Instagram photos from recent times

Unrelated to the photos: the good, the bad and the ugly. A busy few weeks at work, a performance in the Scottish play (just two scenes; candlelight, black corporate suit and evil intent), rain and mist, a tap routine to Johnny Cash, learning Brahms Lullaby at strings group, blue skies, Son#1 passing his driving test and proudly dropping his brother at school some mornings(freaking me out), making feijoa jam and chutney, a disappointment, sewing a spotty skirt, trying to sew a spotty dress but I botched the zip and can't find the energy to pull it out and start again, receiving a palest pink silk scarf from Vietnam, a death, dinner with friends.

There's chicken and vegetable soup on the stove for when the kidlets come home from soccer, with chocolate cake to follow. This week's yoghurt is fermenting in the cooler bag with a couple of hot wheatbags and i'm going to sit by the fire with my knitting for a while.

Bec! Number 12 came out of the hat and you were the twelfth commenter. The 'Sew Red' book will be in the mail when you email me with your address!

sew red

Remember the Knit Red book? Well there's a sewing one now, Sew Red. Like its big sister, it's full of stories, tips and projects, all in the name of promoting awareness of heart disease, or rather, how to avoid it.





There are clothes to sew, bags, quilts (including a Kaffe Fasset one), scarves, jewellery and homewares.



The nice publishers sent me a copy and although i kept the knitting one for myself, i'm going to give the sewing one away. Free to a good home. If you'd like a crack at receiving it, let me know in the comments and i'll pull a name out of the metaphorical hat.



And happy Mothers Day to all the mothers, grandmothers and aunts out there who make up the village that raises our children. I had pancakes for breakfast on both days this Mothers Day weekend, which is my kind of weekend.

yoghurt

If you've been reading here for a while you'll probably have noticed I like to make stuff. Clothes, soap, toys, cakes, bread, jams and chutneys. Making my own yoghurt has always been on the list but I wasn't interested in buying special powders or canisters as I knew I'd never keep that up (I also knew yoghurt is just warm milk and bacteria).

I finally got around to it and predictably wondered why it had taken me so long.



I used these instructions and it worked beautifully. Every time.

Behold the delicious yoghurt.



I've made this for several weeks now and as with my soap, I think I can safely say I won't ever buy shop-bought scary-ingredient-filled commercial stuff again. Have a go, it's so very very good. And it will give you that warm smug glow of a person who knows they will survive the zombie apocalypse, (as long as you remember to save half a cup as a starter to take with you into the zombie-proof shelter).




Your cat will approve too.

meta

small treasures

it's just the usual around here, nothing particularly worth recording. There's work, a looming essay, driving children back and forth from soccer matches, laundry, trying to get inspired in the kitchen (Jamie's 15 minute meals is helping, sort of), a 50th birthday party which was good fun, an outing to the Comedy Festival (Denise Scott and Judith Lucy being hilarious), the new Kate Atkinson novel (highly recommended), and the knitting of a pair of husband socks and a cardigan for me.

I planted some Tasmanian Flax in the garden yesterday. And we went to Ikea and bought two armchairs and a rug. The old icky carpet and the two mismatched op shop armchairs are now out by the roadside for Hard Rubbish collection and one chair has gone already. I thought we were the only ones who sat on tatty junkyard chairs. Apparently not.

I received a sewing book in the mail the other day which i must show you. I need to get inspired with the sewing machine too. I seem to sew a lot of clothes but still stare dismally at my wardrobe every morning. Is that physics? Or Murphy's Law or something? Who was Murphy anyway?

My office is freezing today. I'm wrapped in a shawl and my colleague in the office next door is wearing her coat. Oh my god, Autumn.

Ok lunch time is over. Back to the computer screen and some speedy typing to warm up my fingers.

(Beachy treasures were from our Easter break at Waratah Bay).

tilting towards autumn

good things today:

submitting the essay
learning that the scary lumps are benign cysts
cracking open the new Kate Atkinson which had been set aside as a post-essay treat

finished knits

Not one, not two, but three (!) black shawls to show you. These are all destined to be gifts for other people.



First up, a plain black traditional triangle, with a few garter ridges thrown in. It's kind of like the Boneyard Shawl, the Romney Triangle and the body of Terra before the lace, all rolled in together but without actually following the instructions from any of those. Knitted until it felt big enough.



A grey Textured Shawl but modified to include increases on all rows, not just right side rows, to result in a wide, shallow triangle which the wearer could, if she wished to emulate Tess of the D'Urbervilles, wrap around herself and tie behind her back. (So when she's picking cabbages in a muddy field her shawl ties don't trail in the muck).

The modification to the pattern means it uses a surprising amount more yarn than usual, and i ran out of the grey Pear Tree 8ply yarn when the shawl was still not quite the size i was after. I opted to border it with the last of the black Pear Tree 8ply i'd dyed to knit the first shawl, and i'm quite pleased with the effect.



And finally, another Cladonia, modified to make it bigger for more wrappage. This used the last of my precious stash of The Knittery slim sock yarn and as it looks unlikely that The Knittery will ever return, that's the last time i'll knit with this lovely yarn, sadly. It is my favourite sock yarn - silky but strong, with a lovely sheen and gorgeous drape. Perfect for delicate shawls and also the best yarn i've ever used for socks. *mourns*

This black shawl was dyed too, although i opted to dye it once it was complete. I prefer yarn dyeing to garment dyeing, but the skein had already been dyed once and balled, and i was not going to undo all that work. Besides, i was hoping that the previous dye job (olive and plum) would work for the shawl. Unfortunately it did not. And so i did what i always do when in doubt - overdye the whole thing black and call it done.

Now to wrap them all up ready for gifting, as they say. When did that noun become a verb? I think i prefer "ready for giving". Yes, much better.

All three shawls are ravelled, here.

It was a Good Friday

Good to get out of town.

Good to walk on near-empty beaches.

Not so good to be spat on by a grumpy alpaca called Alice.

Summer, you may leave now thank you.

We've just come out the other side of a record heatwave, despite it being Autumn, apparently. As part of my cunning plan to deal with the ridiculous temperatures, we bought the youngest child a pool for his birthday.

Don't get too excited, it's only a thirty dollar paddling pool (and he did get another 'proper' present) but boy it does the trick of cooling one's core body temperature, especially when taken in conjunction with a large G&T (the adults of the household) or lemon cordial (the offspring).

Here is said offspring, about to blow out 14 candles. My baby! Wah!



Since the day that was taken, the eldest has also had a birthday (nineteen), the eldest has become the proud owner of his first car (my firstborn! Wah!) the eldest has started university, the middle child came down with a nasty vomitty virus the day his braces were due to come off so he is still in possession of said braces (but is no longer vomitting, thank heaven), i have had a big birthday but not so big that it has a zero on the end, and i've been to the first craft camp of the year. More to come from that later, with photos.

In the meantime, here's the final sunrise shot of this heatwave. Autumn, we're ready for you please.

feline: morning routine

5:07am: Preliminary meow #1 to prepare the household for the morning.

5:17am. Second meow. Just in case they've dozed off.

6:03am. Repeat.

6:23am. Time for action. Commence routine proper by entering the biggest humans' bedroom. This is a kindness, as 6:23 is precisely two minutes before their alarm thingy goes off, ensuring the alpha and beta humans awake to my divine and loving presence, rather than that classical radio music they favour. (Note for weekends. It is doubly essential to perform the routine at 6:23am sharp on Saturdays and Sundays as the humans always neglect to turn the radio thing on for some reason. Do not be late. What would they do without me?)

6:24am. Employ a sprightly leap up onto the bed on alpha's side. Land on his stomach preferably, or failing that, just walk across his stomach as you make your way to beta. She is much harder to wake and a good solid headbutt is recommended, right on her nose. If she has heard your approach and buried her face in the pillow, headbutting her ear is a good second choice. Purr loudly.

Repeat headbutt. Employ a small but loving nip on any bared shoulder flesh. Purr loudly. I AWAKEN YOU WITH MY LOVING PRESENCE. I AM ALSO IN NEED OF RED MEAT.

6:25am. Leap off bed, using beta's belly as springing off point, and head for the east-facing window. Push curtain aside ensuring blinding dawn light floods into the room. Supervise the dawn birds and various wildlife out there (rabbits, grazing peacefully on the last of beta's basil and parsley) by growling menacingly at them through the window. This lets them know who's boss and one may then return to the business of rousing the humans.

6:26am. Head around to alpha's side again. Vigorously leap onto the bed and this time walk across alpha's head to headbutt beta.

Repeat headbutt as necessary.

6:27am. Jump off bed. Repeat curtain business and supervision of birds etc. Yowl a little louder to ensure they get the message.

6:28am. Repeat leap and pillow walk two or three times, making sure to brush belly fur across alpha's face. He really needs to get up and get the meat. The meat. Meat.

Repeat circular route across pillows, leaping off bed on beta's side, around the room and up again at alpha's side.

6:29am. Stand on beta's pillow and reach across to her bedside table. With a delicate paw, gently nudge her glasses and wristwatch to the floor. Wonder at the consistency of the laws of gravity which ensure they fall every single morning. Science is truly fascinating.

Also, THIRSTY. Convey the urgency of the situation to beta with a meow.

6:30am. If beta's glass of water is still reasonably full, keep back legs on pillow but reach across bedside table and teetering pile of books and lap noisily and gratefully from the glass. Brush tail in beta's face at the same time to gently encourage her to rise. If the glass is only half full, reach out a paw for a wee dabble and gently tip the glass ov ...

Mission accomplished. She's awake. He's awake.

They're up.

6:31am. Enter the kitchen. Rub around alpha's ankles as he moves from fridge to pantry to cat bowls, purring loudly and meowing occasionally to demonstrate pleasure yet convey urgency of need for meat. Meow reproachfully at him when he trips and curses.

6:35am. Greet three smaller humans. Supervise their breakfast, dressing and packing of schoolbags. Proffer small nips of admonishment to their ankles when they get distracted. Purr loudly.

6:45am. Your work is done, they are all awake. Find cosy spot for Nap #1 of the Day.