As if I didn’t have enough to do, already.

I’m tired.

Dish Pig just got home from 2 weeks States side, and I’m happy to see him (well, you know, until he adds to my mess, and the kids mess. then he’s dead).

He bought me lippy and sunnies, which is fun, and some new fangled gadget for pictures/camera/laptop which will be great WHEN I CAN LOAD STUFF ONTO THE WEBPAGE (hinthint).

I haven’t been sewing so much, too busy washing clothes and watching my baby drag itself around on my filthy floors. I’ll mop them one day. Perhaps by then the baby could do it for me?

I’m going to attempt a rather tricky item for me. Yes me. I’m making something for myself.

this skirt

It is quite tricky, and I reckon I won’t be using the same prints or colours as those on the pattern envelope, going for a more 80s tonal mode.
Also a skirt for Hex and her impending birthday.
I had loony ideas about a handmade xmas (just like the ones we used to know…….lada da.da.da.da……sorry) and have foregone that for the old consumerist style, with grand visions for next year.

I’m drooling over coverstitch machines from babylock, and am very well aware that I have neither the cash, ability, space or dire need for one. Still. It can do scrummy stuff with stretch, and I soooooo want to master the art of stretch. (I could even just poke my toe in the waters before the actual mastery, I suppose.)

New year resolution will be to get blog looking attractive, get mousepocket rolling quicker, and etsy pumping as well.

Anyone got any requests?

{ 2 comments }

I have just recieved my first piece of  interesting election  material. A  letter addressed to me (name spelled correctly,  always a  plus) from the NSW Greens senator Kerry Nettle.

It gives nicely written info, nothing complex or hidden, nothing sneaky. It conlcudes by recommending that in this election it is more worthwhile voting Labor in the house of Reps and Greens in the upper house.

“The Greens will be a positive and progreesive influence on Kevin Rudd’s govt.”

I really like it as a piece of information to the common voter (and lets face it, we all are ) After watching 4 Corners the other week and seeing just how ill informed many Aussies are, its nice to be sent a piece of information that doesn’t smear the other side etc.

So, if anyone is actually reading this, vote in a tactical manner, think about all aspects of parliament and weigh it up accordingly.

(and, keep an eye out for Annabel Crabbe’s footwear, on Worm Night she had a really delicious pair of red mary janes on)

{ 0 comments }

I am hugely jealous of penni and her recent relocation to paradise.

However.

I doubt she is overhearing such splendidly odd conversations as I am, conducted by neighbours and their “dinner guests” and heard thought the loungeroom window.

In fact, they are getting soooooo intriguing (and regular, as in every friday after work) that I almost wish I could use my Foxtel IQ remote to pause the aeroplanes every 3 minutes so I can actually keep up. Some of it is just bog standard bitching about co-workers and old mates and weddings atc, but occasionaly I get a deeper and darker tid bit.

As far as I can tell, there are 2 ladies and a highly camp male. (if you heard him, you would agree I am highly justified in using such a sweeping generalisation) Only one of the ladies lives in the house, with her boyfriend. They grow beautiful bromiliads which have just finished blooming their fuscianess in a hanging basket.

She has a nice collection of 1960’s retro tablecloths. There is a different one hanging on the clothes line every week, and she has pretty orange floral curtains at her kitchen window. These are like an external wallpaper outside our loungerrom window.

Anyway, tonight is a fairly in depth discussion of his subconscious recollection of being “snipped” as a baby, and the dreams which have tormented him since. Everyone’s ideal birth experience (none yet dreaming of being duffed) including his woes at not being able, as a man, to birth. He has described, at length (and possibly with actual demonstrations) his vast collection of tattoos, complete with names and locations of each artist. He has thrown in bits about his piercings and hairdresser.

I’ve had to shut the window now, their laughter and exclaimations have woken Zeph. Again.

I wonder what the topics next Friday will host?

{ 0 comments }

Day Light Savings.  Changeover. Sleeping shifts for kids. Curtains fading faster (hahahahaha). Summer night walks to get the kids chocolate frogs. Gardening after the kids go to bed. Mozzies. Home made cocktails. A bottle of Stella and a salad with beetroot and croutons. Drowning in sweat under the lights over my sewing machines.

Time.

Where does it go? Suddenly it has been 10 years since high school ended, I’ve been married for half a decade and my eldest baby is on the cusp of primary school.

Worse still. Christmas is coming. AGAIN. Didn’t we just do that one? A long hauling of pregnant belly and children to an island off an island off an island. Taxis, plane, hire car, ferry, white Christmas (snow and hail nearby) and the queerest holiday house ever.

This year there are 3 children, NO pregnant belly (YAHOO!) and no stupid idiotic plans to stick any number of us on planes, trains or boats.

But, we have gifting rules which state this year, gifts will be made from things we already have in the house, or that can be consumed. I made those rules up. They sounded really simple at the time, and gave me one of those calm, cocky feelings.
As a gentle reminder I whacked a countdown application on my facebook profile. That was 40 days ago. How much Christmas prep has gone on? Zilch. Except for the ham-roasted-in-stout recipe.

But I did get some energy efficient LED star lights to hang on the house.  Does that count as Christmas? And I know when the Child Care Santa thing is on. And Nikki and I might have discussed going to the local carols again this year. We might not have discussed it actually.

Shockingly, I’m quite off shopping at the moment. The thought of mucking about buying stuff makes me feel sick. But the thought of the speed at which my 29th Christmas approaches makes me sicker still.

{ 0 comments }

Try and dodge them.

Oh jee. I dunno. I’ve spent a decade (yoik!) avoiding most things to do with computers. I’m brill at most bits of surfing the web. I can almost upload pics direct from the camera (except it keeps bloody breaking). I can buy and sell things and track obscurities down from the comfort of my maternity ward bed, or my sewing table or kitchen bench. I can book holidays, arrange driving tests and self diagnose for any illness.

But I can’t do my own graphics, I’m petrified of word and excel and I was really happy about that. Until I actually needed to start doing it. Its like most of high-school maths when you are an arts stream student like me. I never used to see the point in geometry and algebra. Until I started patchwork quilting.

Several times in the last month or so I have plunged into the deep dark recesses of my brain to try and pluck free ancient  pieces of mathematical usefulness. To be precise, I stopped doing maths at high-school in 1995.

Luckily I have a DishPig UberGeek for these things, but a girl yearns for her spreadsheet freedom.

I’m just not sure how to get it.

{ 0 comments }

Can anyone point me in the direction of an attractive, mostly cotton, not black/red/bad floral frock which is suitable for a lady to wear while feeding her baby as nature intended ???

Thought not. I’ve been hunting all day, and I’m sorry, but wrap arounds just won’t do. Nor will 100% shiny polyester with rouching. /me vomits.

I miss dresses. And being the body shape I am, the flogging of the dead horse that is anything hipster is highly unflattering. Anyway, I have much better things to do with my time than pulling my bloody pants up all day. Yeah, I don’t want you to see my undies/bum crack either, and I am fairly aware that I suffer “muffin top”. Now, if you’d care to provide me with an appropriate alternative, I’ll cheerfully refrain from making such fashion faux pas in the public domain.

Yes. High waisted jeans are the thing. Can I have a pair that aren’t stove pipe? And do you have some in a nice solid blue with no bleach marks/wear marks/holes/slashing/dodgy looking white “splash” stain?

So yeah, frocks. I’ve seen the Glamourmum slips, not my thing. I’m thinking nice stretch cotton jersey, pretty bright summer modern print, capped sleeves, v neck, inbuilt support bra which allows for some discreet baby feeding without acres of chest being on display, and ending the whole garment just below the knees.

If you have the solution, send me email. Soon.

{ 1 comment }

So my very lovely lady Nikki has a Special Event to attend this weekend with her husband. It is her first Really Special Event in a  while and coincided with her birthday-ish (hiphiphooray!) so it warranted a bit of frenzied dress and accoutrement procurage. (is that even a word?)

So, after some referral to trinny and susannah and Gok Wan, she made some ebay decisions (the first of which ended in a fit of giggles and muttering along the lines of “RSL pokies room”) and came up with a nice slinky modern take on an Edwardian frock. After some thought, we decided to shorten it to show off her luverly legs and ankles.

Seemed like a reasonable suggestion.

At the time.

Until today when I realised I’ve never actually worked with slinky stretch net, and that I had no black overlocker thread. Ah well, always up for a challenge, and quite frankly, Nik had braved our “pox de chook” quarantine zone, and she was one of the first adults I’d seen in a week. If a woman is that brave, I have to be brave right back.

So, we kicked it off with coffee and scones and then she put on the whole ensemble and did a twirl, nice, but yes, frock too long.

So, I measured vaguely, worked out how much of each layer to hack off before attempting a hem, and we felt quite cheerful (read, cocky) about it all. Now, for those who have hung around patchworkers, or thrifty depression-era types, you’ll have heard the line “Measure twice, cut once.” We certainly have. And we will never forget it again.

So, being cocky, caffeinated, hot and over tired, I just took the length off with my rotary cutter and set about the hem, which worked beautifully.  And it would have stayed so, had Nikki not tried the damn thing on to check we had gotten it right.

We hadn’t. Forgot to leave bloody allowance for her and her bloody magic lifting garments. Dress had gone from long and elegant to short. The words “Gosford Skirt” were snorted in semi amused disgust. There was an awful silence. We went to look at it in another mirror. We put the shoes on. Nope. My teeth gritted and I recalled that bit in my brain which knew darn well how bad I was a hemming things. I blame it on being Aries, far too impatient. Better to pay people at the laundromat. Nikki gritted her teeth and said it was ok, she could buy another one on ebay. Her fingers twitched.

“Sorry Nik. I’ve frocked it up.” grins.

So, hunt for the offcut, halve it, stitch it back on, whip and roll hem. If you look closely, you can see the dodgy bit, but its a black dress, for a night time sit down dinner thing. Phew! I remind Nik to wear really interesting fishnets. Between them and the balconette no one will notice……will they?   Erk. Then for the over layer.

By this point we had eaten lunch, the babies were both asleep, and Zephyr was watching Gardening Australia happily.  This time, given the manufacturers had hemmed this layer wonky style, I decided to hem based on their hem. My reasoning was that then it would be their fault, not mine. The hem required no folding, just overstitching in a nice fluted manner. I started measuring. (we do things in inches often now, mostly i think it is because the numbers are marked in larger font on the tape measure and are easier to read.)

Z:OK. Lets cut 3 inches off and then try it on.
N: Yep. No, I was just thinking. No I dunno what I was thinking. (walks out)                                                                                Z: (follows) Ok, come on, 3 inches That or 5 inches.                                                                                                                           N: OK. (looking indecisive)
Z: Alright, lets leave it to the Universe. We’ll flip for it. (gets 5c coin)
N: What are we calling? (Z flips coin)
Z: Heads 3, Tails 5.
(coin flips to heads)

I then proceeded to measure, chalk, cut, fit.  Too long.
measure, chalk, cut, fit. getting dangerously close.

Hem. twice.

FITS!
A nice sharp kick in the sewing machine. I still have to bead her clutch, but that’s a walk in the park for me.

So, now I might be able to get this last kid over the pox and get on with mousepocket .

{ 1 comment }