the Wise Robin

june :: july days

 

 

 

These wintry days with my three girls are hurrying by

Pumpkins waiting

Knits finished, warm and worn

Moonstone skies & rain....oh the rain, the non-stop rain. Everything is sodden, squelchy & oozy. Mosses glowing green. Naked limbs permanently adorned with liquid jewels.

Lengthening days barely perceptible, gathering momentum, not ready to climb out of this cosy, wintry cocoon

Occasionally the sun. Deep violet, grey skies shine with golden light, contrasted by the stark white of passing cockatoos, the glaucous eucalyptus leaves, a quietness before the rain begins to fall again

Horseriding work, fine art work, exhibitions, prizes, exciting, speeches maybe, scary

Falling down the Outlander rabbit hole 

Travelling northward, home to the Highlands. Crisp air , birthdays, more rain

Southward bound. Home to house guests

Hushed house. Windy & dark. Rain tapping on the roof. Girls sleeping.

When I can't sleep... stolen glimpses of their sleeping bodies, peaceful faces. Such tenderness, sweetness. Climb back into bed, watch the earth turn & the morning light seep in

....to freeze time for a short while and hold this sweetness in my mouth...lingering, savouring, conquering...when the sourness of hurtful words & actions threaten to drown out, wash over, extinguish all that is good

 

 

 

 

to the mountains

 

 

 To the mountains we did go on the weekend! We've had such warm weather the past few weeks that there really wasn't much snow left at all. Mwah. But Mama got her fix of mountain air & Niamh & Zahra got their bonhomme de neige, albeit a little patchy but sweet looking in the end. Niamh carried his carrot nose all the way from home never  letting it leave her sight until it was firmly stuck in his face. His glasses, hat & I suspect eyes & arms were secondhand from all the other melted piles dotted here & there. We tobogganned for a while but ended up walking to the nordic bowl to enjoy the spring sunshine.

My heart is in the mountains. They are what I love more than anything else, more than the seaside, more than the river. The big forests of Mountain Ash, the alpine heath, the gnarled snow gums, the winding climb, the cooler air, the ancient,grounding energy. By the time we wind down the mountain I feel balanced & peaceful.

 I declare that next year is going to be cross country skiing year. I've been wanting to learn for a few seasons now, really since my body's been feeling older & with littles in tow. Spending snow days on my board doesn't hold much appeal anymore. It some odd way it feels like I've grown up, like when you discover certain types of music now hurts your ears. 

Everyday since we put our feet firmly back on the river flats Niamh's been asking to go to the snow and hauling out bits and bobs from the piles of snow gear I've yet to put away.

 

 

 

 

wintershine

 

 

Cold days, cold nights. Low, grey skies all day, then the most glorious winter sunshine filled, blue sky, want to close my eyes, lift my chin, see the golden orange through my eyelids kind of days. They're shiny these days. Everything has a brilliance, a kind of glary radiance that makes  everyone, every tree, every flower, every tiny bird smile. These days are good. We head outside, the girls climb and dig and cuddle chooks. Mama makes kale chips & popcorn & piles of pumpkin soup for another Mama with a new baby. The wintersweet is blooming. Tiny flowers on bare branches. Zahra brings some inside and fills the house with its amazing scent. I finish Niamh's Petites Feuilles Vest and cast on a hat meant for a seven week old but big enough to fit my nearly ten year old. I need fingering weight but only have DK & want to keep my hands busy after finishing the vest. I have Ramona on my mind, constantly. She's been on my mind for nearly two years now, ever since I was gifted enough wool for that then birthday. But I can't seem to commit. I've even swatched, something I almost never do. I keep finding myself looking at other patterns. I've watched Alicia with her Ramona. I get enthused...then cast on another hat instead. She was going to be my project, the project this winter. Little knits are so enticing. I've not knit anything for myself on this scale before. I think I'm terrified of spending all this time on her only to find we don't fit well together. Oh, Ramona.

Crunching up to the chook yard this morning through the frosty grass, the family of red cheeked wattlebirds, or honey birds as Niamh calls them, watches me. I break the ice on the girls' water bowl & throw them some grain. They're eager only for the warming corn, leaving the wheat and peas for later. Funny old biddies, our girls. They're nearing nine years old, being two of the original batch Zahra & I raised when she was only a toddling two year old. It's the first winter they've spent most of their days in the chook house, coming out only to eat. They're inseparable, doing everything together. If one lags behind or finds a tasty morsel they call out for the other to hurry up, come see. They're rising earlier & roosting later this past week. Perhaps we'll have eggs again soon ( Clothilde still lays in the warmer weather despite being considered a geriatric in the poultry world). This is the spring to add some new gals to the mix I think. That will test their apple cart! I'm eager to get out in the garden. This is the month for brassicas, leeks, spring onions, snow peas & salad greens. Looking out the window at the white, frost covered mulch in the veggie patch is a little off putting for the moment. The garlic I planted in late autumn is going strong. We've just about run out of last years harvest, 97 head. This year I planted more than 160, hoping it will be enough for an entire year.

We've dived, or rather eased ourselves into third term. Always the hardest I find, for everyone. Energies are still drawn inward even though we can feel the birds & garden & bush start to bustle with the coming spring. Bulbs are flowering,  blossoms are blooming on the Japanese plum, the birds are starting to call in the wee hours again. Before we know it the social bird calendar will be in full swing & we'll be lying in bed with their morning song ringing around our little valley. 

Yesterday I took Zahra north to spend five days with her Meme. Today was very quiet without her. Niamh & I walked Kaya down the road, stopping to look at every ant & crack in the pavement. We painted. Niamh danced. I built her a train track & reassembled it's bridge innumerable times. I moved wood. Niamh jumped on the trampoline. We drew with chalk. We ate. We cuddled. I knit. Niamh watched Maisy. I did laundry & cooked dinner. I had no adult conversation all day until William got home around three. Sometimes I think motherhood is very isolating. Rewarding, but isolating. And then I went horseriding, my most very favourite part of every week. And now I am exhausted, ready for the weekend. 

 

 

 

 

 

book basket | winter

 

 

 

Putting aside the fact that it's been warm enough for the girls to be outside without beanies and shoes the last few days & there's still no snow on the mountains (queue sigh), winter is when we really cosy up and dig through our books. While we're always on the lookout for new reads a seasonal book basket is a great way to remind us of our old favourites. Each year I add a few books to each seasonal basket to keep things fresh. This winter in our book basket we have the oldies but goodies...

 

Winter Poems selected by Barbara Rogasky

The Return of Light : Twelve Tales from Around the World for the Winter Solstice by Carolyn McVickar Edwards

Snowflake Bentley by Jacqueline Briggs Martin

The Tomten by Astrid Lindgren

The Tomten & the Fox by Astrid Lindgren

Ollie's Ski Trip by Elsa Beskow

Winter by Gerda Muller

The Story of the Snow Children by Sibylle von Olfers

Flower Fairies of the Winter by CM Barker

Winter Awake by Linda Kroll

The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Extra Yarn by Mac Barnett

Running with the Horses by Alison Lester

A Book of Winter by Il Sung Na ( has been renamed as Snow Rabbit, Spring Rabbit: A Book of Changing Seasons)

Brambly Hedge: Winter Story by Jill Barklem

Houndsley & Catina & the Quiet Time by James Howe

 

...and some new reads...

 

Children of the Northlights by Ingri & Edgar Parin D'Aulaire

Frog, Bee & Snail Look for Snow by Loek Koopmans

East of the Sun, West of the Moon by Jackie Morris. We also have  The Susanna Davidson version too.

The Greatest Skating Race by Louise Borden

Twelve Kinds of Ice  by Ellen Bryan Obed

May B by Caroline Starr Rose

Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Brink

The Bears of Hemlock Mountain by Alice Dalgliesh

 

Always on the lookout for new and exciting reads I'd love to know what you are reading this winter?

 

 

 

 

make

 

 

Here are a couple of this week's creations. Every year I like to add something different to our seasonal table. Now our winter gnomes have a fire to warm their toes by & dance around. A Nordic rather than Australian themed tree adds to our snowy theme. We keep a nature table as well, filled with bits & bobs from the bush & garden to reflect our southern seasons. Oh, but I do so love snow & the idealised images it conjures in my mind...hot chocolate, skating, quiet snow falls, layers of wool, snow laden fir trees, white landscapes, cosy cabins, log fires....

 

 

 

 

midwinter make

 

 

Just popping in quickly with my weekend makes.

I made my first knitted pocket! With a little who has just discovered pockets & wonders why there aren't pockets on all of her clothing I think there'll be a whole heap of pockets in my future. The very sweet pattern is the Petites Feuilles Vest. 

Secondly, that's me playing around with Zahra's watercolours. With a lot of picture books on our shelves I find I'm always drawn to those with watercolour illustrations...Freya Blackwood, Julie Vivas & Anna Walker are among my favourite illustrators. 

And not forgetting all the little things I made...beds, my girls hair, pancakes, clean laundry, midwinter intentions, connections with friends, images, s'mores, a couple of new recipes....

Happy Midwinter 

 

 

 

 

taking stock | june

 

 

It's been a rainy few days, steady & soaking. Just the thing for cozying up indoors with a cup of tea & taking stock.

making paper cut snowflakes

cooking 'garlic soup' with Niamh in her play kitchen

drinking water, water & more water

reading a knitting pattern

wanting my own horse...since I was four ( my birthday is coming up!)

looking for any signs of garlic sprouting in the garden

playing dead fish. My favourite game with the girls. Mama gets to lie still with her eyes closed for a few minutes

deciding what to feed the kids next

wishing the possums would stop playing on the roof

enjoying this steady rain

waiting for William's latest round of night shift to end

liking these dark, wintry, rainy days

wondering if I should go knit in bed

loving a friend's home baked spelt, buckwheat, walnut & pepita bread

pondering what to get William for his birthday

considering buying him the cycling gear he wants. What's a cassette?

buying new tyres for the car

watching the raindrops hang like earrings from the bare branches

hoping it stops raining by Friday

marvelling at how much my kids eat

cringing at my level of fitness

needing a personal trainer

questioning whether or not I planted enough garlic

smelling something funky in my fridge

wearing layers of wool to keep warm

noticing how many different honeyeaters are visiting our garden this winter

knowing that this rain means snow is falling in the mountains

thinking I'd like to learn how to cross-country ski

admiring a pair of boots in my local store

sorting a basket of odds & ends just like that last box of 'stuff' you end up with when you move house

disliking sibling rivalry

opening a dictionary to find out what a 'frottage' is ( in an art context)

giggling because I'm sooo tired

feeling very tired after a lovely late night with a dear friend

snacking on mandarins & chocolate

helping the dog out the door to stretch her legs. It's raining & she'd rather be in bed

hearing the rain drip dropping

 

 

Want to take stock too? Head over to Pip's for the taking stock list. Thanks Pip.

 

 

 

 

earth & sky

 

 

 

My new years resolution of slow & simple has really taken hold of me. At first I had to really push myself out of a busy is good, always doing frame of mind, a forced unwind & reboot of sorts. Then I let go of a few things like spending time here in this little space in favour of reading a book or an early bed time. At first it was difficult. A nagging, guilty feeling that I was meant to be doing something else, but that feeling eventually subsided and I now find myself in a place where I'm actually finding it hard to get anything done. It seems that nothing is pressing anymore, or at least that pressing feeling has all but vanished and I am left wondering if I'm now too ambivalent about the world and all it's happenings whizzing by around me. It doesn't just extend to the world outside my doorstep but my own little world with it's own dreams & projects, the knitting, this space, those new sewing patterns looking back at me still unopened, the garden, whose winter planting window I've missed again, save for the garlic. Perhaps it's the season. The earth is damp & cold now, the last of autumn's golden crowns sodden in the grass. The sky is brilliant with winter light, moonstone white or a crisp blue, both with their own kind of glare. The earth energy is heavy and slow. I think I could easily live the life of a hermit. I do miss all the doing but also love the not doing. The dog seems more than content to 'not do', apart from going for a daily walk, which I have been managing to squeeze  in amidst all my slow & simple. We've been heading back into the bush. Zahra collecting platters of bush treasures while I amble along waiting for Niamh, who also is a  master of slow & simple, especially when we need to get somewhere on time. The un-peeling of busy layers seems to have left me, dare I say, unmotivated to do much of anything other than the essentials to keep family life ticking along smoothly. I feel resigned, a given in kind of feeling & I don't know what to make of it. Is this a good thing or no? Perhaps it's neither, just different.  

 

 

 

the warmest of winter days

 

 

I had this post almost ready to go then Zahra broke her arm & the days were filled with tag teaming at the hospital, squeaky, fold out hospital beds, small pockets of sleep, convalescing & general catching up on life. We're out of the bubble now & enjoying the warmest of winter days. 

 In between the driving rain & icy blasts off the hills this past week, there have been inklings here & there of spring. The air is soft & the breezes warm. The days are lighter, brighter, longer & just more springy. I can feel the rustlings of the garden, the energy quickening, all the plants rumbling & teetering on the edge of erupting. I have been busy out in the garden clearing away the last of the apple tree prunings & doing a bit of yard spring cleaning. It feels almost ready for long, lazy afternoons in the sun beneath the apple tree, listening to the bees buzzing the blossoms & dinner on a blanket outdoors. Today I saw a maggie with a beak full of dog fur & a determined look in it's eye. William said he's been smacked on the head outside St.Pats by the same maggie for the past week. Our resident maggie family haven't started swooping but there was a territorial tussle in our backyard just yesterday.  Even though snow fell down to five hundred metres & it didn't climb above ten degrees yesterday, spring is gently elbowing her way in little by little. I think I've almost given up on finishing my flanelette lap quilt for this winter. I'm missing one last fabric that will finish all the strips & I've still got to get a start on but I have got a start on Miss Juniper Kitty for my big girl, who turns nine on the the first calender day of Spring! 

At two o'clock this morning Kaya woke me to be let out.  I stood outside in the one degree air, bare feet on the concrete step, looking up at the winter sky. It was deep & clear & filled with endless stars. Then we turned back inside and padded softly back to our warm beds, the piles of quilts, the flanelette sheets, William's warmth, the darkness & cold air breathing in through the just open window.  Last weekend  A few weekends back we made wood fired pizza at Libby's, eating outdoors, occassionally warming backsides & hands by the fire when the air got chilly. Potato & fresh thyme, cheesy mushroom, margherita. Jonquils on the table, the girls pottering in the garden. Heading home across town with a basket of lemons & cuttings. Soon we'll be in that transition time between seasons. Sun shining outside, warm air on bare arms & feet, while inside the house is cold & the heat stays on until the blossoms have finished & it's almost time to swim. Happy last days of the season wherever you may be.

 

 

snow day adventure

 

 

 

What an adventure we had on the weekend in the SNOOOOOOWWWW! I looove snow. I wait for it all year. I fantasise about it in the scorching summer heat. I severely crush on northern hemisphere blogs in January & just genereally pine for snow. I don't know what it is about the stuff. Maybe it's the way it sparkles. Maybe it's the way it transforms the landscape. Maybe it's the fun you can have in it. I'm sure all you northern hemispherers who live in snow for half the year think I'm crazy & yes I've never experienced a blizzard, but oh, it's just magical to me. We headed up the Ovens Valley to Mt Buffalo for a day of toboganning. It had snowed all day Friday, so we arrived to find fresh, dry powder. The sun was shining & it was a balmy ten degrees. We flew down the mountain on our pieces of coloured plastic, built a snowman, threw snowballs, drank hot tea, absorbed our daily dose of high altitude Vitamin D & fell in a heap of happy exhausted. I even got a snowboard run in. The girls had a ball but the wheels fell off as the sun started sinking & the temperature dropped. We filled our bellies, dried off, changed into warm gear & piled in ready for the trip back down the mountain. Only thing was the car woudn't start. "Come on Violet " we all chanted { I have a habit of naming cars... Sophie, Sylvie, Pauline, Veronica, Francesca, Will's car Connie & now our old Volvo, Violet, named by Zahra}. People are leaving & the car park is now shadowed by the hill behind us as Will asks around for jumper leads. Meanwhile I run into an old friend. Small world. We chat while Will finds some leads & we get a jump. Hooray. We pull out of the carpark & start off up the road. Only, onaproblem. Foot to the floor & no power. Hmmm.  No phone reception. Hmmm. It's now zero degrees. Hmmm. Will parks in the last of the sun while I head back to the carpark to catch up with the ranger who has just pulled in.  By now the carpark has emptied  except for a few last stragglers. We chat about our predicament & the falling temperature & the screaming baby in the backseat & the lack of phone reception. Best thing we decide is to keep the car running back in the carpark while we make an RACV ranger radio call. Will needs his wallet for that, which incidentally we can't find. We turn the car upside down while trying to keep the heat in. Bless those Swedish cottonsocks, they sure know how to make great car heaters. One ransacked car later & Will finds his wallet where he'd put it, ya know, to keep it safe! One phone call later & there'll be no help till tomorrow. Abandon ship is the verdict. Will & ranger Scotty head off to the office while I stay with the girls, car running, heater blasting, sun sinking, carpark emptied. We wait, we sing, we watch the sun change colours on the tors. We talk about what an adventure this is & how everything is going to be ok as the sky turns pink & lavender then indigo & finally black. Eventually Scott returns with his car. We say goodbye to Violet as the temperature hits minus three. Scott takes us back to his house where there's a wood fire. We rotisserie ourselves until we're thawed & chat about our options. We decide to phone a friend. It's agreed. We'll leave Violet, get the girls home & Will will come back for her tomorrow with a tow. So we wait. We eat the last of our scroggin & soup. I completely forget about the whole baked cake in the bottom of the bag while Niamh eyes off Scott's lamb casserole, pointing at it with her egg flip, which she found in one of his drawers. Poor guy. It was the last day of his work rotation & he was down to his last meal. Boy it smelt good. We follow Niamh around trying to keep her little, overtired self out of mischief while Zahra watches out the window. Just when everyone was really starting to hit the wall, our dearest of dear friend turns up. There were quick goodbyes & many thankyous then off we pile into the next vehicle. I suggest we head back to get the last of our gear out of Violet & perhaps one more try of the engine, you just never know. She blasts into life, hah, of course. The temperature gauge now reads minus five. William takes Violet & the rest of us follow down the mountain. Niamh fell asleep the moment we left ranger Scotty's & Zahra wasn't far behind as we headed for home. We arrived just before midnight, bundled the girls into bed & pondered our snow adventure over a chamomile. My heart is always overwhelmed by the kindness of friends & complete strangers. While waiting up there in the carpark Zahra asked anxiously "Are we going to be ok Mama? Will I get to sleep in my own bed tonigh? "  " Yes, baby girl, we're gonna be fine. People help each other, the world is full of kindness".  A big, big heartfelt thankyou to Kim & Scotty & those kind strangers in the parking lot who lent a hand. We are incredibly grateful. It could have turned out so differently, but we ended our snow day tucked up in our own beds. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

july billows

 

 

 

 

Oh July! Month of birthdays & snowfalls, lengthening days & ripening goodness, you are good to us in all your big, billowing, brightness. The days are noticeably lighter & longer already, only one month on from midwinter. When we wake the sun is already peeping through the fog & the trees & the day feels long begun before Niamh is calling " Mama, Mamaaaa, Mama, Eeeyam, Eeeyam." We lift the blinds and stand looking out into the day, the treetops. "Good morning my sweet, good morning sparrows. William's not here, he's at work. What shall we do today?" Our big girl has been back from her adventures a week already, with so much to tell us of where she's been & what she's been up to. I finished her room in time & didn't let on. Just let her rediscover it. I think her little nook turned out really well. After I'd painted the bookshelf I got to thinking that I should have left it bare, but once the shelves were filled with all her books & precious treasures my mind was more satisfied. She was over the moon. At times I didn't know where she was, calling outside for her & there she would be, quietly snuggled in her nook reading the next Silver Brumby book or cutting & sewing another fairy quilt or playing with her horses. I think all it needs now is something on the wall. We've been looking at these and these. So lovely. We've had a busy week, bustling to & from ballet rehearsals for the big show on the weekend. It was full of crazy goodness, lots of fun & excitement, butterflies flying around our tummies, ballet ribbons on shoes at the last minute, hair pins & chiffon, lemon yellow, too small dressing rooms & too loud stage music. We came away utterly exhausted & famished. We had take out sushi and sank into a hot bath. I'm so proud of her. The house has that fullness again that feels just right. It's so good having her home.

Even though the days are warming we're still having soups every other night & fingers crossed, we'll be up in the snow this weekend! There are supposed to be more snowfalls this week. I've finally finished all the pruning & our yard is now full of apple branches & rose clippings. The lawn is on the move again & soon we'll have homegrown broccoli in our bellies. I think I'll try and put in another round of caulies & broccoli before the season ends. Then there's the chook run which I'm still brainstorming over & the flannelette lap quilt which is waiting to be be sandwiched. I can feel the energies of the season shifting ever so slightly & I don't feel ready. I feel like I have just sunk deliciously into the cold days & rosy lamplight & now, now I can feel the clambering beginning. All my winter projects which need their loose ends tied before the snow melts. At least the cardi that was finished, then wasn't finished because the sleeves dangled past her fingertips is now finished after being frogged and reknitted. Welcome home baby girl. We'll miss you July!

 

 

 

 

there & back

 

 

 

Awgh, what a week it's been. Saying goodbye to my big girl as she headed off on her own adventures & getting to spend some quiet time with my little sweetpea Niamh. With William at work all week it was just the two of us girls. Slidng into a lovely routine filled with baking & stories, window watching & knitting, mama's catch up list & nap time. We walked & ate good food, chatted to the birds in the garden & really just had a wonderful slow week together.  Looking back at my list of to do's I can say that just about every one of them is crossed off. I didn't get a start on Miss Juniper Kitty but I did cast off Zahra's cardi. It's blocking as we speak. I'm really happy with it. As I was knitting along with Le Tour every evening I would stop occassionally and just look at it, hardly believing that I had knit it. If you had shown me this pattern three years ago, when I seriously decided to give knitting a go, I would have laughed out loud. I would never have thought I'd be able to knit something like that & here I am, still gobsmacked that I was able to follow a lace chart, albeit in complete silence, in a room by myself. It was one of those things I thought was going to be really hard & painful & long, so I put it off & put it off & then it turns out not at all difficult or painful & even...fun. So that's that & now I feel like I can conquer any knitting challenge. 

As we drove north we listened to The Silver Brumby audiobook. I loved reading this series as a kid. It fuelled my insatiable appetite for anything remotely horsey. High country, snow, mountains, the bush, wilderness & brumbies all rolled into one. I remember driving over Charlotte's Pass on a family holiday & being completely mesmerised by the mountains and the patchy summer snow, hoping with all my heart that I'd get to see a brumby. There was no brumby that day but years later when I was working up at Thredbo one summer, as we passed over Dead Horse Gap, there in a small clearing just off the road, was a wild horse. Small & dark, long tangled mane & tail, watching us quietly as we drove by. That was a special day.

It rained for most of the drive home, big puffy clouds filling the sky. I've travelled this road north & south more times than I can count over the past fifteen years & every time I come to the same bend in the road or the same hill or the same paddock, where the landscape just opens up before me & I can see the mountains & the last of the southwest slopes, I'm blown away, left quiet by how beautiful it all is. Just sliding over the land completely captivated.

Returning a week later all I could think about was giving my girl a big hug & that vanilla almond cake. It was everything I'd dreamed of & the two cakes that I'd baked were way off the mark. This one I do believe had coconut in it, giving it that denseness that I was craving & making it all chewy & so good. I'm gonna try again & see what I come up with. We had a wonderful birthday lunch for my Mum & me, thirty six! Then it was off again in opposite directions, The Silver Brumby starting up from where we left off. There & back home again.

 

 

 

vanilla snow

 

 

We had our first clear view of the snow this week! It's been flurrying up in the those mountains for the past three weeks, dusting them in powdery white much like the icing sugar on the vanilla almond cake I've been trying to make. We're excited about the snow & think we'll head up the mountain very soon.  Zahra is spending the week up north with her Meme. We did a halfway stop & swap last Sunday at Jugiong's Long Track Pantry. I was too full up after my lunch to have any, but their vanilla almond cake caught my eye. It looked dense & moist & delicious. All this week I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. So I googled and found a tonne of recipes. I looked at the pictures mainly to find something that looked like the Jugiong cake. I need to see a picture of a recipe to entice me to make it.  Just the recipe doesn't really work for me. I'm a bit the same with novels. I get sucked in by the cover. I only have one cookbook on my shelf that doesn't have pictures & I do make things out of it, but that book sat on my wishlist for a loooong time before it made it to my shelf. I ended up trying two vanilla almond recipes. The first was delicious but very light and fluffy. I was really wanting something with weight, like an orange & almond cake or like those almond finger biscuit things you buy in the tiny, tiny continental section of the supermarket. The sort of cake that gets more moist the second day. So I tried another and although it was more dense & had the flavour I was craving it was too dry. Think I'll make the same one again & take it out sooner.  I've been super organised, except for today, with meals. Getting everything ready while Niamh naps in the afternoon. We've been doing a two course thing {sometimes three, when there's dessert}, ever since soup season started. Lately it's been cauilflower, or leek & potato or broccoli. I make a big, big pot. Enough for dinner, lunch the next day and some for the freezer.  Having a variety of soups in the freezer makes a huge difference to the busy end of the day.

So I've got a list of things I want to get done this week. One of which was to paint some shelves and do a little make-over on Zahra's room before she comes home Sunday. Two coats down, one to go.  I've crossed a lot of other jobs off already but I kind of ran out of steam today and just flopped. Niamh & I cosied on the couch & read & watched the crazy weather outside while the second cake baked. Sunshine, hail, dark grey clouds, heavy rain, sunshine, sun shower, gusty wind, more hail, more sunshine. We've had some beautiful days but mainly the lamps are turned on first thing & stay on most of the day. After William goes to work and Niamh wakes I lift the blinds & we lie in bed listenig to the birds, looking out into the dark, watching as the shapes of the trees become defined & the day begins. She runs off & brings me my uggies when she's ready to get up & eat. " Mama ooos, ooos " she says as she pushes them up on the bed. Oh my sweetpea chickadee. We have toast & oatmeal, eggs, always eggs. This girl loves her eggs. She potters while I get the laundry on or tidy up a little, then it's naptime & I hit my list like a willy-willy. One thing going on over here then I change direction & there's another thing going on over there. Paint, wool, homeschool prep, cooking. Tick, tick, almost tick. Onto the next thing. No time to stop until I hear her chirping from the bedroom. "Hello again my love, you've had a wonderful rest". We go to the window & say hello to all the birds, the passers-by & the digger over the way through the trees.  We eat & play & read some more & if the weather's all sunshine we rug up & head outdoors. Then it's back inside, hands & noses chilled, back into the warm for some more window watching. Then it's naptime again & off I go whirling crazily through the house. Oh how I've loved this quiet week. One on one time with Niamh, talking to my big girl every day, missing her, looking forward to that cake on Sunday, dreaming of snow days. 

 

 

 

odd bod days & cauliflower soup

There's a pumpkin roasting in the oven, one baby girl is asleep & my big girl is at the theatre. The house is all quiet & warm. Patchy blue is starting to peek through the thick fog that we've been having for the past few days. It shrowds the town, our street, the house by five o'clock in the evening, making everything quietly slow, thick like butter, & delciously warm inside. I remembered I'd left the pram outside just as I was drifting off to sleep last night. Out of a warm bed & into my wellies I hopped, down the side of the house. The sky all aglow like a big softbox with the streetlights & low cloud. The pram, my scarf & mitts all damp. Back inside & into a warm bed. Felt so good. Niamh & I walked up the hill & into the bush this morning. We could hear the town noises below. Traffic, lawnmowers, all the neighbourhood renovations going on & we were up in this floaty whiteness, worlds away. Everything  drips with the damp air.  Birds sing but we can't see them. Ibis fly low over our heads with a whooshing of wings, hugging the treeline for navigation. The pea soup clears by lunchtime & then we have the most glorious few hours of sunshine. Such a mix of odd bod days. Winter & lingering autumn & then the feeling of almost spring. There are jonquils flowering already & small, sweet apples on our tree. That's never happened before. The birds & coddling moth usually get them. We've been slowly pruning our big, old tree back so it's a manageable size to net. Then there'll be apple pie & crumble. I always feel sad for some reason after pruning big trees, unless it's a privet. It's like their personality changes & they become unbalanced for a time until they've grown into their new look. The altered skyline takes a while for me to settle into. It was funny watching the girls settle up there to roost for the night, looking around for familiar branches, working out a new roosting routine. Who perches next to who, who sits the highest. Matilda was all settled, then Clothilde kinda moved on in, slowly shoving & pecking her way to where she wanted to be. 

We've been walking around the neighbourhood in the mornings admiring all the gardens and the seasonal changes. I love how the nakedness of winter lets you peek into nooks and crannies, see views that are otherwise obscured by the green of spring and summer. Mushrooms and moss, withering seed heads and plump buds ready to burst when spring arrives. There's a currawong sittng outside the window scoffing the purple privet berries. His beady yellow eyes see me as I move to get my camera and he's gone. The currawongs call all day in their dipping voices. There seem to be more of them this year, have you noticed that too?  Now, cauliflower soup. Doesn't sound that appealing but oh my stars. It is so simple & crazy good. All creamy & more-ish. I know there's a pic up there of leeks because we made leek and potato soup too, but the cauliflower is much, much better. 

 

800g cauliflower florets

600ml water, more or less deending on how thick you like it

100-200g speck or smoked bacon

1 tbsp butter

salt & pepper to taste

 

Place water, cauliflower and seasoning into a pot. Bring to a boil then simmer gently until the cauliflower is cooked. While the cauliflower is simmering fry up the bacon. When cauliflower is soft add the butter and bacon. Blend until smooth. Serve with a sprinkling of parmesan.

 

 

 

 

 

rain & shine

 

 

My head is all a whirl today. I tried to make mayonnaise, twice. First time I used the wrong oil and it tasted yucky. Second time I couldn't get the thing to emulsify. Oh, I don't like it when I waste eggs. We eat so many of them, they are precious things. Mrs Dietz, my highschool food tech teacher would be proud that I know the word emulsify, but most dissatisfied that I'd wasted two whole eggs. We were so heavily rationed in those classes. Two beans each and half a sausage when we were learning the meat and three veg routine. Her budget must have been teensy tiny. The dog ate the first batch and is sleeping peacefully over the heat vent now. We ate the thin one, drizzled over a tuna salad. It tasted fine, just wasn't thick and creamy how I like it. Anyway, the whirly head is due to househunting. We drove out to Stanley to look at a house on the weekend in the most atrocious weather, you know driving rain, snow predicted down to eight hundred metres ( oh please, yes), bitterly cold. It felt good, the house I mean. She had good bones, needed work, but good bones. Two of our dearest friends are living in it at the moment & would end up being our neighbour. But oh, what to do. I'm totally grasping in the dark when it comes to real estate & renovating, how much these things cost. My only experience being Grand Design re-runs & they always go over budget by hundreds of thousands of pounds. It's a whole new world for me, us. I feel completely blind, terrified & excited too. On the way out there, amid the stormy weather, a rainbow followed us down the valley. Is it a sign?

We made it down to the river on the weekend. It was all sunshine and blustery. Zahra made a fairy house in the river bank and Kaya splashed at the water's edge. She doesn't get out much these days, spends most of her retirement sleeping.  But she still adores the river. She's a river dog through & through. I remember when you could throw a stick for her, right into the current and she'd be after it in a flash, drifting downstream, out of sight. Then a little while later she'd come back with the stick, all fluffy from shaking out her coat, & do it all over again. She won't go out into the current anymore, even if you do throw a ball or stick. She just stands on the shore, watching it float away. Sweet, old girl. 

 

 

 

snow days

 

 

 

Everything is saggy & drooping from all the rain we've had the past week. Vivid greens and plum purples. Trees dotted with the last yellows of Autumn leaves or heavy with citrus. Every house I've called home in this town has had a citrus tree of one sort or another, usually a lemon. This garden has lemons, mandarins & oranges. There's good years & not so good years with the fruit. This year is a good-un'. Mandarins galore that are sweet and juicy, icy cold straight from the tree. The orange tree doesn't get enough sun to fully ripen the oranges but they're good for juicing & the orange blossoms, oh my stars, pretty and wafty with fragrance. It's perfect how nature knows what time of year we all need a burst of Vitamin C , no scurvy in this house, no siree.  Now that we're officially on holidays, hip hip hooray, we've been mooching in our pyjamas, reading, dashing out to feed the chooks & pick mandarins, baking cinnamon, vanilla cakes, building more fairy houses & listening to the dipping calls of the currawongs. There seem to be masses of them this year, eating the lilly pillies and the small fruit off the neighbour's tree. The bare branches all lacy, silhouetted against the stormy sky. It's been snowing all week up in the mountains. We've yet to catch a glimpse of those white peaks, the valley all clouded in, but we're excited just knowing it's been falling. I love snow. The quietness of it. The way it transforms the landscape. I think it's magical stuff and dream of living  one day where I'm right in it, all winter. I remember waking up as a kid, hoping every morning with all my heart that it had snowed during the night. I remember the cat running crazy circles in the garden, tail all fluffed out, all tiptoes in the snow & my sister & me skating down the icy driveway in our school shoes. It just doesn't feel like a proper winter to me until it has snowed. Such pretty days, cold, but oh so pretty.

 

 

bright & blue

 

 

 

Where did the last seven days go? A blur of driving rain, wind, sunshine, icy blasts from the mountains, snowfall, the drip, drip, dripping of rain off the leaves in the dawn light. It's only been a week since solstice but I swear I can see that extra, little skerrick of light in the sky come sundown. Exciting, yes, but sad too. I've just setled into a nice winter routine of soups & lamplight, candles & quilts & it feels like it will be spring & daylight savings & summer heat before we know it. But right now, it's glorious. I love this weather. Keeps one feeling alive through the dark months.

I hope you all had a lovely solstice. We had a wonderful weekend. Watching the sun rise, all flaming orange in a clear sky, a quiet day baking potatoes, building our fire, hanging lanterns, writing down our heart's intentions for the coming months. When our bellies were full of jacket taties & marshmallows, the girls all tucked up in bed, Will & I stood out back, the fire all mellow, watching the stars. So beautiful. Our tin can luminaries worked a treat. A few people have asked what we fill our cans with so you can hammer the holes without the can buckling. We simply fill ours with water & freeze them overnight. I found working from the opening of the can downwards when punching holes works best as the ice begins to thaw a little & the top layer of ice gets chipped out with the hammering. We drew some designs on paper that fit around the can & stuck them on so we could follow the design lines while punching holes, but the paper just went all soggy & the lines went all smudgy. Next time I would draw the design on first with a waterproof marker before freezing the can.  There are stacks of printable designs out there. We used this one & this one, as well as making up some of our own. They look so pretty in the dark with the glow reflecting on the tree branches. We're going to leave ours out in the weather to rust up.

The following day we drove to a friend's farm to enjoy another fire, good company, a bright & blue sunset, yummy soup, & a spiral lantern walk in the paddock with the kids. It really was just a wonderful, wonderful weekend. The smell of woodsmoke in the woolens airing on the deck, intentions floating purposefully out there, warm beds to hop into. 

 

 

 

moonstone sky

 

 

 

 

We've had a mix of sunny days & puffy clouds this week but mostly we've had moonstone skies. Niamh has started sleeping unitl eight but my body clock seems set now for five thirty. I get up before the girls and light the table candles, fill the house with the warm glow of the lamps. Outside the dawn light lasts unitl just before eight. I feel like I've finally embraced Winter for this year. It took a while to let go of Autumn but I'm really getting into the darkness & rain, the cold & grey. They make for a good excuse to stay indoors & drink tea under piles of quilts, read & bake. Zahra and I just finished The King of Ireland's Son, wow, what a great read. We talked and talked about it, had to go back over the plot to find out how he was related to her and what she was doing then, a real twisty, complex tale, like a celtic knot. We baked Great, Great, Great Grandmother's Lemon Syrup Cake from this cookbook. I've never had success with syrup cakes, the syrup always just running off & pooling in the pan. But this, this has changed my take on lemon syrup cake forever. No pooling, just moist, syrupy, lemony cake. The garden is chugging along. How anything grows or moves faster than a snail in this weather has got me. The only thing I seem to move quickly for is more lemon syrup cake.

The wintersweet is blooming at last in all it's understated beauty. Ours is tucked away in a dark corner of the yard under a giant Jacaranda. The tiny flowers have such a strong fragrance. Kind of  a spicy, jasmine, ylang, ylangy sort of scent. The first year we moved in here I spent the entire Winter taking in wafts of it's perfume and not knowing that it was this quiet, unassuming, shrub over there beneath the evergreens. Like when you find out that the quiet kid at school has this amazing talent no-one ever knew of before. Every Winter now we watch the buds until they pop, but it's usually our noses that tell us before our eyes.  It's chugging kind of weather, slow and steady. I'm chugging along with my flanelette, lap quilt & Granny's Favourite. We made Solstice beeswax candles and tin can lanterns for tomorrow. I can't tell you how much I look forward to Winter Solstice . Watching the sunrise & lighting the fire to burn last year's solstice tree, filling the house with candle light, the smell of pine & sage & woodsmoke, the beeswax figures Zahra makes for the Solstice cave, hot chocolate & toasted marshmallows, thinking about what we're letting go of and what we want to bring into our lives. Kind of like how Christmas should be in my mind...dark & cold, snow on the mountains, candlelight in the windows. I guess that's why people celebrate Christmas in July. 

Wishing you all a peaceful Solstice, be it Summer or Winter, from all of us here in the house on the hill.

 

 

 

silverlight.sunlight

 

 

This past week has been filled with the silverlight of cloudy days. Waking to the sound of dripping leaves and the road spray off passing cars. I love waking in the night or early morning and hearing those sounds. It's comforting like the those familiar childhood noises. The white noise of Mum's clothes dryer ticking away late at night or the soft muffled voices of Mum and Dad talking in bed.  The sound of freight trains shunting in the dark hours of early morning was my favourite, reassuring me that someone else was awake too. Nothing is better than those sounds especially when the house is all quiet and dark, the girls asleep and I'm tucked up warm and toasty under the quilt. I've been embracing the darker days this week, turning on lamps during the day and lighting candles. Filling the house with a warming glow. There's been  hot baths by candlelight, oils with peppery, cinnamon, citrus, winter scents burning and soups. We've had mostly drizzly, misty rain which terrifies the dog. Any sort of wet weather has this old girl scritch scratching at the back door to be let in after she's dashed out briefly to check the compost and chicken scraps. She gets a bit twitchy when she sees scraps heading out the door to the girls and pretends she needs  to go out, returning with a dirty nose, rounder belly and a quiet air of satisfaction. Job done she heads back to bed. 

Just when we think we're due for another cold and rainy day the twilight turns all pink and fluffy, like the rosy glow when it snows and then the sun peeks around the blind in the morning. The girls stand huddled on dry ground in a patch of dappled light, preening and much happier that they don't have to face another day of wet foraging. Everything glistens and glows. We head out, pick mandarins, eat mandarins, wander around the garden, glistening and glowing too. I've started a new quilt, a smallish one, I guess it's a lap quilt, for the couch and lamplit nights of knitting and watching the The Time of our Lives. It's  flannelette and so warm and yummy and cosy.  I can't wait till it's finished so I can dive under it. Solstice is less than a week away. We're all very excited to be heading out of town for a bonfire, soup and good company. There's lanterns to make, solstice intentions and gratitudes to think about, candles to pour, candle molds to find {anyone?}, and a full week of silver light and sunlight ahead. 

 

 

ruby red ducks

 

 

it was back to the secret garden today. wishing you all a wonderful june weekend.

 

 

small things :: morning walk

 

 

autumn is leaving us in a wake of blazing red. the days of glorious sunshine and soft skies have been overthrown by rain, fog and a general greyness. the stark, winter sky with it's crisp light has set in. i've always welcomed the grey, the slowing down of this dark season winter. but for some reason this year my enthusiasm has mellowed. it occurred to me that it's been a while since i've posted a small things collection. so instead of lamenting the loss of my favourite season i'm looking for the small things about this new season that bring a smile to my face and soften my yearning for spring already.  in this spirit we head out the door & into the morning, wandering around the neighbourhood, slowly, slowly...the only way it can be done with little people. pausing to look at what seasonal offerings each garden holds. fairy rings, moss, ripe berries, the last autumn leaves, fallen petals and dandelions dripping with dew. listening to the throaty wattlebirds call and the currawongs dipping across the treetops. watching my sweets taking it all in. finding inspriation for and dreaming of a garden, one that is our very own, where we can plant trees and a wildflower meadow. breathing in the crisp air and just wandering. a perfect start to our daily rhythm.

 

ten small things i love about winter

 

layers of cotton and woollens, mitts and hats, thick socks and coats

fresh flanelette sheets

that feeling of being alive in the elements, the waking up it brings & also the slowing down

a vegie garden that tends itself, an outdoor larder & fridge of sorts. no watering, minimal weeding. gotta love that

long, hot baths with a good book

light that fades early. i've never been one for daylight savings

the arrival of the winter birds & their chorus

the promise of a good snowboarding season

soups, pies, tea, baking... anything warm & yummy really

my love, who never complains of my chilly feet on his bare skin when i cuddle up in bed

 

play along too. i'd love to know what small things you love about the season you're in? 

 

 

catch up:: part two

141/365

 

 

140/365

 

 it's rhubarb pie with cream for dessert tonight

 

i love seeing you in handknits. when we're in town people always stop to comment  "you never see babies in handknits any more and aren't you so lovely!"

 

139/365

 

zahra headed straight for the kitchen after a garden harvest.

"can I pleeeease chop the vegies, pleeeease?"

last night it was tidying the living room, without us asking and tonight while niamh was having a five o'clock and where is my dinner moment you asked if there was anything you could do to help? 

love you baby girl

 

twilight in the garden

 

138/365

 

my garden girls

 

137/365

 

these girls love each other so much. when she's hurt herself niamh will often choose zahra over her mama or papa for a cuddle, when zahra is not around niamh mopes around the house and when niamh is napping zahra will ask when niamh is getting up. it's been a big year of adjustment for my big girl having to share people, things, time and space but she's finally found her groove.

 

136/365

 

 friday afternoon out in the paddocks

 

 

catch up

 

135/365

 the old making the bed parachute trick. haven't met a kid that doesn't love it.

 

134/365

 

a rainy day indoors 

 

133/365

 

my little bird watcher , with breakfast on the windowsill, watching all the winter birds. eastern spine bills, silver-eyes, sparrows, white cheeked honeyeaters and wattlebirds

 

132/365

 

 

always reaching for something or other, things that are out of reach. our saftey margin on tabletops and benches is receding as niamh grows, stands on tiptoes, climbs. the back of the couch , our place to stash those few untouchables out of her reach, is no more.

 

 

last week disappered so quickly & before i knew it there were almost two weeks of 365 photos backlogged on my desktop. it was rainy& blustery, sunny & grey, foggy & cold, all sunshiny & warm. the last of the autumn weather. we spent a lot of time indoors, peering out. niamh comes to me with her wellies & a hat asking to go out. zahra is happy to stay in until the sun bursts through then she's gone , into the garden, to her fairy realm & chookie friends. i didn't do any gardening on account of the wet weather, but fed the girls with the glass-bead eyes, who didn't seem bothered by wet feet & feathers. i've been trying to get a good photo of them but they're shy & run under the big, old, apple tree when they see me coming. their eyes are big & black, shiny like onyx & they have petticoat upon petticoat of feathery pantaloons.  we made rhubarb pie & walked through damp paddocks, where chimney smoke & setting sun mingled. there were perfect early morning spider webs & fresh greens to pick from our garden. the last of the roses are opening & soon it will be time to prune, set them to bed until spring. the greyness of winter is usually a welcome sight to me. it means cosying up, knitting, soups & hot chocolate, baking & snow. but for some reason this year i'm dreading the few short, sharp, months of winter & am eager for spring already. not sure what that's about. could be the indoor laundromat we've got going on or the lack of mud room & the bobillion pairs of muddy shoes & mud inside at the backdoor, right in the kitchen.  i do know i need gumboots though. easy in & easy out, into the yard, the vegie garden, up to the compost heap, first thing in the morning to feed the girls. my last pair finally died, so gumbot shopping i must go. i did do some early christmas shopping, can you believe it, i'm feeling very organised. i ordered the miss juniper kitty for zahra and miss phyllis mouse for niamh & another ornament kit which i use as stocking stuffers. that alicia is so talented. the indoor time has been good for sitting down to some knitting. i'm trying out my first lace pattern. if anyone had asked me a few years back if i'd be knitting something fancy pants like this i would have laughed, because back then a rib stitch was challenging. but here i am, following a lace chart of all things & even though i frogged it a dozen times i really am enjoying it. it's challenging & new. who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks. so this week i'll be thinking about mud room solutions, waiting for the postie, dodging hanging laundry, going about our general homeschooling rhythm, knitting, purling, passing slipped stitches over and going horseriding for the first time in five years. i can't telll you how excited and nervous my tummy feels. happy working week wherever you may be.

 

 

late August

 

 

There is so much pink and white, lush, lush green and sky blue outdoors these past days. The teasings of Spring have begun. Swelling buds reveal just a hint of the colour and life beneath. The vibrant yellow green of growing grass reminds us of the mowing season ahead and warm sunshine beckons us to stop and soak it all in. Beanies have been replaced with sunhats and the days are becoming noticeably longer as the sun crawls higher in the sky and our girls stay up later and later catching those few last bugs before the night's roost. The soft lingering light of twilight has replaced the hurry home heaviness of Winter evenings.

Doors and windows were thrown open these last few days and the daffodils we planted weeks ago have finally uncurled from their earthy rest. Zahra is spending more time outdoors than in, and I can hear her out in the yard singing in the season. She is a Spring girl this one, born on the first calendar day of the new season. Something she is proud of and holds dear to her heart. When people ask her when her birthday is she replies not with a date but with "the first day of Spring". This weekend she turns eight. An age where I can feel her letting go just a little from me, making more of her own way out in the world in ever so small ways. This year for her birthday I am gifting her a quilt. My first quilt. A quilt for her to wrap herself in and dream big, beautiful, dreams about her life. A quilt to remind her of how loved she is. A quilt that she may, this Mama hopes, have with her for many years to come. A quilt that this Mama has yet to finish.

There is more rain forecast later this week and I'm sure the easterlies will return giving us a final blast of cold air off the mountains just to remind us Winter is not done yet. But in these late August days we are getting out there and breathing in the slow unfurling of Spring.

Happy New season to you

Cxo 

 

where we've been

 

Try as I might I over the past month I've been unable to find the time or headspace to make my way here. Oh how I miss picture taking. It is one of those things that has waxed and waned in my life as circumstances change and right now when I have a spare minute all I want to do is sleep or have a cup of tea. That's not to say we haven't been busy in other ways. We've been watching the seasons slowly change, listening to the rain falling almost every other day, seeing bulbs poke their heads up and magnolias bloom all over town. There's the homeschooling activities and babies to cuddle, winter soups to make and knitting to go on with. There's a car still to find and my first quilt in progress. Birthdays have been celebrated and dance rehersals attended. New phones to figure out, laundry, laundry and more piles of laundry to contend with. A marble cake recipe to find (ideas, people?) and an eight year old's birthday to plan. A hermit crab called Julie that is settling in quite nicely who I must remeber not to step on and a dog that looks at me with sad eyes every evening after I've promised a walk and not quite got there. My lists of things to do grow and shrink like the tides and in amongst this I try to stay grounded, listen to my heart, follow my dreams, remember to drink water and breathe.  I look at families with more than two kids and wonder how they do it. I'm truly in awe and I'm not a disorganised person I tell you. Life is busy and frustrating at times right now, but good too, in so many ways. These moments are precious.

Cxo

today, beauty is...

Winter is normally one of my favourite seasons. The slowness, the cosying up inside, the knitting, the soups. And while I still love this season, this year I'm finding the being inside more like being cooped up rather than cosying up and the while the slowness is lovely, I'm just itching to get out there. I have plans for a chook run and a garden this Spring filled with flowers and vegies, the sandpit is part way finished and Zahra has been dreaming about a cubby that doesn't involve sheets and pegs, more of the permanent sort. I have to constantly remind myself that these days are precious, take some deep breaths and enjoy what now is offering. So on that note it's back to  today, beauty is...posts to help me keep it real and soak up what life is right now

 

knitting with popcorn and my girls by my side while the rain falls

fresh, zingy, winter sniffle combating juice

sheepskins, baby blankets, story time and the determination of a 4 month old who is desperate to roll

card stock for the front yard shop

bed side reading

knitting of course

soups, soups and more soups [ Jamie Oliver's Leek and Potato soup]

new projects

Winter dreaming

pep talks from friends to kickstart the motivation

the first hug I'll get today from my biggest girl when she returns home

 

Hope you find some beauty in your days too

xoC

 

 

 

fast, last minute birthday bunting

 

 

Yesterday was William's birthday. Presents were wrapped, a cake baked, paper chains hung and party hats made. Then half an hour before he was due home I decided to make bunting, because a) it was an excuse to sew, b) what's a party without a bit of bunting and c) I work best with impending deadlines. Zahra and I pulled out the fabric suitcases and picked out five fabrics from vintage sheets, fat quarter's, ticking and old shirts. My trusty assistant cut the triangles with pinking shears, while I traced using the template I'd kept from the last batch of last minute bunting I made. I have learnt to never throw templates away. With no ribbon or bias on hand that was long enough, I opted for a thick, wrapping string. At which point William called to say he was on his way home to which I responded that maybe he could go do something 'nice' for half an hour.

 

Off to the machine we went. Zahra sat under the table and worked the pedal to the instructions of stop, go, faster, while I stitched.

 

And before William walked through the door half an hour later we had it finished and hung. Super fast, super easy birthday bunting!

 

I love the go, go, gadget arms.

I think this idea of birthday stitching is fast becoming a tradition for our family.

Now to find a hook.

 

Happy Birthday my love

Cxo

PS: the cake, waiting for it's icing and roast hazelnuts, was Nigella's Torta Alla Gianduia.  So yummy.

simple knitting ~ beginnings

 

I first tried knitting when I was seven years old. It entailed my Mum casting on, me fighting with the wool, I didn't know about tension back then, my Mum fixing my mistakes, which usually came in the form of big and numerous holes, then me giving up after six rows or so. I have wanted to be a knitter ever since. Two Winters ago it was time. A new wool store had opened in town, I had a little person to knit for and I had the determination. So I popped into the store to see what they had. I didn't even know such beautiful wool existed. I was immediately taken... by the colours, the textures, the names and the endless possibilities.

Since that day I have almost always had something on needles either half finished, almost finished, one row in or coming off, ready for blocking. Before I go any further let's talk about blocking. Can I just say I thought blocking was a waste of time. Who needed to block? Certainly not me. That was until I tried it a few months back. I know all of the well experienced knitters out there are probably cringing, but I seriously didn't know what I was missing. It all just added up to time and waiting, when all I was looking for was instant knitters' gratification. I have since learnt that it's well worth the wait.

My knitting journey started with Bonnie Gosse and Jill Allerton's book A First Book of Knitting for Children.  With this book I refreshed my casting on, casting off and my knit and purl skills. Then I knit a rectangle. With this I made a bag for Zahra. Then I made another rectangle which turned into a hen for the Easter table. After that I tried a simple doll. I then moved onto my first hat which involved decreases. I just made it up as I went. Then I moved onto another hat, and then another hat and then another hat and then another hat. I got stuck knitting hats for some time. But with the repetition I honed my decreasing and learnt to follow simple patterns. I fell in love with Erica Knight's book Simple Knitting, which I borrowed from our local library, and have since bought, which in turn kicked off my Book Depository obsession, but that's another story. I loved the wool she used, her style and most of all her easy patterns, simple instructions and tips. I would spend hours at the library and online looking through patterns and dreaming, but also working out what I could knit and what would challenge me. From here I moved onto Debbie Bliss, and a two needle sock pattern. This one was a challenge and I remember getting to a part of the pattern where I had no idea what I was being asked to do. Many knitters say to the unexperienced, "it's so simple, it's just two stitches", but to someone who has limited knowledge and expereince it is soooo much more than that. There's yarn weight and the trans-continental ways of naming this, there's guage and needle size, again two types, there's many ways to actually knit, hold yarn, cast on, cast off, not to mention pattern decoding and the little bits that are left out because they're assumed. Those little bits that are assumed can be the make or break to a beginner. I remember looking at this sock pattern day in and day out for a few weeks until I eventually 'got' what I was meant to do. Sometimes that's all it takes, a break for a few days, but other days it's time to head to knittinghelp.com. This website, along with the down to earth wisdom of knitting legend Elizabeth Zimmerman, completely changed my knitting experience. From the socks I went to fingerless mitts, cowls, vests for Zahra, baby blankets, bootees, more hats and cardigans for little people. I do not consider myself an experienced knitter by any means and there are always mistakes in whatever I knit. I have grown to love these little imperfections. They show that it is handknit, that Mama's hands and love are all there in every stitch. And as Elizabeth Zimmerman says "one is in this knitting pastime for pleasure, not for toil, anxiety and doubt, so don't worry".

When I started on my knitting adventure I had two goals in mind. The first was to be able to knit in the round, because let's face it, who wants to knit a row, purl a row, knit a row, purl a row, when you can just knit and get the same result. The second was to knit Amy King's oatmeal cardigan out of the 2009 Winter edition of Spin Off. Becasue by now I had learnt to spin and was quietly hunting for my very own spinning wheel, and the idea of knitting this divine, cosy looking cardigan had taken hold of me. I'm certainly not at this point yet, but I can knit a rib while talking, use circular needles, distinguish a knit stitch from a purl, confidently fix my mistakes, and after a year or two of sneaking peeks at Ravelry, I finally have an account (another amazing knitting resource). Last week I conquered the knitting frontier I had set for this Winter, and that was to knit with dpns ( that's double pointed needles for the uninitiated). I think this is partly why I've fallen in love with knitting. There is an ever changing boundary of what is possible. I am constantly challenged by new patterns and techniques and inspired by all the amazing knitters out there.  

So why am I telling you all this knitting tale. Well it's in hope that maybe, just maybe I can inspire someone out there who has wanted to learn to knit or has tried and ended up with an unplanned 'lacy' scarf, that it is possible. All it takes is time, a little patience, determination and of course, some sticks and wool.

 

[Taproot Family Mittens]

Sometime soon I'll post a list of the simple patterns I have knit.

Happy Knitting

Cxo

 

today, beauty is

I'm really loving this weeks theme of beauty in the everyday so I thought I'd keep it going a little while longer. It's quick, has me taking my camera everywhere with me and fills each new day with inspiration and motivation.

another trip out of town

old friends

tall trees, bush scents and last nights raindrops

the simplicity and manual work of splitting and stacking wood...so satisfying

farm fresh eggs, salad, fresh baked sourdough, boysenberry pie and a table of ten

the smell of woodsmoke

the gentle heat of the woodstove

drum beats and rhythm

mushrooms, mushrooms everywhere

out walking with my babe against my chest

being held accountable for dream driven goals

a first ride on a 1500cc road bike and finally 'getting' the attraction...oh my goodness they can fly

coming home with our first batch of homegrown lamb and the learning process this has involved

feeling like were taking the first small steps towards actualising our dreams 

more tour de france

the rain outside as I sit here cosied up with a weary dog while William is very generously out and about, buying chocolate 

 

I would love to hear what beauty you found in your day

Cxo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

today, beauty is

 

[photo by Zahra]

a trip out of town with a dear friend to visit another dear friend

getting out of the house

fresh faced, rosy cheeked, sparkling eyed kids

the sound of grasses moving to the wind

storm clouds reflected

found treasures

tree houses and space to run

chocolate fudge brownie

seeing a friend living her dream

the shiny beads that are Australorp eyes

talk of our dreams...the thought, the feelings the action and knowing that we will get there

motivational friends

three happy, tired babes in the back seat

homemade pizza and Tour de France

listening to the wind outside and knowing very soon I'll be cosied up in bed

 

Hope you found some beauty in your day

Cxo