I gave you a sidelong look at this one a little while ago, and here it is flat and fully visible. It will be published in Australian Patchwork & Quilting magazine vol 17 no 1, which will be out in a couple of months (I don't normally blog quilts ahead like this when they're going to be published, but this has just been on public display for several days to the many many people who come through the doors of the Sydney Quilt Show...). It's not a large quilt, but one for wall display. Love those blue repro fabrics - I bought some of them in Goulburn a while ago, at a sweet little quilt shop there, and had wanted to play with them for a while.
It may acquire some friends...
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Quilt: The More Things Change: Family Tree
This is one of the three quilts I had on display at this year's Sydney Quilt Show. It's part of the Looking Forward, Looking Back challenge currently touring Australia for two years (The Quilters' Guild of NSW loans the challenge collection to various galleries and other places during that time, then you get your quilt back).
This one combines old blocks (recut to become squares) with new reproduction fabric in the sashings, and old green buttons on the cornerstones. On each block there is either the initial of one of the women in my family (my grandmothers at the top down to the generation following mine at the bottom) or a quality of our family, embroidered on the block. At the top, the pink square includes "The future is the past", while at the bottom, on the green square, "The past is the future".
I was pleased with this one - it looks rather random, perhaps, but it works for me. The fabrics all blended in well together, and there's a pleasure in having captured a family tree in cloth.
This one combines old blocks (recut to become squares) with new reproduction fabric in the sashings, and old green buttons on the cornerstones. On each block there is either the initial of one of the women in my family (my grandmothers at the top down to the generation following mine at the bottom) or a quality of our family, embroidered on the block. At the top, the pink square includes "The future is the past", while at the bottom, on the green square, "The past is the future".
I was pleased with this one - it looks rather random, perhaps, but it works for me. The fabrics all blended in well together, and there's a pleasure in having captured a family tree in cloth.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Rosette
One of my quilts, 100 Glimpses: Fact and Fiction won an award at the Sydney Quilt Show this year. Very exciting it was to receive a judges' commendation. Woohoo! I don't make quilts for prizes, and this particular one was a game I wanted to play, combining my photos and 100 word stories (so if you've read this blog much, you'd recognise what's on the quilt - I caught up with Bev at the show, who does read this blog, and she definitely experienced deja vu!). It was a good game to play, so the award is the unexpected cherry on the icing on the cake.
And yes, hunt around here not too far and you'll find a picture of the whole quilt. Try the entry for 15 June.
And yes, hunt around here not too far and you'll find a picture of the whole quilt. Try the entry for 15 June.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Returning soon...
...probably on the weekend. The feverish cold has become an irritating cough, work has been Very Busy and so forth and so on.
But here's a lovely rose from the rose gardens at Cowra to keep you going. Take a moment. Look at it. Remember a lovely moment from the past that you associate with roses, or flowers, or a special flower.
Aaaaaaah. I should do that more often.
But here's a lovely rose from the rose gardens at Cowra to keep you going. Take a moment. Look at it. Remember a lovely moment from the past that you associate with roses, or flowers, or a special flower.
Aaaaaaah. I should do that more often.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Cough
coughcoughcough
sniff
sniffsniff
cough
coughcoughcoughcoughcough
in grip of feverish cold. back soon.
sniff
sniffsniff
cough
coughcoughcoughcoughcough
in grip of feverish cold. back soon.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Kiva: the Cielo group
This is my most recent Kiva loan, to this Cielo group: a continent away, over the Pacific Ocean, in Bolivia, they're sewing too.
You can lend through Kiva, microfinance to the world's poor, from as little as $25US. The money is paid back, and then you can lend it again. What's not to like? Please consider participating too. There are so many different people and businesses, all worth supporting - reading about each business is a window to understanding how the world works in other places.
The main activity of the group "Sky" is making hand embroidered clothes, purses and folk disguises. They work with Pro-Mujer and take on much responsibility. They have already finalized the work that people have ordered, art work for stores, and folk disguises for fairs in the city of "La Paz."
The dream of the association is to export their products to the interior and exterior of the country. In order to do this, they need better credit to replenish their capital for work and be able to hire personnel to help them in the business. They already have orders that demand manual labor and much time and they will train these new employees in order to ensure the quality of their products. In this way, they will achieve better economic and personal status for the benefit of their homes.
Here are their names: Fernando Gutierrez (not pictured), Betty Flores, Gladys Yapu, Cintia Bravo, Filomena Rada, Norka Claure, Emilia Chabarria (not pictured), Ana Fernandez, Feliza Suares, America Garcia, Ivlin Alfaro, Patricia Guerrero, Blanca Chabarria.
I've added a Kiva banner over on the silver sidebar - take a look at the business there (it refreshes each time the blog page is reloaded) as a place to start...
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Vale Sydney Pollack
Out of Africa remains one of my favourite films. And as I consider other favourites, the work of Sydney Pollack is represented as one of my favourite directors. His films earned deserved respect for his clear, intelligent approach to film-making. And I enjoyed the characters he brought to the screen in his acting roles.
Two favourite directors gone this year, Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack. I am sad to think I will not again have the opportunity to learn, imagine, be entertained and drawn into worlds by their work, and grateful for what they did make.
There are many lengthy, deserved, detailed obituaries on the net for both men. This is just a simple thank you from one cinemagoer.
Sydney Pollack, thank you.
Two favourite directors gone this year, Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack. I am sad to think I will not again have the opportunity to learn, imagine, be entertained and drawn into worlds by their work, and grateful for what they did make.
There are many lengthy, deserved, detailed obituaries on the net for both men. This is just a simple thank you from one cinemagoer.
Sydney Pollack, thank you.
100 Word Stories: You're wet, cold and hungry
The woollen socks worked for a while, but then gave up. I felt my feet chilling, and the gnaw of hunger as darkness fell. The rain kept gusting under the canopy, and I wished rather viciously that its designer was here too, shivering under a bus shelter that offered neither shelter nor bus.
A vehicle accident, said the radio. Road entirely blocked. Nothing to be done but wait.
Or walk.
I couldn’t stand the miserable seep of cold any more. Staying seemed increasingly pointless. Hoisting an optimistic umbrella, I started on the long walk home, rain stinging my face gleefully.
A vehicle accident, said the radio. Road entirely blocked. Nothing to be done but wait.
Or walk.
I couldn’t stand the miserable seep of cold any more. Staying seemed increasingly pointless. Hoisting an optimistic umbrella, I started on the long walk home, rain stinging my face gleefully.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Chandelier spiderweb
All along the bush/woodland path we walked this morning, spiderwebs festooned the greenery. Although it wasn't sparrowfart (early early), it was still early enough for the dew to have beaded on them. Beautiful, like chandeliers, or grand necklaces strewn about carelessly.
If you can't quite see this so well, try clicking on the photo to see it larger in Flickr.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Cupcakes
These are white chocolate mud and raspberry cupcakes. They were cooked, iced and eaten, and more will be required next week. It's a while since I've done any baking, it was good to play. The trays are small-hole ones, the cakes a mouthful or two. While cupcakes have yet to tsunami their way here as they have in the US, it is a bit easier to find coloured paper cups for them, and little coloured paper cups, than it used to be.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Late afternoon
The end of another long, busy day at work. The only photo you seem to have had time to take is the trees in the near-empty car park silhouetted against a blushing sky. Still, that's something worth trying to catch.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Ladybird books
Ladybird books were a much-read and much-loved part of my childhood. There were lots of them in the house, and they informed, and entertained us for many happy hours.
I noticed these sets in the bookshop this week. I'm perfectly happy for them to reissue vintage Ladybird books, but was ambivalent about the way they'd chosen to do it. One box is for boys, one for girls. (Won't take you long to guess which is which). And while this might accurately reflect the times of these books' original publication, I wonder about doing so now. Am I just being politically correct? But why do boys get to make a transistor radio, while girls shop and help at home (oh, and understand maps, which is the only one that doesn't have me bristling a tad)?
Was this the only way they could divide the books into sets? What about a set about making, another about careers, another about 'how things work'? I know that's more than a neat, gender-specific (complete with assumptions) pair like this. And I know that while these sets may suit children of the specified gender, the underlying sexism troubles me.
The shelf of Ladybird books with which I grew up wasn't divided into books for boys and girls. Even if the books did reflect their times - fifties, sixties, seventies (and they did and do), this marketing choice is a modern one that seems unfortunate or ill-thought-through, to me.
I noticed these sets in the bookshop this week. I'm perfectly happy for them to reissue vintage Ladybird books, but was ambivalent about the way they'd chosen to do it. One box is for boys, one for girls. (Won't take you long to guess which is which). And while this might accurately reflect the times of these books' original publication, I wonder about doing so now. Am I just being politically correct? But why do boys get to make a transistor radio, while girls shop and help at home (oh, and understand maps, which is the only one that doesn't have me bristling a tad)?
Was this the only way they could divide the books into sets? What about a set about making, another about careers, another about 'how things work'? I know that's more than a neat, gender-specific (complete with assumptions) pair like this. And I know that while these sets may suit children of the specified gender, the underlying sexism troubles me.
The shelf of Ladybird books with which I grew up wasn't divided into books for boys and girls. Even if the books did reflect their times - fifties, sixties, seventies (and they did and do), this marketing choice is a modern one that seems unfortunate or ill-thought-through, to me.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Focus
Today was one of those days when you aim to focus, while things come at you from all angles. Not unmanageably so, but constant. Didn't achieve all I wanted to, but some of it happened, and more will tomorrow.
Ended the day with a great conversation with an independent bookseller. Ranged over lots of things, but one of the many things we agreed on was that, with a good book, you go on an engrossing journey that you can't experience any other way. Doesn't have to be the finest literature - we all have individual lists of page-turners, words that take you into worlds. Love that about books.
It's so good when you can share them, and find someone else getting the same delight. I've recently lent a bunch of Georgette Heyers to a friend who'd never read any, and she enjoyed them immensely, disappeared into them, set other things aside so she could stay in, travel in the world of each one. Love that about books.
On reflection, I'm fortunate to have had "The Time Traveler's Wife" as the first audiobook I'd listened to in a long time. And unabridged (William Hope and Laurel Lefkow, utterly brilliant readers). That rendering was of such quality and depth. It slowed me down to notice what I hadn't noticed before, it took me through my favourite sections with unalloyed delight. As I've said before, I've listened to it three times. It also sent me back to the printed book.
From the bunch I posted a couple of weeks ago, I'm now partway through "The Art of Mending", and believe that it's not just the reader's voice that isn't gelling for me, it's probably that the book isn't connecting either. I don't believe it, I'm not able to suspend disbelief. The central character is a 'quilt artist', but in a way that I've not known anyone to be so - switching between working with commissions involving loved clothing to other ones involving new fabric. Perhaps there are people doing this in the US, but it seemed unfocused to me, a tad implausible - the quilt artists with whom I'm familiar tend to have honed their attention to a specific body of work, rather than being jills-of-all-fabric. Somehow this woman was a commercial commission quilter, maybe, but not a quilt artist. Or not an art quilter, if that's a better way to put it.
It wasn't just that, though. I wasn't enjoying spending time with these people. I didn't care what happened to them - they were boring and self-involved and smug and tedious (whereas you can have self-involved characters that you dislike intensely, but want to keep reading about). They stayed as words, they didn't become real. The book hasn't held me - I've only experienced it as audio, I don't own a print copy (slight disadvantage, I can't just flip to the end and read the last couple of pages!) and I don't think I'd be interested to. It's got about four stars on amazon.com, so there are plenty of folks who disagree with me.
So now I've started on the unabridged audiobook of "Outlander "("Cross Stitch" was its publication title here and in the UK) by Diana Gabaldon. It's a book I've read and shared and read again. And again. And while the reader somehow isn't my favourite (I don't know enough to know, but it seems like her Scottish accents are a bit dodgy from time to time), it's a serviceable version and is again bringing the book a new dimension and sending me back to the printed book.
To focus my thoughts so far: a good audiobook can enhance the original print book; but I'm not sure that a decent one can do anything if the original words don't have what it takes to draw you in. (As was true with "The Last of the Mohicans" audiobook, despite the skill of William Hope). It's unreasonable to expect every book to be a winner , but I don't want to spend money on books that aren't, or at least not often. That was what I talked of with the bookseller, too. Nearly $30 is a lot to spend on a book you end up disliking or feeling indifferent about.
Tomorrow is another day. And will include books.
Ended the day with a great conversation with an independent bookseller. Ranged over lots of things, but one of the many things we agreed on was that, with a good book, you go on an engrossing journey that you can't experience any other way. Doesn't have to be the finest literature - we all have individual lists of page-turners, words that take you into worlds. Love that about books.
It's so good when you can share them, and find someone else getting the same delight. I've recently lent a bunch of Georgette Heyers to a friend who'd never read any, and she enjoyed them immensely, disappeared into them, set other things aside so she could stay in, travel in the world of each one. Love that about books.
On reflection, I'm fortunate to have had "The Time Traveler's Wife" as the first audiobook I'd listened to in a long time. And unabridged (William Hope and Laurel Lefkow, utterly brilliant readers). That rendering was of such quality and depth. It slowed me down to notice what I hadn't noticed before, it took me through my favourite sections with unalloyed delight. As I've said before, I've listened to it three times. It also sent me back to the printed book.
From the bunch I posted a couple of weeks ago, I'm now partway through "The Art of Mending", and believe that it's not just the reader's voice that isn't gelling for me, it's probably that the book isn't connecting either. I don't believe it, I'm not able to suspend disbelief. The central character is a 'quilt artist', but in a way that I've not known anyone to be so - switching between working with commissions involving loved clothing to other ones involving new fabric. Perhaps there are people doing this in the US, but it seemed unfocused to me, a tad implausible - the quilt artists with whom I'm familiar tend to have honed their attention to a specific body of work, rather than being jills-of-all-fabric. Somehow this woman was a commercial commission quilter, maybe, but not a quilt artist. Or not an art quilter, if that's a better way to put it.
It wasn't just that, though. I wasn't enjoying spending time with these people. I didn't care what happened to them - they were boring and self-involved and smug and tedious (whereas you can have self-involved characters that you dislike intensely, but want to keep reading about). They stayed as words, they didn't become real. The book hasn't held me - I've only experienced it as audio, I don't own a print copy (slight disadvantage, I can't just flip to the end and read the last couple of pages!) and I don't think I'd be interested to. It's got about four stars on amazon.com, so there are plenty of folks who disagree with me.
So now I've started on the unabridged audiobook of "Outlander "("Cross Stitch" was its publication title here and in the UK) by Diana Gabaldon. It's a book I've read and shared and read again. And again. And while the reader somehow isn't my favourite (I don't know enough to know, but it seems like her Scottish accents are a bit dodgy from time to time), it's a serviceable version and is again bringing the book a new dimension and sending me back to the printed book.
To focus my thoughts so far: a good audiobook can enhance the original print book; but I'm not sure that a decent one can do anything if the original words don't have what it takes to draw you in. (As was true with "The Last of the Mohicans" audiobook, despite the skill of William Hope). It's unreasonable to expect every book to be a winner , but I don't want to spend money on books that aren't, or at least not often. That was what I talked of with the bookseller, too. Nearly $30 is a lot to spend on a book you end up disliking or feeling indifferent about.
Tomorrow is another day. And will include books.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Blue window
This photo dates back ten years, to a visit to Blundell's Cottage on the shores of Lake Burley Griffin, in Canberra. The intense blue appealed to me, and the crazy-piecing of the stonework (OK, so even then I could see quilts in all sorts of non-quilty places).
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Conversely, ...
Tomorrow I will be wearing these to work. Not formal, but comfortable, and there's a big day all day on my feet coming up. So practical overrules stylish (not that I wear high heels anyway, too much running around on a normal day). With these, and thick socks, my feet will survive, even if I arrive home catatonic with fatigue. Luckily we only have these particular big days a few times in the year.
These are the red leather Project Red Converse boots which you can find around the traps - some of the proceeds go to Bono's charities. Last time I owned gymboots I was a teenager. These are great.
These are the red leather Project Red Converse boots which you can find around the traps - some of the proceeds go to Bono's charities. Last time I owned gymboots I was a teenager. These are great.
Tweaking
Yup, I'm playing with the blog header. We've gone from purty roses to vintage kitchen cupboards - not the ones in this house, but I liked the blue and white and little bit of red. And the wear on them. This one will be there for a week or two, then another one will appear. Why leave it the same all the time, I say (having left it the same all the time for months and months...).
Must get the photos off the digital camera. I should have had it at the trivia night last night, the table dressed up as Ghoulies had gone to a LOT of trouble, including cupcakes with maggots (that would be candy maggots, I hasten to add as you recoil) and icing in sinister purple and ominous green. They came equal first with our table, the good cause for which the trivia night was being held made a decent profit, and it was a cheerful evening all round. One of the most amusing questions/answers was a loquacious and circumlocutory quote which we attributed to Gough Whitlam, and which turned out to be the work of Kevin Rudd. Hmm. Not sure which of them would be more disturbed by our misattribution. (note for those overseas: you'll find 'em in Wikipedia, but the short version is EGW=Labor Party Prime Minister in the early 1970s, and KR=current Labor Party Prime Minister).
Petrol's now over $1.50/litre, some places with it over $1.60 litre. I needed some border fabric for a quilt yesterday and was very happy to find something just right at the shop 10km away rather than having to pursue an obscure fabric to a shop which is a 90km round trip. I'd used the obscure fabric elsewhere in the quilt and it was a range on which most shops had passed (but it's NICE you hear me whine; but it's not the common taste, you hear the shops reply. Story of my life).
Must get the photos off the digital camera. I should have had it at the trivia night last night, the table dressed up as Ghoulies had gone to a LOT of trouble, including cupcakes with maggots (that would be candy maggots, I hasten to add as you recoil) and icing in sinister purple and ominous green. They came equal first with our table, the good cause for which the trivia night was being held made a decent profit, and it was a cheerful evening all round. One of the most amusing questions/answers was a loquacious and circumlocutory quote which we attributed to Gough Whitlam, and which turned out to be the work of Kevin Rudd. Hmm. Not sure which of them would be more disturbed by our misattribution. (note for those overseas: you'll find 'em in Wikipedia, but the short version is EGW=Labor Party Prime Minister in the early 1970s, and KR=current Labor Party Prime Minister).
Petrol's now over $1.50/litre, some places with it over $1.60 litre. I needed some border fabric for a quilt yesterday and was very happy to find something just right at the shop 10km away rather than having to pursue an obscure fabric to a shop which is a 90km round trip. I'd used the obscure fabric elsewhere in the quilt and it was a range on which most shops had passed (but it's NICE you hear me whine; but it's not the common taste, you hear the shops reply. Story of my life).
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Doesn't autumn last a long time?
Seems to be so, on this blog, doesn't it? Well, there are plenty of eucalyptus trees about doing nothing in particular different now to what they do the rest of the year, so it's nice to notice the ones with a bit of variety - autumn colour now, blossom or jacaranda in spring.
I like the variation of colour in this, from green to dead brown. We walk past this tree each week, and it's getting closer and closer to no leaves at all.
Quite happy for autumn to last a long time. It's not as cold as winter. But winter's coming, you can tell. Even if it's the milder Sydney winter, no snow or ice. But yes to frost and fog and needing the heaters on and enjoying hot water bottles and hot chocolate and cinnamon toast.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Carnival
Athletics carnival day today - but still time to photograph the lane marking (to several people asking, why? in bewilderment) because it amused me to see how the painting had made the grass almost seem like white flowers.
I have been accused of being, at times, easily amused...
It always interests me that, at athletics carnivals, when you're actually there, the contest that ends up drawing the largest crowd is always the high jump, when the good jumpers are getting towards the end of the competition. The tension, the wonder, the visible challenge, the way, in the end, it's person against bar. I hope the Olympics and Commonwealth Games broadcasters will someday realise the potential of this and broadcast more than brief highlights. Maybe someday.
I have been accused of being, at times, easily amused...
It always interests me that, at athletics carnivals, when you're actually there, the contest that ends up drawing the largest crowd is always the high jump, when the good jumpers are getting towards the end of the competition. The tension, the wonder, the visible challenge, the way, in the end, it's person against bar. I hope the Olympics and Commonwealth Games broadcasters will someday realise the potential of this and broadcast more than brief highlights. Maybe someday.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The Writing Life
I bought Annie Dillard's book in 1994. I did know of it, but had not found it in any bookshops here in Oz. And then stumbled over it being used (in multiple copies) as beige shelf-filler at a chain furniture store. I notice that Ikea uses non-English books as filler in its stores, so they are probably at minimal risk of being bailed up, as this other store (it wasn't Ikea) was.
Could I please buy a copy? I asked. Just one. I really want to buy this book.
It's just decor.
Please?
We don't have a price on it.
Can you make one up?
(Clearly I wasn't going to give up).
OK, they said, just one copy, $10.
Done, I said, handing over the cash.
Maybe it was around in some bookshops in Sydney, but it wasn't one likely to be stocked by many. Now, I'd hunt it up on the internet (you can buy over 100 used and new copies from amazon.com, for example, I just checked). But then, back then when the world was young and the closest I'd got to the internet was some Macworld caper a computerish pal was playing with (and I never got to see, since it wouldn't work when he tried to show me what it was like), back then, to find a copy of this was phone calls and guesses.
I reread it today. It's as wise and insightful and tough-minded as it was then, and has been on each rereading in the years since I bought it. If you're interested in writing, it's certainly worth reading. It may inspire you or make you despair, but that's your response. It's a fine book. Review, including quotes, here.
How the world has changed. It is so much easier to track down obscure books, and that's just one example among many. With the increments of days, months, years, it can be difficult to remember 'then'. 'Then', for instance, when there were maybe two antique dealers in Sydney where you could find antique samplers - now, the internet offers many, available from around the world, with a broader price range. Then, when buying vintage American quilts was virtually impossible (maybe one dealer in Sydney? - hoo-wow, now you can look at, and bid on/buy, from hundreds on the internet). Then, before digital cameras or blogs or Flickr or Skype or email, let alone the other possibilities of the internet.
Everything's changed, and yet not everything. I still buy books, read books, love books, browse bookshops in the real world as well as online. You can't get Kindle here, only another very very expensive reader, so the closest I've got to reading longer work on the computer is an ebook I still haven't finished. Nope, as far as I'm concerned the book is far from dead.
It's good to step back now and then, and reflect. Of course the kids say, that's what old people do...
I registered for my second webmail email address, at Yahoo!, towards the end of 1997, but my first one (from the long-defunct-swallowed-by-Yahoo! Rocketmail) was in existence for a year or so before that. A dozen years. Not so long.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
100 Glimpses quilt
This is one of my entries in the Sydney Quilt Show, the top almost finished but the quilting (which will be simple) still to be done.
When it's finished and hanging in the show in June, I'll post a flat full shot here. Truly. And one of my other show entry.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Berries, which become a rant
Still playing with the zoom and macro settings on my little camera. A brighter version of autumn than the browns I've been photographing - almost Christmassy, although the only Christmassy thing around now is the thinking for Christmas projects, as the deadlines for them are closing in....
There are now three films I'm looking forward to seeing, all of them either November or December release (sigh):
* Australia
* Twilight
* The Time Traveler's Wife
In the meantime, our screens will be too darn full of other sound and noise, signifying nothing, or movies targeted at 14yo boys (those of us who aren't 14yo boys don't go to the cinema when there's nothing we want to SEE, don't the film makers and distributors get it??? Films like The Jane Austen Book Club, or 27 Dresses are nowhere near as charming as Sleepless in Seattle, although I saw a recent article lump 'em together as 'chick flicks'. Maybe so, but on a long continuum.). I'm very happy for the 14yo boys, I guess, but why can't they make films I do want to see? Not just decent escapist chick flicks, but quality stuff that travels a good journey. I look up what's on at the local multiplex, and there's nothing I'm remotely interested in seeing. My local cinema does its best, but even though they have better taste, they're hamstrung by lack of good stuff to show. Seems like too long since I had a good evening at the cinema.
Now how on earth did I arrive at that rant, starting with some berries? Dunno.
There are now three films I'm looking forward to seeing, all of them either November or December release (sigh):
* Australia
* Twilight
* The Time Traveler's Wife
In the meantime, our screens will be too darn full of other sound and noise, signifying nothing, or movies targeted at 14yo boys (those of us who aren't 14yo boys don't go to the cinema when there's nothing we want to SEE, don't the film makers and distributors get it??? Films like The Jane Austen Book Club, or 27 Dresses are nowhere near as charming as Sleepless in Seattle, although I saw a recent article lump 'em together as 'chick flicks'. Maybe so, but on a long continuum.). I'm very happy for the 14yo boys, I guess, but why can't they make films I do want to see? Not just decent escapist chick flicks, but quality stuff that travels a good journey. I look up what's on at the local multiplex, and there's nothing I'm remotely interested in seeing. My local cinema does its best, but even though they have better taste, they're hamstrung by lack of good stuff to show. Seems like too long since I had a good evening at the cinema.
Now how on earth did I arrive at that rant, starting with some berries? Dunno.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Australia trailer
The next Baz Luhrmann film, Australia, with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, is due for release in November. This trailer has just been released....
Here's the YouTube link:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=7gtKcr_W_fc
which does work, even if the embedded one seems to come up sometimes as unavailable. There are lots of posted links for this trailer on YouTube, anyway.
Offical Australiamovie.com site (which has the trailer too) and imdb page for Australia.
It was bugging me that the music sounded familiar, particularly the second half of the trailer. There seems to be a thing where they'll use music from another film, maybe because it does sound familiar (I remember noticing music from Little Women used for another film's trailer). I find myself with an odd disconnect, wanting to remember the original source...
Give me a moment......
Ah, got it. Kenneth Branagh's Henry V, music by Patrick Doyle, from memory. That's what it is. It's a favourite film, I should know that music.
Here's the YouTube link:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=7gtKcr_W_fc
which does work, even if the embedded one seems to come up sometimes as unavailable. There are lots of posted links for this trailer on YouTube, anyway.
Offical Australiamovie.com site (which has the trailer too) and imdb page for Australia.
It was bugging me that the music sounded familiar, particularly the second half of the trailer. There seems to be a thing where they'll use music from another film, maybe because it does sound familiar (I remember noticing music from Little Women used for another film's trailer). I find myself with an odd disconnect, wanting to remember the original source...
Give me a moment......
Ah, got it. Kenneth Branagh's Henry V, music by Patrick Doyle, from memory. That's what it is. It's a favourite film, I should know that music.
Autumn colour
Actually, less favourite colour. This looked like the colour scheme a 'modern' fifties or sixties kitchen might have sported. Yellow, dark brown, white. Erk. The way the brown/white leaves colour is fascinating - dark brown one side, white the other, completely different either side.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
DIY Matisse link
If the Matisse widget doesn't work on your blogreader etc, here's the link:
http://www.widgetbox.com/widget/MatisseArtist
http://www.widgetbox.com/widget/MatisseArtist
DIY Matisse
A new widget from Widgetbox to play with. The Matisse widget lets you drag up Matisse-like shapes and arrange them - place, rotate, resize. If you come at a given shape from the left, it's a different colour to that if you come at it from the right.
It's rather fun. And you can print the results, should you wish to.
Je m'excuse humblement, Monsieur Matisse, et ne peut dire dans ma défense que votre travail est source d'inspiration. (Merci beaucoup Google Translate, this may be dicky, but it's kinda French...)
It's rather fun. And you can print the results, should you wish to.
Je m'excuse humblement, Monsieur Matisse, et ne peut dire dans ma défense que votre travail est source d'inspiration. (Merci beaucoup Google Translate, this may be dicky, but it's kinda French...)
Audiobook loot / reviews
This lot arrived recently, and having finished (and thoroughly enjoyed) Skulduggery Pleasant in audiobook form (take a bow, Rupert Degas, your voice is a wonder and a delight, I was laughing like a drain!), I am now starting on these on my daily commute.
All but Outlander were among the bargain audio books at Barnes and Noble, so there's a goodly amount of bang (or voice) for your buck here (and that's even with postage costs: audiobooks here are usually pretty expensive. Outlander alone would have cost more, if I'd bought it here, than all seven in the photo. Thanks be there aren't audiobook regions such as you find with DVD regions).
Apart from Outlander (by Diana Gabaldon, published in Oz & the UK as Cross Stitch), the rest are not books I've read before. Some are abridged, some unabridged: for a fiction book in particular, that I had read in print, an abridged audiobook could feel a bit filleted, and I think I'd find myself waiting for a particular bit and being disappointed if it wasn't included. Maybe I'll disprove this theory somewhere down the line, but for now, if I know and love a book (eg The Time Traveler's Wife), it's unabridged only for me. Conversely, if I listen to one of the above and love it to bits, I may hunt out the novel. The ones above include three nonfiction, four fiction.
My audio book listening tally so far is:
The Time Traveler's Wife
by Audrey Niffenegger
unabridged: read by William Hope and Laurel Lefkow
Rating: utterly brilliant. I loved the novel anyway, but their voices have made me love it even more. It's 16 CDs, and I've listened to it all through, um three times? And lent it to friends. Keeper. This is the audiobook that was so good, it got me into audiobooks. And if you work through that thought, Audrey Niffenegger's book was so good, on the page, that I ventured into its unabridged audiobook. Thank you, Audrey.
The Last of the Mohicans
by James Fenimore Cooper
abridged, thanks be: read by William Hope
I blogged about this. I wasn't polite. William was the best thing about it, and he was wading neck-high in sludge-like prose, poor man, doing his best (and a bunch of accents). Realised that my version of this book (and my only version, you can fergeddaboudit regarding any actual printed text) is the Michael Mann/Daniel Day Lewis film. Aaaaah.
Rating: not remaining in my collection. Probably given away anonymously, so as not to embarrass myself by association.
Skulduggery Pleasant
by Derek Landy
unabridged: read by Rupert Degas
The book's hilarious, and the audio book's hilarious too - and with an audible Irish accent, instead of you remembering to put it in yourself. Rupert's characterisations are excellent - you never mistake Stephanie for Skulduggery - and it's all just heaps of fun, with a wonderful Irish sense of humour.
Rating: must lend this one to kids. And adults. Would be great on a car journey. Keeper.
From the group in the photo:
Middletown, America: one town's passage from trauma to hope
by Gail Sheehy
abridged: read by Gail Sheehy
Abridged here was good - I'm not saying that as a slam, but this was a book I hadn't read, and I think I've gained what I wish from the 6 hour narration. Sheehy's book is based on hundreds of interviews she undertook with people from Middletown, New Jersey, which lost proportionately more people in the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Centre than almost anywhere else. The book is a lens to consider this event, refracted through the lives of a varying group of people. Some, angry in their grief, focus in on the why, and their energy drove an unwilling government towards accountability. For others, it was the loss of a father who'd never know the daughter his wife was carrying on 9/11, or the family who lost a firefighting son/brother, or the men who worked at Ground Zero. All sorts of stories showing how this one day reached into so many lives in so many ways, and how people responded (well and not so well, she doesn't sugarcoat). Sometimes, Gail Sheehy's voice has an odd halting quality, hitching or halting where you would have expected smoothness: but what she can bring, which no narrator in this case could, is her memory of just how the people she interviewed said what they said, tone, inflection, volume. Anger, despair, hope, grief, the gamut.
Rating: good. A keeper, but I won't be listening to it again for a while. Not only do I have loots (sic) more to listen to, it's a story to let sift and settle.
The car's CD stacker has been completely overtaken by whichever is the current audiobook - I listen in the car rather than at home - and every journey now, commute or whatever, is companioned by these stories. It's been one of the good things I've learned/discovered this year.
Which one's next? Either Outlander or The Art of Mending (which I accidentally bought as audiocassettes rather than CDs, but since the car's old enough to have a cassette player too, this isn't a problem - and it was a bargain priced audiobook).
I haven't yet investigated audible.com and suchlike sources of audio downloads - the car doesn't have an mp3 socket, and I'm not sure how these would work with my internet connection in terms of time/bandwidth and associated costs. One step at a time.
Oh, and for several good reasons I listen to the radio rather than audiobooks when I'm quilting or sewing, although I know that's audiobook time for others.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Grass jelly
Not from one of those amazingly scented, and usually amazingly crammed Asian groceries, but lurking on a lower shelf in a suburban supermarket - grass jelly. OK, what's grass jelly?
Its main ingredients were starch and water, with grass playing a minor (but presumably fairly significant) role. Can't say I'm especially enticed by wobbly dark greeny-black chunks (maybe that's a serving suggestion), so I didn't buy and therefore didn't try. When I tried Wikipedia, its article described the used of 'aged and slightly fermented' mint leaves and a 'bitter, iodine' flavour. Hmmm. Not enticing.
Still, if it's on the shelf someone's assuming there's a market for it. The tins to the left were Asian-produced tropical fruits in sugar syrup. And although I don't eat it, the majority of the world thinks the Australian affection for Vegemite is considered aberrant food behaviour by most of the rest of the world.
Its main ingredients were starch and water, with grass playing a minor (but presumably fairly significant) role. Can't say I'm especially enticed by wobbly dark greeny-black chunks (maybe that's a serving suggestion), so I didn't buy and therefore didn't try. When I tried Wikipedia, its article described the used of 'aged and slightly fermented' mint leaves and a 'bitter, iodine' flavour. Hmmm. Not enticing.
Still, if it's on the shelf someone's assuming there's a market for it. The tins to the left were Asian-produced tropical fruits in sugar syrup. And although I don't eat it, the majority of the world thinks the Australian affection for Vegemite is considered aberrant food behaviour by most of the rest of the world.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Rosella in champagne
Before you exclaim in horror at drowning a pretty parrot, even in champagne, rosella is also the name of a native Australian fruit. You can buy them preserved in syrup, for example, and one of these makes a sculpturally interesting (and flavoursome, but not overwhelming) addition to a glass of champagne. A change from strawberries.
Should you be fortunate enough to be at a table also containing macadamias, runny brie and sliced pear, and other such toothsome nibblies, well, you're in luck.
And if that table is surrounded by charming, funny friends, and has happy and varied conversation entertaining them, well, how good is that?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Yellow
There's something beautiful about this - the buttery yellows, the darker background, the imperfections, the classic leaf shape, the caught moment. If there were enough of the yellow leaves, you can imagine Andy Goldsworthy having so many choices of how to have a rather wonderful time.
Went to a work conference today, and ate a catered lunch. When the place was able to produce and elegantly simple salad of undressed leaves (?baby spinach) with slivers of good parmesan, and another salad of Greekish style, also good; and a third salad which I can't remember, except it was good too...and a classy antipasto plate, and so on; why can't they manage an unmashable lasagne? You shouldn't be able to eat lasagne with a blunt spoon. Haven't they heard of al dente? I wouldn't have noticed, except they did other dishes at a decent standard.
Conference was 'lower-tech' in presentation than some I've been to in the last little while, but full of good, wise, actionable ideas. Which only goes to prove, as I've always believed, that technology isn't everything. It's not nothing, but it isn't everything, either.
Went to a work conference today, and ate a catered lunch. When the place was able to produce and elegantly simple salad of undressed leaves (?baby spinach) with slivers of good parmesan, and another salad of Greekish style, also good; and a third salad which I can't remember, except it was good too...and a classy antipasto plate, and so on; why can't they manage an unmashable lasagne? You shouldn't be able to eat lasagne with a blunt spoon. Haven't they heard of al dente? I wouldn't have noticed, except they did other dishes at a decent standard.
Conference was 'lower-tech' in presentation than some I've been to in the last little while, but full of good, wise, actionable ideas. Which only goes to prove, as I've always believed, that technology isn't everything. It's not nothing, but it isn't everything, either.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Undecided
Clearly, this is a plant with issues defining itself, or deciding what it wants to be when it grows up. The mediaeval spiky weapons, fluffy yellow blossoms, sharper scarlet buds and green and burgundy leaves are all on the one plant.
I know how it must be thinking, some days - who AM I today????
I would of course tell you the name of this plant. If I knew.
Later: but I don't need to, because Pennie has named it in her comment. What a useful person Gwy is! Thank you!
I still think it's a weird brew of elements on one plant.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Yellow-green autumn leaf
I've been messing around with the macro setting on my little camera, and have been enjoying seeing the results. Not all good, not by a long shot, but it's a journey. I liked this autumn leaf, ugly-beautiful.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Autumn leaf
This leaf almost looks like wood, with its burnished texture and rich brown colours. On and around the tree was a palette of colour, from yellow through to this one.
While the northern hemisphere blogosphere is rejoicing in spring, we're enjoying the colours of autumn, and the renewed relevance of warming cold hands around a mug of hot chocolate. In the middle of the day, it's not so cold that you can't sit in the sun, out of the wind, and enjoy the outdoors - Sydney's climate hardly plunges you into the depths of winter - and you feel more invigorated, as opposed to the humidity of summer, which sucks the energy from you.
Spring and autumn (fall) are my favourite seasons.
While the northern hemisphere blogosphere is rejoicing in spring, we're enjoying the colours of autumn, and the renewed relevance of warming cold hands around a mug of hot chocolate. In the middle of the day, it's not so cold that you can't sit in the sun, out of the wind, and enjoy the outdoors - Sydney's climate hardly plunges you into the depths of winter - and you feel more invigorated, as opposed to the humidity of summer, which sucks the energy from you.
Spring and autumn (fall) are my favourite seasons.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Reading: Benighted
In the world of this novel, most people are lycanthropes (the word 'werewolf' is never used) and the few who are not (disparagingly known as barebacks) are required to risk their lives to keep order, particularly when the moon is full.
Kit Whitfield spins a convincing, gritty world and explores prejudice and its meanings, wrapped up in very readable crime fiction. I chose this one based on Amazon descriptions and reviews, and wasn't disappointed.
The title is Benighted in North America, and Bareback in the UK, if you're hunting for it.
Kit Whitfield spins a convincing, gritty world and explores prejudice and its meanings, wrapped up in very readable crime fiction. I chose this one based on Amazon descriptions and reviews, and wasn't disappointed.
The title is Benighted in North America, and Bareback in the UK, if you're hunting for it.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Renovation
So, what do you think? I wanted to add a couple of new things, and so needed to transition to the latest Blogger formatting, which involved choosing a new template.
The only thing bewildering me a tad is that Blogger specifies the pixel width of the banner image, but then it doesn't occupy the available space, but jams left and top. Wouldn't mind either centering it or filling the width with it.
A change is as good as a holiday, they say. I shall wait for the effect to kick in....!
The only thing bewildering me a tad is that Blogger specifies the pixel width of the banner image, but then it doesn't occupy the available space, but jams left and top. Wouldn't mind either centering it or filling the width with it.
A change is as good as a holiday, they say. I shall wait for the effect to kick in....!
Starfish
This unfurling leaf has a starfish quality, in its knobbly surface. Noticed it on our Saturday morning walk. The small medieval spiky weapons behind it are from the same plant - seedpods, maybe?
Friday, May 09, 2008
The last rose
The last rose from a friend who's going overseas, so I won't receive any more bounty from a wonderful rose garden. As beautiful, and as much appreciated, as all the others. I'm very grateful for such generosity.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Reading: The host
I've skidded through Stephenie Meyer's Twilight books (know lots of kids who love them dearly) so I skidded through this one. There are some interesting ideas - although I'm not entirely sure why this is classified as 'adult' fiction rather than 'YA' fiction. In Meyer style, it's thick, and full of the torn-this-way torn-that-way angst of the heroine, and not a bad rainy day read.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Autumn
It was a fairly nondescript, narrow tree, with unremarkable green leaves. But the ones that had coloured for autumn (fall) were dying so spectacularly, midgreen turning lime then yellow, blotchings in black, creeping yellow, jags of red. Just amazing. And every one different (You can just see another one on the left of the photograph). Maybe I'll mosaic some of the photos I took (I won't mosaic the odd looks I got from people parking their cars and trying to work out what the madwoman was doing photographing a nothing tree in a carpark). It's good how seasons and the changes they bring open your eyes to different things as you traverse the places of your ordinary life.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Scarlet rose
I've been the beneficiary of a green fingered friend's generosity, and this is one of the last roses, as the season ends. It's been lovely to enjoy them on my desk each week.
Isn't it beautiful?
Isn't it beautiful?
Monday, May 05, 2008
Quilt detail
I used to be Very Rude about Suffolk puffs/yo-yos. And then I found a way to use them in a quilt so they were something else entirely. And changed my mind.
I recently acquired one of the Clover yo-yo makers, and by gum it makes yo-yo making easy...so they've reappeared in my work, on this quilt. And have worked out rather well, representing something other than Suffolk puffs. Or yo-yos.
Candy's been making a rather nice Suffolk puff quilt in brights with black and white, over at Not A Walking Encyclopedia (link over there in my blogroll).
(Quilt to be published in Australian Patchwork and Quilting vol 17 no 3, about five issues away, which is four to five months, so all I can show here is a detail).
I recently acquired one of the Clover yo-yo makers, and by gum it makes yo-yo making easy...so they've reappeared in my work, on this quilt. And have worked out rather well, representing something other than Suffolk puffs. Or yo-yos.
Candy's been making a rather nice Suffolk puff quilt in brights with black and white, over at Not A Walking Encyclopedia (link over there in my blogroll).
(Quilt to be published in Australian Patchwork and Quilting vol 17 no 3, about five issues away, which is four to five months, so all I can show here is a detail).
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Miniature sampler
Another purchase from yesterday's miniatures fair. I bought a cushion from this maker last year, and admired her samplers, so here is this year's investment. The gauze on which she stitches these is 40 count (standard aida cloth is 14 or 16 count and while linen is very often 28 or 30 count, it's stitched over two threads). Incredibly fine (and definitely requiring a magnifying glass). Just wonderful work.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Miniature meat safe
At the AMEA Sydney miniatures fair last year, I saw this wonderful woodwork. It stuck in my mind, so when I saw it this year, it came home with me. Apart from the superb craftsmanship, I love that it represents a vintage type of Australian furniture, the meat safe.
Apparently they could have sold it many times over if it hadn't been painted wood. I'm so glad - love the worn aqua paintwork. I won't mention the maker's name, as she does this as a craft, not a business, but she's brilliant. The doors open (the catches are so small!) and the drawer opens. Such fine, exact work.
I knew which doll's house room it was for, and it fits in so well (I'm still completing that room, so I haven't photographed it in situ).
It's only the second time I've been to the Sydney miniatures fair, and just like last year, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the multifarious ways in which people are creating and crafting in this particular arena, on the sale tables and in the exhibition houses and displays. Fascinating. I bought a few pieces, and came home inspired with plans to work on my own ideas/rooms and get them closer to being finished.
Friday, May 02, 2008
The blocks that came back
So there I was earlier this year, sorting out the sewing room and among the good things I took to the Crowle Foundation was a set of blocks. I'd made them a while ago, and they hadn't become anything more than blocks, so I sent them off to find a new home.
It was hilarious, after having said farewell to them, to have a friend show me the lovely blocks she'd bought from the Crowle May fair. Very very familiar, they were...
It's win win win. I've decluttered, Crowle's made some money and my friend is happy with her purchase. It's all good!
The Crowle Foundation is a charity organisation supporting adults with intellectual disabilities. The foundation has an annual needlecraft fair in May, selling second-hand craft goods, and also shops that are open throughout the year, with good quality second hand books, craft goods and fabrics. Click here (and scroll down) to find out about their fabric cave, book stall and plant nursery. If you're decluttering craft items in good conditions, then it's such a worthwhile cause; and you know they'll sell them as craft goods, not 'rags'.
It was hilarious, after having said farewell to them, to have a friend show me the lovely blocks she'd bought from the Crowle May fair. Very very familiar, they were...
It's win win win. I've decluttered, Crowle's made some money and my friend is happy with her purchase. It's all good!
The Crowle Foundation is a charity organisation supporting adults with intellectual disabilities. The foundation has an annual needlecraft fair in May, selling second-hand craft goods, and also shops that are open throughout the year, with good quality second hand books, craft goods and fabrics. Click here (and scroll down) to find out about their fabric cave, book stall and plant nursery. If you're decluttering craft items in good conditions, then it's such a worthwhile cause; and you know they'll sell them as craft goods, not 'rags'.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Portrait
One of those delightful self portraits children draw. Just love them.
This is from the Recycled Threads project I handed in this week (due for publication in a few months in Australian Country Threads vol 8 no 9) - I was so pleased to find the item featuring this, which I reworked.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Reading: Saving Francesca
Looking for Alibrandi is such a brilliant novel; Melina Marchetta writes a first person narrative of tremendous immediacy, immensely engaging.
In her second novel, Saving Francesca, she does the same, with a different character in different circumstances. Wonderful prose. Great rereading it this week (I read it when it first came out - I know people who can't read books again, but I'm not one of them).
In her second novel, Saving Francesca, she does the same, with a different character in different circumstances. Wonderful prose. Great rereading it this week (I read it when it first came out - I know people who can't read books again, but I'm not one of them).
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Ugg boots
Along with the brussels sprouts, another sign of winter. It's cooled off this week, and the uggs have emerged from hibernation.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Current reading: home magazines
Still working my way through these three. I've been finding a lot of quilt/design inspiration in these - colour combinations, interesting shapes and patternings. Maybe the gridded design on the back of a chair that mutates and translates as I play with it, so you'd be hard-pressed with the final result to know where it began. Ideas are everywhere.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Brussels sprouts
It's winter.
And the world is divided into those who will eat brussels sprouts, and those who WILL NOT (they're usually emphatic).
Buy the tender little ones. Don't overboil them. Combine them with a sweet contrasting flavour, like carrots, or a complementary sauce (maybe a cheesy white sauce) with something like bacon, to balance them.
And the world is divided into those who will eat brussels sprouts, and those who WILL NOT (they're usually emphatic).
Buy the tender little ones. Don't overboil them. Combine them with a sweet contrasting flavour, like carrots, or a complementary sauce (maybe a cheesy white sauce) with something like bacon, to balance them.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Benches
After the ANZAC Day march, and the morning tea at the village hall, the benches put out for those watchers who needed a seat were still there, soon to be put back in the hall for other times and occasions.
Or maybe I just took the photo because I like the aqua and vintage style of them. Could be.
Or maybe I just took the photo because I like the aqua and vintage style of them. Could be.
Friday, April 25, 2008
ANZAC Day
The alarm clock, darkness, a warm scarf because before dawn in April is chill air, and it's been damp, rainy this week. Scramble into the clothes prepared last night and drive to the local war memorial. More cars parked in the carpark and along the road than you ever see at any other time of year, and certainly not before 6 in the morning.
A defence forces honour guard, a catafalque guard, the utter stillness of each of the ones in uniform. The stooped, grey-haired man who moves around the edges of the growing crowd to give us the sheets with the order of service, the words of the hymns and prayers and sacred texts of this one day of the year. He wears his medals and is still, in this way, serving.
In 1915, Australian and New Zealand forces were part of the attack on Gallipoli - a costly, heroic failure that has made ANZAC Day, 25 April, an unambiguous national day with a different, deeper resonance than Australia Day in January.
Dawn services - large ones in cities, smaller ones in towns and villages across the country, and across the world where Australians may be - are an integral part of this day. In the suburban area where I live, it's a gathering that draws many people into a quiet, respectful crowd, single people, couples, families, small children held by their parents, babies bundled against the cold and held close.
It begins at 6am in the half-light. The flags at full mast, the local concert band leading us in singing "Abide With Me", the voices quiet, almost reedy, not a rousing chorus, but a union in music, unity expressed. We sing, bow our heads for prayer, then listen to a member of the local clergy, who quotes from Les Carlyon's magnificent history of Gallipoli, prose that puts you there in sight and sound and smell and hearing, amid the heat and flies and the scent of thyme, the lice you hoped would drown when you swam on the beaches, the tumbled, twisted, irretrievable bodies of no-man's land, the newspaper pages blowing across this landscape from trench to trench, the bugles sounding advances, retreats.
We sing "God Save the Queen" and quietly repeat, at the end of the ode, "Lest we forget", a murmur that binds the crowd in common purpose, the reason we're here, as the dawn light comes across the sky, even on a grey morning such as this one.
The bugler sounds the Last Post, the flags are lowered to half mast and the silence is utter, even with such a crowd, so many people. Reveille sounds, and there is a shifting and settling, and the voices unite to sing "Advance Australia Fair".
And we all return to our own lives for another year.
Except this year was a double. My father was marching in a morning ceremony. Theirs isn't a large village, and the small group of marchers, less than a dozen of them, came around the oval/cricket ground, followed at a respectful distance by a large group of local school children and other people. Leading them, uniformed Lancers on horseback.
It was still grey, and thinking of rain. The ground was muddy, and among the crowd were raincoats, and wellington boots (gumboots), and had furled umbrellas at the ready. Not a large village, but a very respectable crowd. We sang a hymn, and listened to a medalled older man talk about the dreadful, brave roulette of Bomber Command. Wreaths laid, and the ceremony over, the village hall filled with people eating morning tea, home made sandwiches and cupcakes and Anzac biscuits.
On ANZAC Day, I think of my father and uncles, who are still with us, all of whom were in the defence forces during World War II, and my Uncle Willie, who was a pilot who was lost over France in that war. The first time, he came back, smuggled by the resistance. The second time, he didn't.
Lest we forget.
The saluting soldier in the top left photo, turned, at the end of the dawn service, into the crowd and was clutched by his toddler child, who reached over from his mother's arms to his father's, hugged him and then sat up to gently play with the medals pinned on his father's uniformed chest. It was a quiet moment in the crowd, but emblematic of what war is about: duty and family.
The RSL had a proposal, this year, that only returned soldiers should march within the main groups, with relatives wearing medals, and other non-soldiers, at the end of the march. I'm so glad they didn't enforce this. The village march here was short, and the soldiers marched alone, but in the city marches across the country, it's heartwarming, and moving, and somehow very right to see the people marching who are either side by side with their father or grandmother, or marching wearing medals to stand there for someone who can no longer march, or is no longer here to march. Sometimes they carry photos. of the soldiers in whose place they have come. And that is the future, so the medals are aired, the memories refreshed, thanks regiven, year by year, onward, always.
Lest we forget.
A defence forces honour guard, a catafalque guard, the utter stillness of each of the ones in uniform. The stooped, grey-haired man who moves around the edges of the growing crowd to give us the sheets with the order of service, the words of the hymns and prayers and sacred texts of this one day of the year. He wears his medals and is still, in this way, serving.
In 1915, Australian and New Zealand forces were part of the attack on Gallipoli - a costly, heroic failure that has made ANZAC Day, 25 April, an unambiguous national day with a different, deeper resonance than Australia Day in January.
Dawn services - large ones in cities, smaller ones in towns and villages across the country, and across the world where Australians may be - are an integral part of this day. In the suburban area where I live, it's a gathering that draws many people into a quiet, respectful crowd, single people, couples, families, small children held by their parents, babies bundled against the cold and held close.
It begins at 6am in the half-light. The flags at full mast, the local concert band leading us in singing "Abide With Me", the voices quiet, almost reedy, not a rousing chorus, but a union in music, unity expressed. We sing, bow our heads for prayer, then listen to a member of the local clergy, who quotes from Les Carlyon's magnificent history of Gallipoli, prose that puts you there in sight and sound and smell and hearing, amid the heat and flies and the scent of thyme, the lice you hoped would drown when you swam on the beaches, the tumbled, twisted, irretrievable bodies of no-man's land, the newspaper pages blowing across this landscape from trench to trench, the bugles sounding advances, retreats.
We sing "God Save the Queen" and quietly repeat, at the end of the ode, "Lest we forget", a murmur that binds the crowd in common purpose, the reason we're here, as the dawn light comes across the sky, even on a grey morning such as this one.
The bugler sounds the Last Post, the flags are lowered to half mast and the silence is utter, even with such a crowd, so many people. Reveille sounds, and there is a shifting and settling, and the voices unite to sing "Advance Australia Fair".
And we all return to our own lives for another year.
Except this year was a double. My father was marching in a morning ceremony. Theirs isn't a large village, and the small group of marchers, less than a dozen of them, came around the oval/cricket ground, followed at a respectful distance by a large group of local school children and other people. Leading them, uniformed Lancers on horseback.
It was still grey, and thinking of rain. The ground was muddy, and among the crowd were raincoats, and wellington boots (gumboots), and had furled umbrellas at the ready. Not a large village, but a very respectable crowd. We sang a hymn, and listened to a medalled older man talk about the dreadful, brave roulette of Bomber Command. Wreaths laid, and the ceremony over, the village hall filled with people eating morning tea, home made sandwiches and cupcakes and Anzac biscuits.
On ANZAC Day, I think of my father and uncles, who are still with us, all of whom were in the defence forces during World War II, and my Uncle Willie, who was a pilot who was lost over France in that war. The first time, he came back, smuggled by the resistance. The second time, he didn't.
Lest we forget.
The saluting soldier in the top left photo, turned, at the end of the dawn service, into the crowd and was clutched by his toddler child, who reached over from his mother's arms to his father's, hugged him and then sat up to gently play with the medals pinned on his father's uniformed chest. It was a quiet moment in the crowd, but emblematic of what war is about: duty and family.
The RSL had a proposal, this year, that only returned soldiers should march within the main groups, with relatives wearing medals, and other non-soldiers, at the end of the march. I'm so glad they didn't enforce this. The village march here was short, and the soldiers marched alone, but in the city marches across the country, it's heartwarming, and moving, and somehow very right to see the people marching who are either side by side with their father or grandmother, or marching wearing medals to stand there for someone who can no longer march, or is no longer here to march. Sometimes they carry photos. of the soldiers in whose place they have come. And that is the future, so the medals are aired, the memories refreshed, thanks regiven, year by year, onward, always.
Lest we forget.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Quilt detail/Further comment
Can't show this any bigger, because it's going to be published later in the year* but I did enjoy these fabrics, esp. the aqua/chartreuse one. Yum. Great colour combination. Clearly, it inspired me, because there is evidence of handquilting here, there is indeed. Not my usual thing, since I generally find it daunting and slow and something that gets in the way of me playing with the next lot of fabrics.
Further to my Amazon comment (read: rant!) from earlier in April: the first shipment from my order of 8 April, which shipped on 11 April and was estimated to arrive (by standard international shipping) by 17 May, has come, on 24 April.
I am happy that it's faster than the estimate, and await the second shipment (sent three days later) with interest...Maybe I was lucky. Maybe they cover their behinds, by estimating such a long duration. Maybe they did retire the Amazonian mules for more modern transport...
I finished Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, and liked it, so am glad that Wicked has now arrived to read. The composer was on Spicks and Specks this week (Stephen Schwartz), and I felt fraffly up to date, knowing about Wicked-the-musical and its source. A production is planned for Oz (Australia) from July 2008 in (sigh) Melbourne.
*(look for it in Australian Patchwork and Quilting magazine Vol 17 no 2) (current issue in Australia is vol 16 no 9, so it's five issues away).
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Op shopping
Some finds from Saturday's op shopping/thrifting expedition. Background is a tapestry cushion cover ($2) that will probably become a bag - it's nice quality. Several reels of Gutermann thread for $1 each (for applique), and bags of buttons/threads for up to $2 each.
Particularly happy with the vintage green cotton ricrac (60c I think), the little silver jug (I already have one for pens etc, they're good and solid - this one was $3) and the little artist's figure ($2). Not sure what I'll do with the latter, but I've got an idea or two. New green bead necklace $4. Not bad going for an investment of $25 or so.
The traffic goes the other way too - the Salvos van came by this morning and collected a bunch of stuff. I happened to be going by their local store later in the afternoon and took a quick look. It was startling to see, already on the floor and for sale, stuff they'd only picked up that morning. That's fast! And no, I didn't buy anything back. I wasn't checking for it either - hadn't occurred to me to do so - I was after something else.
My sandpaper board has vanished, and I need to write on some fabric. The Salvos yielded a wooden teapot stand with a flat back (I was looking for a wooden chopping board or similar) and Big W (Walmartish store) some sandpaper, so a bit of glueing, set overnight, will give me another sandpaper board. Otherwise I would have checked the local hardware store that does, sometimes, have cheap/free offcuts. But the teapot stand was only a dollar or two.
(Sandpaper board: if you haven't come across one of these. If you want to write on fabric with a Pigma pen or other fine pen, a sandpaper board will hold the fabric stlil and prevent pulling. You can buy them made, but fine sandpaper glued to a board backing does the trick.)
The biggest luck-out at an op shop today was an unplanned buy that just shows the value you can find. A quality Australian brand coat/jacket (peacoat length?), for a mere $10. 70% wool, poly, cashmere (feels lovely) in useful black, well made, classic style and a great fit in great condition. I got it drycleaned, just to spruce it, and one button needs resewing (it's not gone, just almost off). It seems barely worn - the sleeve label is still sewn on, and there are no signs of wear. In this climate, a coat isn't necessarily an everyday wear thing in winter (I don't stand around on chilly train platforms much), but it's going to be handy. It's warm and comfortable, and a Find! (Certainly I know other op shops which would have had a much higher price on it).
Particularly happy with the vintage green cotton ricrac (60c I think), the little silver jug (I already have one for pens etc, they're good and solid - this one was $3) and the little artist's figure ($2). Not sure what I'll do with the latter, but I've got an idea or two. New green bead necklace $4. Not bad going for an investment of $25 or so.
The traffic goes the other way too - the Salvos van came by this morning and collected a bunch of stuff. I happened to be going by their local store later in the afternoon and took a quick look. It was startling to see, already on the floor and for sale, stuff they'd only picked up that morning. That's fast! And no, I didn't buy anything back. I wasn't checking for it either - hadn't occurred to me to do so - I was after something else.
My sandpaper board has vanished, and I need to write on some fabric. The Salvos yielded a wooden teapot stand with a flat back (I was looking for a wooden chopping board or similar) and Big W (Walmartish store) some sandpaper, so a bit of glueing, set overnight, will give me another sandpaper board. Otherwise I would have checked the local hardware store that does, sometimes, have cheap/free offcuts. But the teapot stand was only a dollar or two.
(Sandpaper board: if you haven't come across one of these. If you want to write on fabric with a Pigma pen or other fine pen, a sandpaper board will hold the fabric stlil and prevent pulling. You can buy them made, but fine sandpaper glued to a board backing does the trick.)
The biggest luck-out at an op shop today was an unplanned buy that just shows the value you can find. A quality Australian brand coat/jacket (peacoat length?), for a mere $10. 70% wool, poly, cashmere (feels lovely) in useful black, well made, classic style and a great fit in great condition. I got it drycleaned, just to spruce it, and one button needs resewing (it's not gone, just almost off). It seems barely worn - the sleeve label is still sewn on, and there are no signs of wear. In this climate, a coat isn't necessarily an everyday wear thing in winter (I don't stand around on chilly train platforms much), but it's going to be handy. It's warm and comfortable, and a Find! (Certainly I know other op shops which would have had a much higher price on it).
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Not a rant: Penny Foolish
Osbert Sitwell's wonderful volume found me in an op shop on the weekend for only a couple of dollars. When I'm in the mood for a rant, I must remember the possibility of a tirade, not to mention the balancing effect of a panegyric (a formal expression of praise, I checked).
I flicked through this in the op shop. The contents pages (click on one of the photos, they're over in my Flickr photostream) looked promising. Both sides. My library has previously lacked any volumes particularly dealing with prigs and snobs, and I'm looking forward to reading about the delights of foreign colonies. As you would.
What's not to like????
Aren't words wonderful? They may be slothful, or lazy, but I am merely indolent, and it turns out to be useful...
If you pine for your own copy, they start under $US5 plus postage on abebooks.com.
Monday, April 21, 2008
The price of petrol
The petrol tank (gas tank) of the car was almost empty, and this is how much it cost to fill...
It's the first time it's cost over $50 for a tank of petrol for a medium-sized 4 cylinder car.
In July 2006 I thought prices were high, and blogged it here:
http://rooruu.blogspot.com/search?q=price+of+petrol
and that time it was $45 to fill. Prices went down after that, but they're back up. Cheap day of the week petrol here has been around $1.34/litre for the green Vortex one (which is usually about 7c/litre more expensive than plain unleaded, but which goes a bit further).
Translations:
$51 Australian is about 47.50 in US dollars , or 23 UK pounds.
31 litres is 8.2 US gallons
This fuel cost approx, in US dollars, $5.79c/gallon, or in UK pounds, 75p a litre. How does that compare with petrol for you?
It was amazing that the moment barrel prices went up on the world market, this was reflected at our pumps, even if that fuel hadn't made it to Australia yet.
Now to wait for the flow-on effect on prices for goods, since so much is transported by road.
Still, cars are very handy. I drove to visit a design wall I could use to lay out those chain pieced blocks from the other day. It would have been way too far to walk, and it was my reward for working virtuously for much of the day (when I didn't have to!).
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Chain piecing
See, you design a modest, simple quilt, and of course you don't count up the number of seams. Until you sit chain-piecing at the sewing machine and it seems to be all whirring, whirring, pressing, more whirring and, on the one hand, you're happy to see the work coming together. On the other hand - and this happens with lots of quilts, or other big projects - there's always that point somewhere in the middle where it seems rather endless, as you cut more fabric, seat yourself at the sewing machine, plod back to the iron...
Maybe that's the point where some projects lose their energy and focus, get put aside and maybe don't ever get finished.
This one will. I took a break from it, read some more of Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister (rich prose, a plum pudding of prose with the sharp acid catch of lemon peel - Maguire has great imagination, the way he's playing with Cinderella and other stuff to make something new).
And I guess this quilt has some of those qualities, combining old and new. I'm a bit over those seams. But when I get them finished, I can play with a cornucopia of blocks on a design wall, and feel the energy of the next step in construction. And it's also how you look at it, without process there is no product, it's the effort and time that make something happen.
Mostly, I enjoy process, the rhythm of it, the zone in which you can find yourself. And I am happy with how this quilt is coming together.
Maybe that's the point where some projects lose their energy and focus, get put aside and maybe don't ever get finished.
This one will. I took a break from it, read some more of Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister (rich prose, a plum pudding of prose with the sharp acid catch of lemon peel - Maguire has great imagination, the way he's playing with Cinderella and other stuff to make something new).
And I guess this quilt has some of those qualities, combining old and new. I'm a bit over those seams. But when I get them finished, I can play with a cornucopia of blocks on a design wall, and feel the energy of the next step in construction. And it's also how you look at it, without process there is no product, it's the effort and time that make something happen.
Mostly, I enjoy process, the rhythm of it, the zone in which you can find yourself. And I am happy with how this quilt is coming together.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Charming
Isn't this watercolour print charming? Reminds me of pictures from my childhood (although it might be a bit earlier last century...). It was in an op shop (thrift shop). Do you think I should have bought it? It wasn't vastly expensive, but I dithered and put it back...
A lady nearby said, "It's a great picture of a chicken, I love chicken things," and I thought, gee, I didn't even particularly register the chicken, certainly not from the point of view of seeing it as the major part of the picture...ah, our different ways of seeing.
Any clues about artist etc? I'd love to know. Should I have put it back or taken it home??? (I left the op shop without it). The frame's not great (and seemed original, judging by the back, which I didn't photograph). But that rosy-apple-cheeked little girl...
A lady nearby said, "It's a great picture of a chicken, I love chicken things," and I thought, gee, I didn't even particularly register the chicken, certainly not from the point of view of seeing it as the major part of the picture...ah, our different ways of seeing.
Any clues about artist etc? I'd love to know. Should I have put it back or taken it home??? (I left the op shop without it). The frame's not great (and seemed original, judging by the back, which I didn't photograph). But that rosy-apple-cheeked little girl...
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