Beautiful Rain

I love the sound of the rain, the feel of the cold, it has got me thinking about winter, even though it it not quite here. Time to haul out the winter woollies and get knitting. I'm knitting a vest for my son who came home from school very sick today (spewing - I hate spewing - I am very good at acting the good mum, but in truth, I hate the spew). I don't know why I am knitting a vest for my son. The last 2 (hoodie) vests that I knitted for my other sons (to their specifications) have never been worn - not because they are ugly - but because they never get cold. In truth, they only occasionally wear a zip up hoodie, and as my 5 1/2 yr pointed out, if I had made it in fabric, he might have worn it. Yet, the 8yr old insists that he will wear it....if I knit it in footy colours.....Hurrah! So, here I am, knitting the same pattern again (in the biggest size possible so that it will hopefully fit for a while...). Let's hope that I get it knitted before the footy finishes.
My greatest learning curve has been that I can't knit it on the circular needles (my needles of choice) as I am doing vertical stripes - now that was a valuable lesson. As my friend's husband is oft heard to say whilst she is knitting, and unravelling... "Are you having fun yet?"

Mending softies

My boys think that skip shopper and I can fix anything & who am I to burst their bubble? Sometimes things just sit for an incredibly long time until it has been forgotten or superseded, other things, like these old softies, just get slowly mended (some of them like orange doggie get done over & over & over again).

Old George has been so well loved that his "skin" needs to be remade. Orange doggie needs his ear remade.

Caramello bear's legs sewn back on.

These are the important things that I do in the night.

cold feet

The phone call had come out of the blue. Veronica recognised the voice immediately. It was from such a long time ago that she could have blown the cobwebs off it. As soon as she heard it she was reminded of the time that they used to spend together at the clubs down in King St, Melbourne so many years ago. Short skirts, teased hair, lippy, earrings, tight tops and high heels, music, drink, men and everything else. What a wild time they had. What different time that seemed to be from now. Veronica had closed that whole part of her memory as though it did not exist and here she was being woken from 20 years sleep.

Suddenly she was gasping for air. Her suburban life was sucking her dry. Veronica could hear Simone sucking on a fag and the longing came back, even after all of those years. Veronica yearned for a life that had a buzz again. Her heart was leaping with fear and excitement at the idea. This was just what she needed right now. Something to get the hell out of here.

Life was not what she had really planned. Here she was trudging through the humdrum of life and suburbia: meals, cleaning, lunches, washing. On and on it went. Veronica had been caught in Ground Hog day for too long and thought that she would never be free of it. She was sucked dry. She could hardly even remember who she was any more. Her name bore a vague resemblance to her. Other than that, there was little else. There didn't seem to be much point in throwing the lippy on anymore or doing the hair. It was just trackies & frumpiness for Veronica for years.

When it came to the day, it seemed all to easy to arrange. Make the lunches, wipe the benches, drop the kids at school, come home and pack the bags. This was the easy part. In fact, it was down right exciting and Veronica had to stop herself from shouting about it to everyone around her. Everything seemed to be done a little faster than usual and Veronica was shaking the whole way through. This was just the break that she needed. She deserved it after all of these years. It was all going to change from here. No note. She didn't feel like it. It didn't seem like that it would do any of it justice anyway. Maybe she might come back. She didn't know. The excitement was a little sickening.

Bags packed and clothes changed. Trackies folded onto the queen sized bed. Never to be worn again. Time to leave now. Heels on, mini skirt on, hair teased, lippy on. Walk out the door. Veronica paused at the hall mirror. Behind her was the family portrait. With that she turned and removed her heels from her cold, cold feet and put them into her warm ugg boots and got on with her day.

Thanks Pip for the theme for this weeks (creative!!) words and pictures!

iron on interfacing

One of the things that I used to always find frustrating with sewing was using iron on interfacing for a few reasons:

a: I don't like the smell of it as it sticks onto my iron

b: I don't like it sticking to my ironing board & then to everything else that I use afterwards

c: I can't stand that bubbling thing that happens when you use it.

So I have improved my ways with using it & most people has what is needed to be able to get the professional results in their kitchen pantry.

There are two phrases that you need to remember: "NON-STICK BAKING PAPER" & "STEAM OFF"

1. Using 2 sheets of NON-STICK BAKING PAPER, put the piece of fabric & interfacing (glue side facing the fabric) between the sheets of NON-STICK BAKING PAPER.

2. With the iron up to Hottest temperature possible for the fabric (most important) and the STEAM OFF, press down over the top sheet of NON-STICK BAKING PAPER.

3. Ensure that you cover all of the fabric & do this for about 1 minute moving the iron around the whole time with the STEAM OFF with reasonable pressure.

4. Once you have finished, you will be able to reuse this NON-STICK BAKING PAPER, just ensure that you keep the "insides" of them together & roll them up so that you never put your iron on the insides of the used NON-STICK BAKING PAPER.

Out of Scraps

This is a little bag that I made up yesterday afternoon from a scrap of towelling fabric. It was an odd shape, hence the odd shape bag, however, it seems kinda cute for a mobile phone. Nice and cosy for winter. It was also my first time with the "clicker". I stuffed up the first try with the press stud (had it upside down), smashed one old wooden cotton reel, but in the end, got it right. I have demystified the press stud.

a long drive

just one bag each
packed night before
yellow combi full to the gunnels
curtains drawn
tick tock goes the clock
footsteps in the night
bing goes the alarm
lights shining now
bleary eyed children
parents rushing here
quell tablets pushed down throats
one last stop at the loo
then slam go the doors
"hush! the neighbours sleep"
take seats quickly
pillows under head
teddies under arms
eyelids shut now
engine turns over
roll up the gravel drive
start the ardous journey
from templestowe
all the way to kurrajong

thanks to Pip at Meet me at Mikes for hosting words & pictures! Play along if you like - it's fun.