It was an old-fashioned thing to do. Aren’t there mobile phones now, and two-way radios? But the leader of our Venturer group insisted, made it a game, made it a competition. And codes, there’s always something about codes…
Susannah’s in our Venturer group – it’s girls and boys. I’m not sure what to say to her, when people are around. But I think she likes me. I sure like her.
Valentine’s Day, in Maths. All you need are two pencils. SMS-abbreviations make it faster. I caught Susannah’s eye. She watched them, watched me. And smiled. Signalled back.
Can’t wait for recess.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Recent reading
As you can see, here in the Antipodes we're just getting some of the Northern Hemisphere Christmas magazines. They're a little less compelling in February...
I've been pouring ideas into my head from magazines like these for a long time. Hope to take action sometime this year, or maybe throughout the year, and continue reorganising the house. Maybe even finish (and then photograph!) the sewing room (hi Candy, who has asked me about this!). For the sewing room, I have a fabulous concept for a cupboard, but I'm still deciding on paint colours. When my brain has time and room for such things.
I've been pouring ideas into my head from magazines like these for a long time. Hope to take action sometime this year, or maybe throughout the year, and continue reorganising the house. Maybe even finish (and then photograph!) the sewing room (hi Candy, who has asked me about this!). For the sewing room, I have a fabulous concept for a cupboard, but I'm still deciding on paint colours. When my brain has time and room for such things.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
100 Word Stories: geometry challenge/polygon
Let’s get this straight. I hate hexagon patchwork. Cutting papers. Laborious tacking, the still more laborious hand-stitching, one edge at a time, whipstitching, gripping the little cardboardy things. Hate hexagons.
So why would I be sitting here with a pile of hexagons in front of me? Tacking? Whipstitching?
Auntie Lula started it. Years ago. And now her daughter, knowing I quilt, has given me this bag. Auntie Lula. Brownies, rich and warm on a cold winter day. Hands that taught me to sew, to cook.
And so, in summer sun, I sit and sew her hexagons, finishing what she began.
So why would I be sitting here with a pile of hexagons in front of me? Tacking? Whipstitching?
Auntie Lula started it. Years ago. And now her daughter, knowing I quilt, has given me this bag. Auntie Lula. Brownies, rich and warm on a cold winter day. Hands that taught me to sew, to cook.
And so, in summer sun, I sit and sew her hexagons, finishing what she began.
Craft magazines
Lots of inspiration and beautiful photographs. And quick reading, for when the days are only offering snatches of time.
Monday, February 11, 2008
100 Word Stories: Are you going to finish that?
It’s carefully wrapped in acid-free tissue paper, in the drawer I use least. Thirty years on, the threads still bright, the last one still long, although I did take out the needle to store it separately.
You can stitch hope, with your fingers, and love, and anticipation, and all sorts of dreams, without ever imagining…
“Are you going to finish that?” he asks, seeing it open on my lap. Back then, he cried with me. And a year later, cried again when our daughter arrived safely. It was still too soon, for this, then.
“Yes. It’s time, isn’t it, Grandad?”
You can stitch hope, with your fingers, and love, and anticipation, and all sorts of dreams, without ever imagining…
“Are you going to finish that?” he asks, seeing it open on my lap. Back then, he cried with me. And a year later, cried again when our daughter arrived safely. It was still too soon, for this, then.
“Yes. It’s time, isn’t it, Grandad?”
Book: New Country Style
God bless Amazon Marketplace and all who sail in her! It's made it possible to find, at reasonable prices, books which are impossible here (either pricey or unobtainable). Postage costs aren't too too appalling (esp. since the Australian dollar is currently around 90c US).
Country Home (US) is still one of my favourite decorating magazines. I was introduced to it years ago, and its version of modern country - not cluttercountry, which tended to be much easier to find in magazines here - remains inspirational. This book may have pictures I've seen before - dunno, yet, I'm still reading - but it won't be a hardship to see them again. It's also interestingly organised, into versions of country.
Country Home (US) is still one of my favourite decorating magazines. I was introduced to it years ago, and its version of modern country - not cluttercountry, which tended to be much easier to find in magazines here - remains inspirational. This book may have pictures I've seen before - dunno, yet, I'm still reading - but it won't be a hardship to see them again. It's also interestingly organised, into versions of country.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Katoomba, a traveller's tale
It was a grey day yesterday, more of the rain we've been having all week, on and off. But what's to complain about, when the dams that were at 33% full this time last year are now double that?
I pulled out a jacket that normally wouldn't get worn in February/summer, but you never can quite tell when you're heading up the mountains. I know it's snowed there in December (also summer) although that's rare.
(If you click on the mosaic, you'll go to its page in Flickr, where it's larger).
Old wares shops fascinate me. There is always, always something you've never seen before, and things to appreciate and dream over. Where could those doors fit into this house? Look at all the greens of those bottles, there's a quilt colour scheme silhouetted against the window. Loved the two quirky little houses, home-made, perhaps? And the colours of the little accordion - wonder what its history might be?
Katoomba has a reasonable amount of Art Deco architecture, some wonderful, some shabbily ignored. It's been good that of recent years the Carrington Hotel was restored.
Along Katoomba Street, you'll find plenty of bookshops, mostly second-hand and antiquarian, with some new books in these, but mostly not. Wonderful spines on old children's books, an amazing assortment of stools and seats on which to perch while you browse.
There's still a hippy edge in Katoomba - it's a meld of all sorts of ways of thinking, from conservative to avant-garde to alternative, and you'll easily find a shop or three selling Indian cotton clothing. Always a homewares shop or three as well, with an eye to the locals and the tourists - these foofly rosy cushions amused me, and I mentioned the lovely cupcakes yesterday. The old chap sitting almost in the window of his dusty secondhand bookshop with a rug over his knees looked comfortably settled, and on a showery cool day, there would be worse places to be.
The fifth row has some architectural details - an iron cross, two adjacent buildings, a mural of Bridal Falls, a statue in a junk shop, the waratah-cutout street rubbish bins.
The sixth row of photos is about things in shops - one had an astonishing array of eiderdowns, an astonishing number of which were pink. The found sculpture of a mad sort of insect made me chuckle, while the brightly coloured tins struck a happy note. The Radio sign is welded into the railing, a reflection of this old wares shop's original incarnation, and well, there's yesterday's excellent lunch.
It's not grand, Katoomba, but sorta shabby and interesting - there's an energy around, it's not dying, but travelling to its own music. If you go to the end of Katoomba Street to the viewing platform for the Three Sisters and the valleys, the shops there are geared for tourism, and you'll pass assorted galleries on the way. I hadn't been there for a while, so it was good to look at familiar places, find new ones, and just browse. Even the parking gods smiled. I wore my jacket (more than one shop had its heater on, and a couple featured fires in slow combustion stoves - yup, in February/summer) and didn't get too wet, and came home happy.
I'm still listening to The Time Traveler's Wife on CD - a bit over half way through, as I'm only listening in the car to spin it out as long as possible. It's so very good - William Hope and Laurel Lefkow's voices are almost a distraction from the road. I come home and reread the section I've listened to in the book, and hear their voices again in my mind.
I note from the Internet Movie Database (imdb.com) that the release date for the film of the book has been pushed from June 2008 to November 2008. Sigh. I hope they do it well, I'm looking forward to it, but that's a long shove on, five months. Who knows the vagaries of film releases? But with November already noted as the release date of the next James Bond film, and the next Harry Potter, and some other things - could TTW maybe come in October? Or earlier? Please? (Eric Bana is playing Henry - ha, the Australian infestation continues!).
Today it's been sunny most of the day, and the washing smells fresh and good as it comes off the Hills Hoist (rotary washing line). Yup. Housework's been the order of the day, and the one day cricket match on the radio this afternoon its soundtrack. Unless there's a batting collapse, India should have this one in the bag - Australia's got an uphill battle defending their unusually small score (well bowled, India!).
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Bacon and egg pie and salad
Trust me, it was all as good as it looks.
Some days you just need to run away. So today I headed up the Blue Mountains to Katoomba and Leura, to browse in bookshops and old wares shops, have this lunch in my favourite cafe (Loaves and the Dishes in Leura - and believe me, between Leura and Katoomba you have, oh, a zillion choices of cafe) (not that I'd claim to have tried them all - but this one is reliably good) and breathe some new air.
Came back refreshed, with a couple of treasures (including Reece's Peanut Butter Cups from the specialist sweetshop for a dear American friend, something else from somewhere else for my mother's birthday, she reads this blog sometimes so I shall say no more) but mostly it was about a change of scene and air after long long days at work and another busy week ahead.
Cupcakes have made their new-style way to the mountains - found a lovely little sliver of a shop in Katoomba Street, Cupid's Cupcakes (they had little and big ones and they were yummy, cake AND icing).
Poked around in the astonishing junk shop where I've had a few finds in the past (nothing today, but you can't expect to find something every time), but I did find a couple of vintage photos for friends (including one who needs cheering up, I hope I've chosen well) in another old wares shop.
Today was for fun. Tomorrow, the inevitable payback - housework. Sigh.
I will do a mosaic of Katoomba images, but for now my internet's veeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry slow, so maybe not tonight.
Hope you're enjoying your weekends too.
Some days you just need to run away. So today I headed up the Blue Mountains to Katoomba and Leura, to browse in bookshops and old wares shops, have this lunch in my favourite cafe (Loaves and the Dishes in Leura - and believe me, between Leura and Katoomba you have, oh, a zillion choices of cafe) (not that I'd claim to have tried them all - but this one is reliably good) and breathe some new air.
Came back refreshed, with a couple of treasures (including Reece's Peanut Butter Cups from the specialist sweetshop for a dear American friend, something else from somewhere else for my mother's birthday, she reads this blog sometimes so I shall say no more) but mostly it was about a change of scene and air after long long days at work and another busy week ahead.
Cupcakes have made their new-style way to the mountains - found a lovely little sliver of a shop in Katoomba Street, Cupid's Cupcakes (they had little and big ones and they were yummy, cake AND icing).
Poked around in the astonishing junk shop where I've had a few finds in the past (nothing today, but you can't expect to find something every time), but I did find a couple of vintage photos for friends (including one who needs cheering up, I hope I've chosen well) in another old wares shop.
Today was for fun. Tomorrow, the inevitable payback - housework. Sigh.
I will do a mosaic of Katoomba images, but for now my internet's veeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry slow, so maybe not tonight.
Hope you're enjoying your weekends too.
Friday, February 08, 2008
100 Word Stories: Relatively, it is very small
In the working week, the tools operate on teeth, scrape and push, cut and encourage them into health. Gloved, masked, watched by hopeful, scared eyes. It is a form of carpentry. Building, shaping, making, tooling things to fit, to function. Teeth to fit together, an acceptable bite, removing pain.
He has another set of these tools. After hours, they shape slivers of exotic timbers into inlay work too small to be done without magnification and good light. People close their mouths on the weekaday work his hands create – and let them fall open at the fineness of his weekend carpentry.
He has another set of these tools. After hours, they shape slivers of exotic timbers into inlay work too small to be done without magnification and good light. People close their mouths on the weekaday work his hands create – and let them fall open at the fineness of his weekend carpentry.
Advice
Two sixteen year old boys asked for some advice today. Their pens were frozen over Valentine's Day order slips. Deciding to order a rose for their best beloved hadn't been a tricky decision, but what to write to accompany it?
Not so easy.
So they asked me what I would write on such a message.
Apart from the fact that I'm rather older and female, so not necessarily very likely to write the same sort of thing...it was an endearing enquiry, and something of an honour to be asked.
But what to say?
Hard to know, in some ways, what their best beloveds might like. Who knows the taste of a teenage girl? And, more importantly, what's realistic (and bearable) for a teenage boy to write.
They were lovely boys. It was an honest enquiry.
I advised steering clear of poetry. Hard to do well, easy to get wrong, and therefore tricky.
So I said, think about why you like her. Is it her laugh or how she cares about people, or how smart she is, or how she makes you feel happy when you're with her? What are the things you appreciate about her? Maybe you could mention a time you went out together and it was a good time, and why it was good.
Write something that's honest, and sounds like you. Sounds like something you'd say. Not flowery stuff that can sound fake, and probably makes you feel a bit daft in writing it anyway. Do you notice how you enjoy the classes you share more than the ones you don't? Why is that?
Honest stuff cuts through more than foofle. Means more.
Is this making any sense? Being any help?
And they said yes, and looked a bit more certain. I hope their best beloveds are happy with the messages they get, and have some inkling of the thought and time the boys were putting into their efforts.
For all they can be obnoxious (hormone poisoning...!) it's worth never forgetting how very sweet and endearing teenagers can be too. Really and truly.
Not so easy.
So they asked me what I would write on such a message.
Apart from the fact that I'm rather older and female, so not necessarily very likely to write the same sort of thing...it was an endearing enquiry, and something of an honour to be asked.
But what to say?
Hard to know, in some ways, what their best beloveds might like. Who knows the taste of a teenage girl? And, more importantly, what's realistic (and bearable) for a teenage boy to write.
They were lovely boys. It was an honest enquiry.
I advised steering clear of poetry. Hard to do well, easy to get wrong, and therefore tricky.
So I said, think about why you like her. Is it her laugh or how she cares about people, or how smart she is, or how she makes you feel happy when you're with her? What are the things you appreciate about her? Maybe you could mention a time you went out together and it was a good time, and why it was good.
Write something that's honest, and sounds like you. Sounds like something you'd say. Not flowery stuff that can sound fake, and probably makes you feel a bit daft in writing it anyway. Do you notice how you enjoy the classes you share more than the ones you don't? Why is that?
Honest stuff cuts through more than foofle. Means more.
Is this making any sense? Being any help?
And they said yes, and looked a bit more certain. I hope their best beloveds are happy with the messages they get, and have some inkling of the thought and time the boys were putting into their efforts.
For all they can be obnoxious (hormone poisoning...!) it's worth never forgetting how very sweet and endearing teenagers can be too. Really and truly.
Eternity
This is one panel of the Federation Tapestry in the Melbourne Museum.
The story of Eternity - Arthur Stace's conversion and his subsequent decision to write that single word, which had changed his life, on the streets of Sydney (over half a million times, and anonymously till someone set out to discover the artist's identity) is one of the great stories of Australia. It's found its way into art, and literature, and film, is a bronze set in a quiet corner of Sydney Square, in Martin Sharp's art, and more.
If you googleyou'll find a bucket of links. It's a story worth knowing. Here's one version.
The story of Eternity - Arthur Stace's conversion and his subsequent decision to write that single word, which had changed his life, on the streets of Sydney (over half a million times, and anonymously till someone set out to discover the artist's identity) is one of the great stories of Australia. It's found its way into art, and literature, and film, is a bronze set in a quiet corner of Sydney Square, in Martin Sharp's art, and more.
If you google
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Office clock
I decided this recent find was perfect for my office. It reminds me of Tord Boontje style silhouette pieces (such as those I was admiring at the National Gallery of Victoria International (Galactic) shop in January). It's a bit nutty/quirky and a lot amusing. I like having interesting items on my office walls - up high, where they don't interfere with the work of the day, but make their own statement.
I remember seeing a fellow professional's office - she came across as a very proper and capable lady, but the hubcaps punctuating the top of her office walls added to that picture and stopped you working off assumptions. Apparently she'd got in trouble for them, which was a shame - I think they would instead have been a point of conversation/discussion/connection with her clientele. I've had interested enquiries about a couple of my wall items, but haven't experienced that intolerance.
I'm thinking I might paint this pillar, though. Boring beige isn't the most engaging colour on the paint chart...
I remember seeing a fellow professional's office - she came across as a very proper and capable lady, but the hubcaps punctuating the top of her office walls added to that picture and stopped you working off assumptions. Apparently she'd got in trouble for them, which was a shame - I think they would instead have been a point of conversation/discussion/connection with her clientele. I've had interested enquiries about a couple of my wall items, but haven't experienced that intolerance.
I'm thinking I might paint this pillar, though. Boring beige isn't the most engaging colour on the paint chart...
100 Word Stories: Run for Cover!
First hint? The early darkening of the day, although it’s early afternoon.
Summer. It’s not too hot, and a walk seemed like a nice idea in the dappled sunlight and warm breeze. Hat, sunblock, walking shoes. Ready.
Second hint? The grumble in the distance, repeated, louder.
And suddenly the day is dark, the sky an angry grey and grumbling turns to crackling, a flash of lightning and it’s too close, the whoosh coming is torrential rain.
I’m a mile from home. I run in a hurried squelching. A drowned rat finally reaches the shelter of the porch. Laughing. Exhilarated. Shivering.
Summer. It’s not too hot, and a walk seemed like a nice idea in the dappled sunlight and warm breeze. Hat, sunblock, walking shoes. Ready.
Second hint? The grumble in the distance, repeated, louder.
And suddenly the day is dark, the sky an angry grey and grumbling turns to crackling, a flash of lightning and it’s too close, the whoosh coming is torrential rain.
I’m a mile from home. I run in a hurried squelching. A drowned rat finally reaches the shelter of the porch. Laughing. Exhilarated. Shivering.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Calendars
If you can't decide which calendar to use, have two.
Can you tell I've been working long hours at my desk?.....
It's nearly time to leave before they lock up, and of course right now the rain has decided to teem.
It was sunny this morning.
My umbrella is in the car.
My car is not in a covered car park.
Can you tell I've been working long hours at my desk?.....
It's nearly time to leave before they lock up, and of course right now the rain has decided to teem.
It was sunny this morning.
My umbrella is in the car.
My car is not in a covered car park.
Desk roses
A gift from the garden of a green-thumbed colleague. They smell wonderful. As I've said before, I love the imperfection of real garden roses. And their scent.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Brown quilt fabrics
I pulled this pile from the stash to work with today, and used some of most of them, along with a little bit of pink and red for spice.
One of my Patent Quilt Theories is that it's worthwhile to make sure your quilt colour choices aren't being biased by your clothing colour choices. I don't wear brown much - wore it too much years ago, and only now are a few brown things creeping back into my wardrobe. But in quilts, brown's a great colour.
To give another example of a clothing colour - this one worn by very few people: mustard. Not usually very flattering, but a great colour in quilts, whether zinging with hand-dyes or warm with country prints.
I haven't made much for a while, so it was good to be cutting and sewing and pressing and seeing something come together.
One of my Patent Quilt Theories is that it's worthwhile to make sure your quilt colour choices aren't being biased by your clothing colour choices. I don't wear brown much - wore it too much years ago, and only now are a few brown things creeping back into my wardrobe. But in quilts, brown's a great colour.
To give another example of a clothing colour - this one worn by very few people: mustard. Not usually very flattering, but a great colour in quilts, whether zinging with hand-dyes or warm with country prints.
I haven't made much for a while, so it was good to be cutting and sewing and pressing and seeing something come together.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
100 Word Stories, or what is a Drabble?
You may have noticed the microfiction entries here and there in my blog. If you're interested in this idea, the Wikipedia entry on Drabble (a term for fiction of exactly 100 words) may be of use to you.
I'm using the 100 Word Stories blog for my prompts.
Let me know in a comment if you decide to play, so I can read your work.
I'm using the 100 Word Stories blog for my prompts.
Let me know in a comment if you decide to play, so I can read your work.
Winter branches
It's summer here in Australia, of course. And February is one of the most trying months of all, as heat is combined with humidity and you drip through each day, diving into anywhere airconditioned whenever possible, gasping when you go back out into the sticky air. If no aircon, then pretty please an electric fan, just to move the air...
While northern hemisphere bloggers wax wistfully lyrical about summer - and I'm not ungrateful for things like never having to heat up a car engine before using it, or not really owning a winter coat (jacket, yes, coat, no - well, I have the one I take when I go to wintry places) or as the Yarn Harlot wrote of this week, not having a baguette go from warm on purchase to frozen baguettesicle by the time you get it home - I'm not ungrateful. But roll on March.
I've lived in places that get hotter than Sydney, but there's such a difference between dry heat, like an oven, and the jungly enervation of humidity.
Spring and autumn, they're my favourites.
(Yup, this is another photo from years ago. I really will try to document the present day this week...)
While northern hemisphere bloggers wax wistfully lyrical about summer - and I'm not ungrateful for things like never having to heat up a car engine before using it, or not really owning a winter coat (jacket, yes, coat, no - well, I have the one I take when I go to wintry places) or as the Yarn Harlot wrote of this week, not having a baguette go from warm on purchase to frozen baguettesicle by the time you get it home - I'm not ungrateful. But roll on March.
I've lived in places that get hotter than Sydney, but there's such a difference between dry heat, like an oven, and the jungly enervation of humidity.
Spring and autumn, they're my favourites.
(Yup, this is another photo from years ago. I really will try to document the present day this week...)
Friday, February 01, 2008
100 Word Stories: How long has that been sitting there?
I know this room. I’ve known it all my life. This time, although it still has the same furniture – the armchairs with the doyleys over the back, the standard lamp with a ruffled shade, the framed family photographs on the mantelpiece – this time, it’s different.
Yesterday in the church she lived in our words and memories. We said goodbye.
Today (I have a hanky stuffed in my pocket) we’re making choices and decisions. Jojo will take the lamp, Narelle the chairs and sidetables. I want the photos. Look at that one of Grandpa. How long has that been sitting there?
Yesterday in the church she lived in our words and memories. We said goodbye.
Today (I have a hanky stuffed in my pocket) we’re making choices and decisions. Jojo will take the lamp, Narelle the chairs and sidetables. I want the photos. Look at that one of Grandpa. How long has that been sitting there?
Guernsey moon
Yup, still doing long hours at work.
Guernsey, on a summer evening, the moon rising and the twilight making everything beautiful.
I tweaked this photo in software (if you go to my Flickr stream you can see the fixed up version) but I like the misty blueness of this. It's become my memory of that evening, even if the other may be more correct as to how it actually was.
But all these years later, how could one say? So I've blogged the scanned, untweaked one. Just because.
Guernsey, on a summer evening, the moon rising and the twilight making everything beautiful.
I tweaked this photo in software (if you go to my Flickr stream you can see the fixed up version) but I like the misty blueness of this. It's become my memory of that evening, even if the other may be more correct as to how it actually was.
But all these years later, how could one say? So I've blogged the scanned, untweaked one. Just because.
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