kids felt mor GM would not go astray.

Put into ice cube trays and freeze minimum 24 hrs. This yr, just 4 change & to add festive je ne sais quoi, I carefully spooned a few cranberries on top of each cube b4 freezing. (Yummo!!)

Serve in flutes topped with well chilled bubbly of choice - I use Ricciadone because it ha high alchohol content and it is sweet, but have tasted it with a Brut and even a flat Chardy - not bad, bu I prefer the Ricci as I have a sweet tooth even tho it is a bit unpatriotic of me and I avoid French Champagne on principle since they got all thing about the branding.

Last time Iposted that I woul give instructions 4 the photos in that entry, but honestly my one handed efforts have about hit the limit! Iwill get there,tho - have nay forgot! In the meantime, here is some more self indulgent bragging;

Youngest grandson, Kieran. K with mummy Nat and below, my fave boy, Dylan.

Finally, tho I cannot participate Arlee has an exciting sounding swapsie type project (wish I could). Here is the link: http://arleebarr.squarespace.com/designjournal/

BITS AND BOBS

2007-12-19T09:21:00.000+09:00

Quick note and last pre Xmas, so much too do, so little time. As promised to Arlee:

Multi fractured arm is so much better and having truckloads of physio - acourse not doing excercixes and lying bout it to physio! Also doing way more than sposed to, to here is sampling of my play time results of late:

All of these had captions in Picasa bu t I don't hink they r uploading, so don't know wot I am doing wrong. Will post tomorro, promise and describe the products also will redo photo editing as I must have forgottent to save changes, and these look like th origs. Gettin sore tho now. TTFN

SILLY OLD ME

2007-11-07T08:59:00.000+09:00

doing this with l hand as broke r one, so will b out of action awhile. too difficlt 2 write this way & so cross w me frustrated etc love 2 all!!!!!!!!!!!!!hppy xmas

SAMPLING AND SORTING

2007-10-26T09:50:00.000+08:00

My CSI PSIs winged their way out my front door to Canada yesterday. My brain is tumbling around the most recent discussions about the nature of art - especially textile art , and clutter/stash sorting. I think I need to order my thoughts first before commiting to this blog. Don't you find that everyone's thoughts, ideas and input on both these topics is valid to some extent, raises points you hadn't considered yourself and you need time to absorb, sort, rationlise and question. I guess everything boils down to pure problem solving and that's probably the main problem with the amount of information available to us today via the Internet. I find that there are so many people with so many interesting things to say and fabulous ideas to explore that I spend wa-aa-aa-y to much time scouting round the web every morning tasting honey here and there.

CSI PSIs

2007-10-16T09:56:00.000+08:00

I have been dying to post some kind of pics and, having to await the return of my camera's battery recharger, have had to resort to scanning this. It is a taster of the CSI PSI swap I am involved with at the moment - if you are reading this and haven't a clue check out: Arlee's notes at Albedo Design (see link on this page). Anyway, this is my collection of 54 little PSIs ready to separate and finish off:

(This was written yesterday, but the Blogger was refusing to upload pics, so now I can show you a sample of a completed PSI.)
I am going to provide full explanation of techniques and how tos together with the meaning of the things when I finish and post them off to Arlee. It really has not helped that I keep thinking it is a week earlier than it is. I have no reason to be aware of the day, so that is not unusual for me.
Other than that, I am working hard on the bonbonnierre for Nat's wedding - I have to make 100, so have given myself a weekly quota of 10 and am already behind! Mainly because I cannot find the right shade of green lining silk and big son having my car doesn't help matters! I am walking everywhere and my feet are suffering. We have also been doing lots of other wedding things like checking out the venue, choosing bridesmaids dresses, flowers and all those other joy things one has to arrange well in advance. It's hard when you've got two littlies with you who don't understand or particularly enjoy what you're doing!

INTERESTING POSTS IN PIPELINE

2007-10-12T08:38:00.000+08:00

PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE that a decent entry is coming. Thing is, I find just words without pictures not wholly appealing - hence awaiting son to get his shit together and unpack his suitcase to give me my camera back. Otherwise life goes on, warmer and sunnier every day (32 by tomorrow) and time to pull off the leccie blankie and haul out the cotton blanket. Also in desperate need of new shorts to cover the hideous birthmark on my thigh - gonna be tricky given this season's penchant for shorts barely covering the crotch!!

PRESENTING TODAY'S LETTER - "C"

2007-10-04T08:36:00.000+08:00

Warning!! Small bitch of the day about to happen! Went shopping with my Nat and the boy yesterday - she requiring a wedding gift (those two go to more weddings than a celebrant) plus something to wear for same (tricky 'cos she's still breastfeeding, hasn't lost her baby weight and Spring is a peculiar time of year). Anyhooooo at the point where Dylan was demanding food and drink, Nat was starving (in the way only a feeding mum can be) and Kieran was tired and grizzly and needed a bit of cuddling off to sleep. Nat goes to order our coffees, drinks and food, meantime I am scanning the cafe for a couple of seats - the place was jam-packed due to school holidays and mid-season's sales (PS WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY ABOUT?), whilst juggling Dylan's stroller, wriggling Kieran and several "diggers" (toy trucks). I spot the only vacancy is two seats on a banquette arrangement around one table, but there is a woman and her daughter at the table. Or, rather, sprawled at the table. The woman was, I guess, mid to late thirties, small, dark and well dressed and the girl, seated opposite her (obviously her daughter) was about 9 or 10. Both were plonked fair in the middle of each set of benches and had generously spread their shopping all over the remaining space - HAH! did not fool me for one moment - I knew spare seating when I saw it. So I struggle up to the woman who proceeds to ignore me staring at her from a distance of maybe a meter, while continuing her conversation with her little brat, sorry daughter. Finally she looks at me, so I say in my nicest voice, excuse me, is anyone else going to be sitting with you? She sneers back that there is no one there at the moment and I shoot back that yes, I can see that (I am not blind). I did not say the last thing of course, after all it is a rather hoi poloi type of place and I was trying my best to be pleasant. Oh I reply, would it be OK if my daughter and I share this table with you? She looks at me as if I was something slimy and rather unpleasant that had just slithered from underneath her shoe. We-e-ll, she responds, you can have the table when we are finished. Now, their order has not even arrived at the table so obviously the time frame we are discussing here is at least another 15 minutes. Like most Australians, I admit that I am prone to rather too much swearing from time to time, however there is one word that I loathe and refuse to let past my lips and I am sure everyone knows it - it starts with the letter C. That was the word that popped straight into my head. Luckily, that's where it stayed. I just flounced off saying "Please don't worry about putting yourself out, we'll find somewhere else.", thinking - it's not worth letting her know how selfish and what a bitch she is and that she has no legal right to refuse to let us sit at the table, we because if we ended up sitting with her you could just imagine how pleasant that would have been. We immediately found a lovely young chap with his little girl who waved us over to his table. I noticed that the daughter was wandering around the cafe about 30 minutes later until she spotted us and then went back to her mum to report and they left. Obviously had been sent to let us know we were permitted occupancy of madam's table. I felt like calling the girl over and telling her to tell her cow of a mother to shove the table where the sun don't shine. That's so much better - I have vented. I told Nat we need to get the tattoos on our foreheads removed (you know, the ones that say "Please ignore/be unpleasant to me. I am a nice person and I won't make a big scene.") This was after she had been ignored for 20 minutes by shop staff while buying the gift.

ARTISTIC DILEMMAS

2007-10-02T08:22:00.000+08:00

Where do you draw that line in the sand?? Yesterday seemed like an eternal struggle for me with that damned entry in the quilt comp. It seemed the thing had taken on demonic possession and refused to co-operate with me at every turn. Everything I tried with it turned out awful - I could not get things to sit straight, or alternately look artistically crooked and intentional, every colour or texture or whatever I tried looked wrong, wrong WRONG. Then, when I looked at the whole thing at the end of the day, I decided that it was NOTHING like what I had in mind that the elements did not work as a whole and try as I might I could not come up with a way to change it that a.) would work, b.) would comply with the competition rules and c.) would not take endless hours of work and/or unpicking. I almost burst into tears and wanted to take it outside and set fire to it. Instead, I went to the local hardware megastore and, being a public holiday blessed with the most glorious weather, struck every man and his dog there (which made me feel better strangely - as if I was being given the cosmic message that outdoor work was what was really intended for me that day). I purchased some bits of trellis for the climbing stuff like my passionfruit vine that is threatening to encroach the entire world, like the others that have also shot off with a magnificent burst of spring enthusiasm. I really hate when they need to be cut back so I decided to simply extend the support for some of them, including the bright ruby climbing pelargonium that is inching across my back lawn at the moment. Also got several punnets of petunias, encouraged by the "bushes" that have developed from last year's lot and a trailing snapdragon that I haven't seen before and some penstemons that I have always wanted to try.
Back to the horror of the quilt. I know this is definitely not a new thought, but I really think it's time to say, quite firmly, to myself STOP - it ain't never gonna work and you hate it therefore you are not going to do your best with it. Then, I read the rules again and noticed that they want not only a photo of the front, but the back as well and that was truly the last straw for me. I don't know about everybody else, but I rarely if ever pay any attention to the back (which I know breaks the cardinal rule of traditional quilting where the back must look as good as the front.) Now, given that the front of my quilt looks like hell in a handbag, can you imagine what the back looks like?? So, rather than distress myself any more and feel obligated to at least finish the bastard, hoping some miracle will occur and it will suddenly transform itself into the most amazing creation, it will be stopped immediately. I have decided that I am going to follow the lead of Arlee and , instead of stressing about all the UFOs I keep creating, I am going to relabel them "Components for Future Use". In fact, I might even cut out the good bits and just keep those. Whatever I do, I am definitely going to spend today being a lot more free flowing and playful. If anyone feels like letting me know about any brilliant ideas they have for dealing with unco-operative projects, please share!!!

PLOUGHING THROUGH

2007-10-01T08:24:00.000+08:00

I feel quite remiss, having not blogged for a few days. The most frustrating thing is not having my camera at hand to include pics of what I have been up to - not that it is very much. Mainly I have been working on my entry for a competition. I feel most ambivalent about the piece (camera returns to Oz shores tomorrow, fingers crossed) and will post pic ASAP. What I was trying to achieve was ridiculous, when I think about it. I tried to blend an art quilt (of a type) with smatterings of traditional styles, whilst still complying with the competition rules. Trouble is, those sorts of things end up being a huge excercise in compromise and I doubt the result is a "winner" in anyone's eyes. Of course, it may well be that I am just fed up with the sight of the damned thing and in other circumstances it would have definintely become another UFO. Competition closes in a few days, so I have to get my shit together - luckily all that's left is to quilt the thing (maybe something magical will happen in that process), measure it finally _ God let's hope it finally meets the dimensions requirements because that bit has taken me the most time - every single time I measure it I get a different answer and I am definitely not good at maths. I just want to move on to another more exciting project - or several of the thousands currently backing up in my brain.
Being Spring and delightful, I have also spent copious amounts of time in the garden - a necessary pleasure because pretty soon it gets far too damned hot to venture outdoors and I am determined not to get a tanned face this year (although the mirror tells me it's too late). Yes, it looks healthy and so on, but I am very sick of that older Australian ritual of having little bits of one's body burnt, frozen or cut off every time I see the doctor. Being a fair skinned, blonde haired blue eyed person with eyelashes and brows so fair they look invisible without makeup, and of Irish/ English extraction - I have no business even walking out the back door without sunscreen. Trouble is, as a Baby Boomer, I was encouraged to run around naked in the sun as a toddler by my mother who had a morbid fear about rickets. Apprarently rickets was rife in England post-war because the sun hardly ever shines there anyway and everyone had spent so much time inside due to the bombs. Common sense would tell you that the fact you can get about 165 times your daily requirement of Vitamin D by walking to your mailbox in Oz - but the powers that were back then had little understanding about such things.
MUst away to the sewing machine - hoping like hell to finish the competition entry today.

MUCH ADO FOR NOTHING

2007-09-24T09:13:00.000+08:00

Update on the mystery intruder! The police finally showed up after a couple of days and only when the home owner of the house broken into (only thing taken was a digital camera) used his contacts in senior management at the local station. When the uniformed officer arrived (he was really quite cute too) I was trying in vain to get Dylan to sleep. He questionned me quite closely - description, behaviour and so on. Then I got a huge lecture about security and keeping doors locked and blah blah. The final straw was when he strongly urged me to make sure I call the police IMMEDIATELY if another person, or the same weirdo, started hanging around. I just raised one eyebrow and asked him if he enjoyed being ironical. He mumbled that of course someone would come straight away if they could, but that was not always possible - reassuring isn't it - especially as the large local station is about 500 metres away from my house!!!!!!!!!

Spent whole weekend in a frenzy of cleaning up (must be Spring) - and I mean REALLY cleaning up. I even dusted and cleaned all the photos and frames, electric outlets, light switches, door frames. I chucked out in a ruthless frenzy all the garbage bags full of awful scraps (although I admit I kept spotting the odd one or two and thought - gosh that looks OK, I could do something with that - but NO, I was firm with myself). It was an ideal opportunity as the weather was great and our council is having a bulk refuse pick up this week from the verge. Then I tore into the garden, hacking into the dog bane that has gone berserk and pongs like garlic, cleaned and swept all the paving areas and to break the camel's back - attacked the horror of the storage shed and chucked all the old tins of house paint, rusted tools and bits of God knows what. I could barely move last night and my poor old broken ribs were moaning at me. But, boy - do I feel virtuous today - I figure that lets me off housework for at least a month. Also it's pissing down with rain today, so the timing was just right.

I am excited to get going on Arlee's PSI exchange and Thanks so much, babe for organizing it. Loving that theme - it's right up the alley of a person like me with a macabre sense of humour. Since I have no camera for about another week (unless idiot brain loses it in Munich) I will break this up by including a photo of my three kids - taken a few years ago, but the only recent one I have of them together. Of course, couldn't find the one I wanted, but here's my boy Steve on the left at Nat's engagement party (she's very pregnant on the left). He now dies his hair black because he hates it blonde. My girls are Nat on left without eyes (sorry, cut them off) and her cloned sister Taz on the right.

NASTY BUSINESS

2007-09-21T08:36:00.000+08:00

I will share about those little boots for y'all that is interested. I believe the pattern is on the Martha Stewart website and the original was made with felt. I used fleecy and fake fur fabrics instead and handstitched a blanket stitch edge around the outside with some yarn. I will put the link in here once I have checked that my memory is correct: http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.3a0656639de62ad593598e10d373a0a0/?vgnextoid=d74cf3fb453b1110VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&autonomy_kw=felt%20baby%20boots&rsc=ns2006_m22 (Not so bad for an old lady!)

There will be no photos for a while as my giant son borrowed my camera, much to my trepidation. Hence have been very teary deary - especially after yesterday. Remember my strangeness in the night with the handprint on my mirror? Prior to that the weirdo in my kitchen - who, by the by, reappeared a couple of weeks ago "sheltering" in my carport from the pelting rain and I shocked the life out of myself by getting quite angry at him and telling him to get off my property or I would call the police. Luckily he did!
Well, yesterday my next door neighbour knocked on my door to let me know that she had just spotted a bloke go into our communal bin area (I live in a quadruplex setup, but the homes are separate - no common walls), climb up on a bin, look furtively around and jump over the wall into the garage of the house directly in front of her (owners were out). This was about 2p.m. She is a young mum about same age as my Nat (they are close friends) with two littlies same age as my grandsons (I asked them once if they actually rang each other up to see if they were going to have sex that night because the kids are only days apart). Nat thinks I am a disgusting old woman. I digress. Without really thinking of the consequences, we marched up the driveway and she called out the name of the man who lives in the house. Oh, PS he had left his red bicycle resting on the wall. He came out of the house via the sliding glass door and said that Pete (the homeowner) was out, but would be back in a couple of minutes. She asked who he was and what he was doing there and he said Mike (yeah, sure) and he had come to do a few jobs for Pete, but he had forgotten to leave a key out. All seemed very suss to us, as usually this older couple have the same handyman all the time, plus this dude only had a backpack. So I said quite loudly that we would see if our other male neighbour was home and if he had Pete's mobile number so we could check. We went to the other neighbour, but the husband was not home, so we are standing out in the sunny driveway telling his pregnant wife the story, when the dude comes riding up the driveway and out the gate. We asked where he was going and he said we were a bunch of fucking busybodies and he was just going to buy a soft drink at the shop. Then he proceeded off in the wrong direction and my neighbour called after him that we were calling the cops. He told us to go fucking right ahead and do that - which we did. Needless to say, the cops still have not bothered to turn up and it has now been almost a day. The old couple did not get home til quite late and I only managed to catch her this morning to fill her in (much to her horror). I also rang my husband to find out what the situation was re the money for the security improvements and told him what had happened. He said "Well, you'll just have to be careful. I have only just put in the application." He has had it for 2 weeks. Thank you so much - typically unhelpful I might add. I used to be the one who checked out the bumps in the night and once even surprised an intruder hiding in our backyard!! Luckily I am a pretty aggro person when I get shocked like that. Any way, I am now going to go do some lovely gardening with my two babies coming over and try to not obsess - but I have to admit it has made me a total nervous wreck!

THE SWEETEST THINGS

2007-09-20T09:22:00.000+08:00

These are some cute little boots I had made for my newest grandson, Kieran. I had to put a little hidden extra stitch in as he kept kicking them off and soon it will be too warm for him to wear them! Plus he already has ginormous feet - typical Aussie plates.

This entry might be a tad baby oriented, but who cares - not me. I had Dylan yesterday and it struck me how imaginative and freely exploring is the mind of a child ( of 2 and a half). He keeps a gazillion trucks at my house and had decided to move all of them outside onto the paved area, plus all the stupid plastic trees that don't stand up properly, the cardboard roads that don't fit so well, the tiny fence areas that also fall over. Anyway, having arranged his little "site", he demanded that "Midgie get down and play with the trucks" and of course no excuse like "Midgie is old and can't get down there" was acceptable. So there I am in my extremely attractive and hideously expensive compression stockings (long story) kneeling on my arthritic knees and moving the trucks around. He, of course, knows the names of all of them - dump trucks, garbage trucks, tractors, forklifts, graders, petrol tankers, concrete mixers, etc, etc. So I am doing boring stuff like backing them around the trees and driving them to the parking lot. He, on the other hand, is putting the tiny concrete mixer onto the forklift tray and lifting it up to the top of the crane, where it sits. I don't need to say anything else, except there's a lesson for us all in this.

Feeling very anxious today as my son is flying out to Munich for the Beer Festival. Everyone says don't worry, he's a big boy (25) and my response is - don't forget I went there myself at much the same age and that's probably worrying me even more. I admit I get a bit funny when it comes to my son and my grandsons - probably because my first son was taken from me. I have horrible visions of kidnapping, abuse, death, bashings and so on that keep forcing their way into my head. I will be much relieved for many reasons when he gets back home.

THE BIG BLACK MONSTER

2007-09-18T07:45:00.000+08:00

The big black monster leapt out from around the corner of my house on Saturday, hence I have done nothing but fight the urge to give in to the beast for three and a half days now. I think I am emerging cautiously. Thank God it's Spring and the days are getting longer and warmer. I have concentrated, instead on the forthcoming wedding arrangements for my daughter and minding my grandbabies, hoping that I can at least rediscover joy in those glorious things.

UNNECESSARY RUDENESS

2007-09-13T07:59:00.000+08:00

Before we went shopping yesterday, I did a quick couple of experiments. For the blueish green one, I took a nappy liner and wetted it. Then i put random drops of that refill ink for the printer on it, added a sprinkle of salt crystals and sprayed the whole lot with more water. By the time I got home, it had attained this quite funky look and I am going to try a few rusted bits on there (of which there are many in my shed). For the hessian, first I sprayed it with this old can of gold paint from the shed that turned out too subtle to be seen. then I took some gold leaf paint and freehanded some leaf shapes. (Put glasses on afterwards and read this on the bottle: Warning: Cancer agent based on experimental data. Oh joy!! Then I riffled thru my makeup and found some old eyeshadows and blushes I have never used, so rubbed them into the hessian with baby wipes. So far, so good.
The real purpose of my blog this morning is to have a right royal bitch about what happened to me yesterday. Nat had some birthday money from her dad and wanted to buy some loose tops as she is still feeding baby Kieran and has not lost all her baby weight. So we go to this rather flash shopping mall and there is a store there that sells very up to the minute stuff (made in Asia) and incredibly cheap. She picks out about a million tops to try on, while I am wandering around with an eye on Dylan and trying to resist all the amazing bargains. (I didn't - ended up with a pair of shoes in the new wedge toe bright blue, a really long but light sweater in cobalt blue and another purple, grey and blue top and a large silver bag. Each item cost about $10). So, little Miss Typical Virgo is in the change room trying to find perfection in all these articles, meanwhile I am attempting to try the shoes on. Took off my boots and Dylan wanted his off too, so he could try mine on and then the pairs I was rejecting as well. At that time, bubs decides to cry in the stroller because he is starving, so I picked him up and soothed him as Dylan disappears into the display window to remove the shoes off the manequin. Realising that it was physically impossible for me to put on and rezip my boots and put Dylans back on without sitting down, I scanned around and found the only seat in the store - a semi-circular couch thing occupied by an old lady and a little girl of about 8. Right, I thought, surely that little girl could give me her seat for a couple of minutes while I juggle all these shoes. So battle up there with the stroller full of purchases, boots and shoes, Dylan and bub in my arms. I asked little girl very nicely if she would mind letting me sit for a few moments while I put my boots on. Ungraciously she got up and I sat. Meanwhile Dylan walked into all the bags that the old lady had at her feet, by accident. You could not see what was inside the bags, but she said "Oh don't do that, there are plants in there." Could not help it, so I said "Sorry, he's only 2 and obviously couldn't see the plants." She hrrrmphed. Then the old bitch said to the little girl "You're not feeling well are you sweetie, maybe you could squeeze in next to me." L G shook her head and looked longingly at my position. I said (very slowly and calmly) "Obviously she's well enough to come shopping. Anyway, like I said, I just want to get my shoes on and I am nearly done so she can have her seat back. I'll just walk around with this very hungry baby and manage this energetic two year old whilst looking after the stroller and all these parcels. I know appearances can be deceptive but I will be fine with my fractured vertebrae, newly broken ribs, the two vertebrae in the throes of crumbling and all the old breaks from the 30 broken ribs I have had in the last 3 years." And I got up and walked away. I heard the old bat say to her friend "I thought she was their mother." Yes, I do get that quite a bit and my poor daughter gets asked to show ID to buy scratchies (you have to be 16!!!), so we are a youngish looking lot. Nevertheless, I remember many a time being heavily pregnant and carrying a toddler on public transport where no one gave up their seat. And the really sad part about this? I hate to criticize my own sex, but it is ALWAYS women that behave so badly in my experience. That is off my chest now, I feel better.

SPEAKING BRIEFLY

2007-09-12T09:15:00.001+08:00

Short and sweet today. Off shopping with my Nat and the babies. I love doing that with her and even tho I have no money I am sure I can manage a way to splash my credit card out on some foolishness or other (the fools recently gave me an automatic limit increase!!).

Distractions from Tasks on Hand!!

2007-09-11T09:50:00.000+08:00

Ta- daaaa! The little dresses are all finished. Now I have to put them in their little windows. I have made them some little hangers as well. Yesterday was SUCH beautiful weather (23 degrees) that I could not
justify spending time inside. Instead, went for long walks, after spending far too much time on the computer roaming around in cyberspace checking out other blogs so I can get me a list of ones I love. Wow - there is so much talent out there.

I love walking around thinking about my work. So many ideas come and I probably should carry a notebook. Then I could be sketching all the wild fresias in the parks and people's lawns. Or jotting down plans for my bottlesbrush on hessian wallhanging. Instead, I just wander along in a dream, as per usual. Also, I had to stop into the local charity shop to buy a belt as my jeans kept falling down on my walk (how embarassing). Sadly, I am rather boy shaped and lack hips. My kids have occasionally walked in on me with said jeans around my ankles because I have been cooking or something and have just let them fall. I am a constant source of embarassment to them - I know that. They frequently threaten to have me put down if I get any more eccentric. That reminds me, I went up to the local shopping centre on Saturday, intending to buy some fairy lights (plain) for my little lanterns. Of course, I am a month too early as the shop there that sells all kinds of really, really cheap crap only had the lovely REALLY tacky stuff leftover from last year. I find, though that this kind of shop is such a nasty temptatation if you really riffle thru them you can come across some amazing little (tacky) treasures. So, I came home with a gorgeous battery operated lava lamp (for my grandson I keep saying, but no one believes me), a cellotape dispenser (with 3 rolls of cello), a set of plastic coasters in various bright colours that look like Mr Men people made out of jelly and they join into a circle by linking hands jigsaw style and finally a great umbrella with photo images of a leopard family. All this for less than $20!!!!!!!!!!! If anyone can answer these totally unrelated questions for me, I would be most grateful. 1. Buying fabric online - how reliable? what is the quality like? I am thinking about silk mainly. 2. Buying secondhand books from Amazon? Has anyone had any experience and would you recommend it?

Strangeness in the Night

2007-09-08T09:01:00.000+08:00

WHY IS THERE A HANDPRINT ON MY BATHROOM MIRROR?? I saw it there this morning when I got up. At first I thought that I had put it there myself and racked my brains for when and why the hell I would have done that. Perhaps (and this is still an option) I got up in the night and put it there whilst still asleep???? Stupidly, I put my own hand on top of it to see if it was the same size - BUT, here's the really scary bit, it was bigger than mine and also I had to reach a bit to put my hand up there. Apart from the dog (and it sure don't look like one of hers!), I live alone, so I am just about crying with scaredness this morning. I know that I left my sliding door screen unlocked because I was getting sick of the dog barking at 2 a.m. to go out for a pee, so I am silly for doing that. I know when I tell my great big huge hulk of a son, he is going to get very cross about that. What concerns me is that I have had a weirdo intruder a couple of times about 6 weeks ago (same dude each time). I just felt that he was not the full quid, you know, a shovel short of a load. Either that or he was on some serious drugs. Young (everyone is to me), filthy dirty and shabby clothes, tall and rangy with dark curly hair. I never bothered to report it to the cops because I hardly felt they were going to put out a special BOLO, particularly as he left when I demanded he do so - informing him that the dog was old, unpredictable and inclined to be vicious.

The other thing going on in my house has more obvious

explanations. I know what those little lanterns have

been doing at night!

Dirty little buggers.

I had such fun yesterday doing some stuff for the quilt I am going to enter in the competition. I used to love that story about the Shoemaker and the Elves and it so reminded me of that! The really great thing about making these 5" by 3" clothes is that they aren't ever going to be worn and don't have to fit any body parts, so a hell of a lot of cheating can go on (e.g. just ironing the little shoulder straps, instead of sewing them which I tried but the machine kept eating them). There's also an awful lot of swears flying through the air, but over all great fun! I have sketched out six "frocks" so far and need nine and am so encouraged by the relative easiness of the task that I am going to lash out on a fashion mag this morning and find smore.

SENILITY

2007-09-07T08:36:00.000+08:00

I made up some little lantern covers for the fairy lights. Currently they look a bit like witches hats, but cute!!! This looks like having potential, but I am going to shelve the nappy thing for a while, it just aint right. I will mull upon it.

Also worked like a veritable demon on Nat's quilt and it is now fully pieced on top with an edging ready to attach. (I wanted to see how it would go, cos it really did need at least a tiny dab of red in there somewhere.) It's actually black and white, but the colour is kinda bluish grey and try as I could, I was unable to fix it with Picasa - making it b&w just eliminates the red touches. It is also humungous, over 6 feet long and 5 and a half wide. It is going to be a right bastard to quilt. Therefore mostly it is going to be very simply in the ditch, with some free motion on the plain borders if I get the energy.

We had a wedding meeting of the parents last night, mainly to discuss the financials. (Don't know why I was there, I am definitely not financial, but I have promised Nat I will pay for her dress with some of the super money I should get soon.) Every time I see my husband, I am convinced that he is getting more and more senile. He asked Nat if they HAD SET A DATE yet?????????

Du-u-u-u-uh!That was only done last Christmas and, as she pointed out, every single time he has spoken to her since then, he has asked the same question and been given the same answer. It's not a difficult date to remember - 26 April, the day after our Anzac Day public holiday. I am so glad he and I are apart, I remember how much it used to annoy me that he was either never paying attention or definitely senile and I probably would have put a meataxe thru his head by now.

I have to stop as I feel myself entering dangerous territory and already I have a migraine looming large. Besides, to enumerate his many problems is counterproductive, not my problem any more and would take me all day (make that all year).

STUPIDITY

2007-09-06T08:39:00.000+08:00

Here's something that is not a good idea. Work non-stop on a project all day long, skip all meals and breaks and forget even to smoke, and when every fiber of your body is screeching at you to just stop - just clench your teeth tightly and tell yourself that your age is just a state of mind and, yes you can still work well into the night.

WHAT TO ACHIEVE THRU A PROCESS OF NEGLECT

2007-09-05T07:37:00.000+08:00

Got to have my own car for a whole day yesterday!!!!! Consequently, had to flit all over the joint like a crazed fly. Still managed to spend an obscene amount of money that I don't have (that credit card aint never gonna go down) on yet more stash. My excuse is that I want to enter a quilt competition at the store I bought from. I have never done so before, as I lack self confidence, but the prize is a trip to Houston for the International Quilt Festival and I have been yearning to visit the States since forever. Not sure how this will go, as I am definitely planning an arty quilt and this seems like a pretty traditional organization, but the comp rules could not be more open with no "theme" or stuff. I don't care. I have got an idea and I want to run with it anyway, plus I did get some really interesting stuff, including hessian that I am going to use as a simple painted background for my bottlebrushes when I get round to them.

Outcomes of experimentation with the nappies is less than thrilling. Made up a new lot the day afore yesterday, using lots less water and I ripped up and threw in all the papery bits of the nappy. It still has not set either. I am having more promising results with painting the first lot of goop onto the chicken bags. First coat seemed to dry, so I put another one on last night. I might try another bag with the thicker lot and see how that comes out. I got more thread to finish my vase cover and I did a bit more work on Nat's quilt yesterday. It is almost ready for assemblage so I can give you a photo. I also had to fit in a couple of chores for Luv over the weekend - remaking a "bargain" dressing gown she got (a black fleecy job with leopard print collar and cuffs) - WHAT A NIGHTMARE, plus I made her three pillowslips for an odd shaped cushion for her son. A person is coming to her house today who helps organize the clutter in people's homes. That will be a fascinating outcome, because I have really never seen anyone with so much extraneous STUFF. She even keeps tins of mushy peas in her pantry, because a neighbour of hers feeds them to her family and once she ran out and asked Luv if she happened to have any (that's rather like asking anyone if they happen to have a spare set of frog's braces). Since then, she's always stocked them - Christ knows where she buys them???????

I decided (it's later today, had to sing "Happy Day" to my Nat with cake) to put the thicker goop on the bag and paint on it, added some glitter and threw some salt crystals in for good measure:

Hmmmmmmm???? Will look at it tomorra. Too buggered now, having spent a saltmine of a day chained to the sewing machine, determined to get thru the bulk of Nat's quilt before I start any more new experiments or fun stuff like that (I call it my penance.)

Now, I am not bragging - actually, yes I am bragging - get an eyeful of my petunias that I planted in the garden 12 months ago. I have no idea what the secret is. Perth has about the crappiest soil in the world, it's little more than beach sand. The only "special" thing I do to them is to obsessively pluck of the deadies when I go outside for a smoke. Which is often. Back to the saltmines.

ALL ABOUT THE PROCESS, NOT THE VOMIT - SORRY, PRODUCT

2007-09-03T08:38:00.000+08:00

Rightio then! Arlee, yes that is me - the blonde bimbo. The female one anyway. I decided I should put a photo of me on my site and I did. It is a wee bit old and shows me with shorter and artificially darker hair but still the same maniacal grin. It was, I believe, Christmas Day 2005. I have resisted the temptation to clean/dispose of my ironing board cover, but have had quite a few thoughts about combining that effect and the chicken bag musings. I found the most satisfying thing is to burn the bag, because the white paper totally vanishes and the foil is left. Led me to think - that would make it so suitable as the inside of a light cover as it seems like its fireproof. So, started pondering about making little lantern covers from the bags for strings of fairy lights. I thought, paint the outside paper bit, make into an interesting shape (not just boring old circular) and maybe do some "snowflake" cut-out thingies in the paper like we did at school. Then I discovered quite a brilliant extension of the whole concept as a result of failed (so far) experimentation with disposable nappy interiors. What I had done, was rip up all the fluffy bits into a saucepan with all the polymer crystal thingies in there and added water. I found that 2.1 litres (about 7 pints) swells up so-o-o-o-o-o much I had to stop, but reckon you could keep on going almost ad inifinitum. I poured a glob of purple acrylic paint in, stirred and dumped half of it into a baking sheet lined pan. The other half I kept whiteish and put into a bowl (thinking of shaping into beads later). Put those in the sun for a day and a half of very warm weather. Nothing set! It was all still a globby liquidy stuff, so I ripped up shreds of the burnt off foil from the chicken bags and decided to mix in some white glue. Had to use 125 grams per half lot (I think that equates to 8oz(???) per nappy. Mixed thoroughly and now its sat again in very warm weather (tho had to bring it inside at night because insects kept committing hari kari in the vessels). STILL not set!!!!

However, then I thought, hmmnnnnn? This could be applied as a coating to the outside of the lantern things and painted over because the crystals look amazing under paint. Hope you can see from these:Then I thought that if this works, I might even try a proper lampshade!!!! Oh my God I feel totally inspired! Plus, of course, I will have to destroy another disposable nappy and use way less water with the glue from the outset (must re-stock on that) to see if I can make a sheet of ppapery stuff and maybe some beady things. Keeping u posted!

FINISHED OR NEARLY DONE

2007-09-01T10:40:00.000+08:00

Today is September 1, and fittingly it's a PEACH of a day. Sun shining, birds twittering, flowers blooming, temp in mid 20's (maybe 70+???). So great, isn't it to get those windows open. Now, what have I been doing? Yesterday, I decided that my floor (tiled) had so many bits of thread, balls of fluff, scraps of fabric etc that I really HAD to get out the vaccuum cleaner and give it a run. I heard a couple of loud pops and realised that I had broken a couple of ribs in my enthusiasm. Poop! I don't bother with X-rays any more, having had between 20 and 30 broken ribs in the last 3 years, I think I know what has happened and there's nothing they can do about it except tell me to expect 6 weeks for it to heal, a lot of agony doing anything including breathing and what crappy bones I have got. For that I get another little dose of radiation and a bill. No thank you. Only thing is, I rail and rant against this limitation on my mobility. Nevertheless, I did get a few things underway. Like:

It is going to be a vase cover thingy. I made a big bit of created fabric by fusing little scrappy bits between two layers of crinkled sheer and fashioned them into squarish shapes (not straight edged, wavy). Then, I thought I would try to link them into diamonds with metallic satin stitch. Alas, I ran out of said thread (Gutterman, which is great stuff but poor value for money for the amount on the reel). Having no vehicle as my son has requisitioned it, I am kinda stuck at the moment, but I hope the effect can be gained and let's hope it works out! (As you can see, I am at the tricky part.) The vase has bothered me for a while. It was just a cheapy, but i liked the blue fluted shape at the top and the overall form of it. There's always been something unidentifiable about it, tho, that seems to scream, "Yes, I look OK, but I'm still just a cheap slut."

Then I played with my chicken bag, as Arlee suggested. Let me just say, I have learned quite a bit. For a start, setting it on fire works well (plus it satisfies the pyromaniac inside). It chars the outside white paper, leaving a thin film of silver stuff that I am trying to make work like that foiling effect. One of my earlier projects of the day was to rip up a disposable nappy and take out the fluffy innards (it's got water absorbing crystals in it). I threw some acrylic paint on it and it came out great because there were still tiny bits of crystals on it and they looked cool. Unfortunately, not one to leave well enough alone, I thought I might try to foil it as well. I was smart enough to use baking paper on top of it to protect my iron - BUT, forgot that the back of the nappy was PLASTIC. I can just leave it there, can't I?? In case you cannot imagine it, this is what my ironing board looks like now:

Guess what I have to do today? I did get further inspiration about the fluffy stuff and if it works I will post it on here.

The only other thing I can claim to have achieved yesterday was to find the bargain of the century (maybe) in the form of a toy "building site" complete with many different kinds of trucks and machines. I set it up for Dylan's visit today and he will just love it. A couple of comments, though - obviously made in a non-English speaking country as the bit where the trucks come in is called the "Enterance" and the road pieces are made of thin card in jigsaw style that don't really fit together all that well, so I can see someone cracking the shits about that! I thought I might scrabble around for a piece of firm board and paint out the little scene for him instead.

Nat and Daniel (her fiance) are dropping him off soon on their way to the footy. I have a free ticket if I wanted to go, but frankly it's been a sad enough week and I don't know if I can cope with saying goodbye to the longest serving, most amazing coach my team has ever had. Goodbye Sheeds, you're a legend! Plus, James Hird, possibly the greatest Bomber to pull on a pair of boots, courageous and inspirational captain and all round great man and father to those beautiful children. At least I have this to remember him by. (Some nasty people have suggested he is my secret son!) Gonna miss you Hirdy.

ARE WE STILL THE SAME?

2007-08-31T07:35:00.000+08:00

This is going to be quite a self-indulgent posting and I am not apologizing about that. I am finding this journalling process very cathartic and helpful to my chronic depressive state. Went shopping with my two daughters yesterday, Nat and Taz (Tarynne - but us Aussies have a horrible prediliction for shortening everyone's name, and often adding and O at the end). Accompanied, of course, by the two most beautiful children in the universe, my grandsons Dylan and Kieran (soon to be known as Dyl and Kier, or Dylo and Kiero and yes, I did point that out to their mother, but the young already know everything). Now, getting to the nub of this tale, my youngest, Taz casually informed me that :"Oh, by the way, Mum, did you know a Sue B.? Well she died." This woman was only my best friend in high school and we frequented each others homes like a bad smell between the ages of 14 and 18. Poor old Taz had no idea of course, how would she as we have since moved half a world away and I have only kept infrequent contact with Susan on the very rare occasion I have gone back to Canberra for a visit. These are usually solo trips as the family are quite scornful about the place (in the usual way of young people), nothing to do there, it's boring, it isn't a real city etc etc. So my immediately bursting into a flood of tears must have shocked the life out of her, not to mention Dylan next to me in his car seat, who tried to distract me by talking about trucks.
Last night, I was almost sleepless because, when something like that happens to you, not only does your own mortality hit you, but you keep revisiting those times you spent together. Susan was affectionately known as Sue-boo (highly original) and she was the second youngest of eight children. Her family were warm and kind and ALWAYS laughing. There was a large group of about 10 girls who hung out together (all girl Catholic high) and we were all of the same type. Highly amused by anything and everything, including plots to kill off some of the ancient nuns who "taught" us, even tho they should have been permanently posted to St Aloysius Home for Nun Senility. We had a music teacher we called Fang, because she had rather unfotunate eye teeth. We all hated music and usually waited til she sat at her piano to talk and laugh instead of singing (actually,Susan sang, because she was a bit of a goodie two-shoes in front of the nuns). She would turn around, instantly pick out the offenders and they would spend the rest of the lesson standing at the back of the room (laughing quietly). It took ages for us to discover that she could easily see us all in the reflection of that highly polished piano. Susan wanted to be a "good" girl, but we were determined to sabotage that goal, so we would convince her to skip weekly Mass and join us smoking on the sports bleachers (until we got caught and suspended) or nick out of the last class of the day and walk into the nearby city. She was always petrified, but laughing with the rest of us us we hoiked our ugly skirts up to our thighs, abandoned our compulsory hats and gloves and headed for the nearest ladies room to smother ourselves with truckloads of makeup that did little or nothing for our fresh young faces. They were such innocently naughty days - I mean we didn't do anything really bad - unlike the girl who had been expelled from the Church of England Grammar who was a compulsive shoplifter, even tho her family was wealthy. She tried to ally herself with us, but quickly found out that we did have our limits and weren't in her league. I recall that the only moment of sobriety in my senior high school years was attending the funeral of a classmate who had been tragically decapitated whilst out in a car with her boyfriend. It seems just a blur now, but I can still see the boy at the funeral (God, we were all only 17) with his arm in a cast and his face a sickly shade of white.
Susan married straight out of high school and straight away had 5 children. She and her husband had their struggles, of course as you do in the early years, but they always seemed to be happy and well matched. Imagine her shock when he told her after 25 years that he was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce. She told me she never saw it coming, God bless her for the naive and trusting sould she was. Shortly after that, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I saw her about, I think, 5 years ago just after the big bushfires in Canberra when we had dinner with one of our other closest friends, Debbie. Sue had had chemo and radiotherapy and her hair had just started to grow back. She told us that the doctors had given her a reasonably positive prognosis, but every now and then, she has popped into my head. Of course I feel extremely guilty about not keeping in contact and I won't make excuses about that, except to say that we all become so consumed with the various paths our lives take as we get older, that it becomes harder and harder to keep all the balls in the air at once. (For me, anyway, that is true. I find that I can't even finish a novel - let alone a project since the depression splatted on top of me. Or maybe it's a side effect of the morphine?)
So - plan for the day is to aggressively launch myself at my art and hopefully have something to show at days end. It was so lovely to have Dylan yesterday afternoon even though he's still recuperative after a bad bout of chest infection. His endless chatter is distracting and so comforting. I get to have him again tomorrow from lunchtime to the next morning and that really is something to look forward to. So, while I might in some way envy my friend that she has made the passage to a better life(don't be scared folks it's only the big black beast that talks like that), how could I possibly go anywhere that my beautiful kids and my little angels are not?

LUV

2007-08-30T08:05:00.000+08:00

I have a friend. (Not just one!) She is such a sweetheart and she punctuates her conversation reularly with the word "luv" (referring to the co-conversant). My kids call her Luv and she is so eccentric, but the great thing is that she is fully able to laugh at herself - a very typically Aussie trait. I went to her house for lunch with a couple of other pals yesterday. The thing about Luv is that she has a bit of an addiction and its a strange one. She cannot resist buying all sorts of crap - mainly because it is bargain priced. Her cupboards and every nook and cranny are groaning with all sorts of goodies - mostly never been used, still in the packaging. Like, sheets, towels, bedding of all types, teatowels, sewing notions (cottons, zips, buttons,etc - but she cannot sew!) She has huge boxes of catering size clingfilm, baking paper, foil etc. She has every conceivable type of mustard you could think of, every kind of salt, soup and on and on. She has clothes for the whole family that have never had the tags and boxes removed, like the 25 men's ties I saw draped on her lounge chair. You never, ever leave her house empty handed because she is constantly giving you things she thinks you need. Like clothes. I cannot count the things she has given to me, some never worn, that she thinks I can alter to my size and make trendy things from. Yesterday she gave me 10 unopened packets of pantyhose!!!! Some would be over 15 years old. The classic, though, was the 120 chicken bags she produced. Even she admits it was a bit odd to buy this lot! You may know them, they are white paper bags outside and foil inside and shops use them to sell cooked chickens in. I took one to play with as there MUST be a way to either utilize them or make them into something wonderful. I'm not so great at the paper arts so SUGGESTIONS would be gratefully received.
That's what I leave u with today as I woke with a dreaded migraine (took my magic pill so it's lifting slightly) and I am going shopping with both my girls and my grandsons this morning to my favourite shopping centre.

Dog Farts!!!

2007-08-29T09:36:00.000+08:00

My poor old dog Kahluah is the victim of my attempts to economize on the groceries by purchasing store brand dried dog bits to go with her evening bone. Her flatulence would eliminate the population of a small African nation. I finally figured it out yesterday when I sat at the computer to work and was almost asphyxiated with noxious gas filling the room. She hates to sit near me when she is guilty of such crimes and promptly plonked herself in my bedroom. When I entered that room later and was again assailed by the offending pong, I had that "aha" moment of realizing who was the offender (let's face it, not a difficult deduction given there are only two of us in this house).

My son Steve rang me to ask me the make and model of my car. A little alarming, as he has been using it exclusively for the last 3 weeks! He explained, to my relief, that he had buggered one of my tyres and was phone shopping for a new one. This leads into my explanation of my two hour excursion by bus and train to my daughter Nat's house which is normally a 10 minute drive away. The main problem with our public transport system, as I see it and I am a huge fan of the concept IN PRINCIPLE, is that bus drivers seem to have a rather offhand attitude to timetabling. This attitude permits them to fly past your bus stop 6 minutes early, because it is a less busy time, and totally ignore your flailing attempts to hail them from across the road while you ponder the value of your life versus plunging headlong through the stream of peak hour traffic flashing past. I should explain that the bus in question was travelling towards the outer suburbs, not the city and presumably he was fully focused on the meat pie awaiting him at the depot for morning tea.

Glad I vented all that. Needless to say, my whole day disappeared down the gurgler, because I was so exhausted when the excercise was REPEATED at the train station (I even contemplated that it would have been quicker to walk, except for the Scottish drizzle and wind). By the time I got back home, I needed a Nanna nap!!! The day wasn't a complete waste tho, as I bought a copy of Paper, Cloth and Scissors magazine that I had not seen before (always much grist in that little jewel) and saw my divine grandsons Dylan and Kieran. Oh yeah and I spun a web (but it needs improvement.

WEIRDNESS IS ALL AROUND

2007-08-27T06:17:00.000+08:00

Last night I was lying in bed remembering the weirdness of something I saw on

Saturday on the noticeboard at the local shopping centre. It was a handwritten note that remarked "Found - deased cat.....", went on to name location of aforesaid dead pussy, described the dearly departed and requested that the owner come and collect it. Now, I don't know if it's just me and my strange sense of humour, but I frequently find myself coming across such peculiarities in life and proceed to make up little stories about them, based on certain deductions I like to make from the evidence.

In this case, I imagine the writer, a frail old woman well into her 90s (handwriting wobbly, but typically flowery style of that vintage), digging up her fresias or winter irises (because they are finished now) and coming across -----smelly dead old cat!! I can relate so much to this poor old thing because I clearly remember the day I came across the four paws of our old cat poking up stiffly through the ivy next to the letter box on a warm spring afternoon (and boy, was she whiffy).

Then, I ask myself a la Columbo, did she feel angry, cross or was she upset and sad for the owners of moggy???????????Is that why she grabbed her walker and shuffled down to post her notice straight away? Yes, it's a real puzzler. I feel that she was more sad than irate. I would guess she has her own little Socks and thinks empathetically (she is a woman after all) about how sad she would be if he vanished one day and finished up in someone's front border.

Then, the bleeding obvious question I asked myself - Where the hell is she keeping the body until someone claims it? It wouldn't surprise me if there's a suspicious parcel wrapped in Clingfilm in her humungous chest freezer in the garage. Actually, given her age and the fact that Pussy's owners are most unlikely to ever show up and admit to the burial, I wonder if she has forgotten what that parcel is? I can imagine her opening up the door of the freezer around Christmas time, picking up the frost enshrouded lump and wondering what the...??? Really, let's not go there!

What did I do yesterday (Sunday)? Think, think.. oh, yeah, vacced all the crap off the floor, put a few things away and made some laundry bags up for a friend. You know the kind you put your smalls into and then into machine. She had given me some bits of net and stuff to do it weeks ago and really, they are only 10 minute jobs, but I had been procrastinating to hell and back about doing them, all the time thinking about the 789560 other projects either swimming lazily in my brain or already half started and put away so carefully that I possibly will only ever come across them one mad day when I go beresk and clean out all the cupboards.

I did make an attempt a copying a bottlebrush flower. Now I am going to try again to put the photo down here (I have been reading the help thingy and I think I can do this), So if (NO<>

YESTERDAY.....

2007-08-26T08:51:00.000+08:00

I wanted to journal so much yesterday, but resisted the temptation and boy, I'm glad I did!!!! Still haven't finished the profile section.... add to eternal procrastination list/ just do it?? Yesterday was a BAD BAD day. Woke at 4 a.m. with screeching pain in back and could not get comfortable, but was so.o.o.o.o. tired, so tossed and turned until I figured it must be after 6 a.m. Well, it was. It was 6:01. Then, and I know all you chronic sufferers of depression will empathize, spent most of morning telling myself not to kill myself. You know how it goes - grit teeth, don't kill yourself, don't kill yourself. Sometimes every 10 minutes and sometimes every 10 seconds. Gave myself a good mental ticking off and decided to mindnumbingly work on my daughter's quilt which is very traditional, black and white pieced and OK, but not much room for creativity in my book. Also, found I had adapted an old song (I think by Ray Brown and the Whispers - God I was in love with Ray Brown in my youth). It went like this (my version):

Depression - torments my heart

Depression - tears me apart

Depression!

Why torture me?

I've a feeling that the original word was Suspicion. Do you think I could get it out of my brain?Then, thought no - going to finish off the ATCs I want to swap with my newest blog buddy Arlee. Which reminds me, go to her brilliant site and read EVERYTHING - she is just the best!!! Twere she who inspired me to start my own blog. Here's the link : http://arleebarr.squarespace.com/designjournal/ . To my total incredulity (is that right??) I finished them and she likes two. Here is the one remaining if anyone else wants a swap, the pic is up the top (dunno how that happened, but I will try to fix the next one (still learning). As my eldest daughter, Nat, is getting married next April and I have foolishly offered to create the bonbonniere, I decided to fiddle with that idea. I thought, use her theme colours - pale pink, blue, violet and green and make little beach basket things by weaving fabric strips in those colours and fusing onto interfacing, cut out pattern etc. They will be filled with tiny seashells and a coupla handmade chockies. To cut an extremely long and most painful story short, I ended up with a nice result but hardly worth all the time and effort and farting around - bearing in mind I need about 60 of the little buggers! Will try to put the appropriate photo HERE: Do you know what, I cannot do this just now, it is making me crazy - so look at the left hand side at the top!!!! I will definitely check out how to do it and practice tomorrow. I am playing around with making bottlebrush type of flowers and the prototype should be ready soon - BUT FIRST I HAVE TO GET OFF THIS GODDAMNED COMPUTER!!!!! The rest of my day is going to involve that quilt for Nat come hell or high water!

Hello hello hello

2007-08-24T17:04:00.000+08:00

Hello World

This is my journal, day One. I am going to seriously try to give this a go and post as often as I can. I will spend time over the next few days writing a bit about myself. Primarily, I want to use this journal as a way to explore textile art which is a bit of a passion for me, even though I am almost completely self taught, a relative newcomer and consider I have lots and lots to learn - even at the advanced age of 57! Well, feeling as if I have dipped my toe in the water now, I might just see how I go at adding some photos I took today as I walked to the shopping centre. I live in Western Australia and I think it is safe to say that we are embarking on Spring even though it is technically still Winter (God I hate Winter). Here goes - well bit of a small boo boo, I added same pic twice, but at least I get it now. Aren't the bottlebrush great. I'm mentally wrestling with reproducing them, sort of along the lines of making fringing I'm currently thinking.

Hoping to see my daughter Nat and her eldest son, Dylan (2) tomorrow as they are both unwell and on antibiotics. I am such a sooky la la when it comes to my grandsons, I cry when they are upset or sick! Kids have a remarkable ability to get so so sick so quickly and then bounce back twice as fast with twice as much energy, but I guess a lot of recent publicity in Perth about littlies dieing with flu complications this year has made me quite a worry wart. As Scarlett says, though, tomorrow is another day ..........