Happy golden days

Sorry to have gone all ninja on you and disappeared from the blog. First, I was sick. Then, I was, you know, on holidays. It's been nice. Some of the stuff that's been happening includes:

• starting books and actually finishing them
• a crafternoon! (pictures to come)
• trying to keep alive the tiny herb garden my mum made for me
• hanging out with my family
• squishing my niece
• sleeping in
• watching some good DVDs
• shopping for a wedding outfit and finding one, with only a hint of tears
• actually doing some novel rewriting
• tidying and cleaning the Housie
• movie night and black forest trifle with lovely girlfriends

and

• finding beautiful bouquets of flowers on sale for ridiculously cheap prices

What's new with you?

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Conversations:

Katie -- it seems the ideal garden for a slow graduation into new seasons. While some of the trees are losing their leaves, others are just turning, and still others already have new buds. It's lovely.

Laura Elizabeth -- yes! Nights are cold and the days are sunny. It's practically perfect! And thank you for your lovely words re. the project 52 post. I have to come and lurk yours (my internet is being a pain; it's disconnected three times just in the writing of this post, requiring a restart of my computer before it would even connect again. GRRR!).

Winter at the Housie

I was going to make a more thoughtful post today, but being a bit under the weather has melted my brain. Instead, I'll share with you some pictures of winter at the Housie. Since moving to Queensland four and a bit years ago, I've lamented the fact that the seasons pass by almost unrecognised here in Brisbane. Things are either green, or not, it seems. And I miss the beautiful liquid amber tree from my childhood home in the Hunter Valley; it was like a perfect barometer of the changing seasons. However, I was obviously not looking in the right places because here in the garden, winter is shouting in all its most glorious colours -- and sharply, too, as my mum has been digging and weeding and trimming and dead-heading and spreading and everything is looking lovely.

Winter foliage. Mmhmm.

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Conversations:

Un -- :) Memories...

Elisabeth -- you are a sweet friend! x

Abbie -- This: There's so much to learn as we travel along, isn't there? And learning to treasure very moment, every season, every good or bad, is something I need to learn most of all. So true. And you didn't ramble at all; longer comments are a treat :). It was great to see you briefly for coffee and chats and smiles. xx

Bloss -- a treasured comment from you! Thank you! xx It's so strange to suddenly realise that we're no longer waiting to grow up or trying to put it off; it happened when none of us were looking, and it's a different place to be, and a challenging place to be, but a great place nonetheless. I'm so glad you could relate. Bless you!

Katie -- so considerate of him! little Daniel is already being a thoughtful young man.

Harri -- letterssssss! YAY! <3 you.

Project 52: two [three, four]

Friday: we are little girls, dreaming, dawdling, playing, and promising never to be grown ups, never to sit around and just talk. Saturday: we talk, sometimes, but we still know how to build treehouses and lay hidden in the overgrown green of the next-door paddock. Sunday: we forget our promises never to be grown ups because it happens, almost, when we are not looking. Someday: someday is here, and I have grey hairs, and I cry, but not just about the grey hairs. It is someday and it's not what we expected. It's harder than we expected and it's worse than we expected. But it's easier than we expected, and it's better than we expected. Someday: and there are other little girls, and they are our little girls. One of them dreams and dawdles and plays and wants to be grown up right now. We could not slow the growing up down, and she cannot speed it up. She looks at us and wonders why we just sit around and talk. But we realise now that it's exactly what we want to do, and it is good.

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Conversations:

Samantha R -- :D :D :D thank you, friend! He's a doll.

Un -- it really was :D. xx

Rebecca Simon -- yes, sorry it didn't happen! We almost got to organise something with you but plans changed before I could text. We WILL catch up sometime, I am sure!

Adventuring.

Two weeks was a long time to be away from home, but a short time to be with my sister, Andrea, and her precious little family. I'm fumbling around for the right words to aptly summarise two weeks of getting to hang out and chat with a sister I see all too little, and making better and better friends with my first niece and nephew. Amelia and I were already BFFs (sharing a fondness for journals, coloured pencils, and costume jewellery, though at four she already has better taste than me), but Mitchell, now two-and-a-half, took a little more convincing. On the first day, he responded to my anecdote about seeing an owl on a signpost with the blunt shut-down, "That's not exciting." But by the next day, he told me I was his "best best friend" and shouted, "I LOVE you staying here till the baby comes out!"

Which is the real reason behind my visit: to be there as aunt/babysitter when small person no. 3 made his or her arrival. Only said small person was none too quick about arriving and its due date slipped past with nary a peep. We filled in the blanks by exploring the little snowfields town my sister lives in, tripping out for a day to Canberra to see the war memorial and the luscious streets lined with bare-bones winter trees. We had coffee (twice) at our favourite little providore, and both times we managed to get a table right by the open fire. We knitted (well, Andrea did) and read (well, I did), and Sam introduced me to the dorky entertainment that is The Scrapheap Challenge. I laughed over and over again at the amazingly witty things coming out of small niece and nephew's mouths, and we generally tried to ignore the fact that baby no. 3 might not actually arrive before I had to fly home again.

Andrea walked over hill and dale in an attempt to keep moving and possibly nudge baby on into the world, but all seemed useless. It was snug in there; who'd want to face a southern winter anyway, right? But one afternoon, Andrea and I sat down to watch The Little Kidnappers, a movie we'd loved when we were small and which we were hoping would stand the test of time. We weren't five minutes in when Andrea leapt off the couch quite suddenly. It was happening.

Just after midnight, with Amelia and Mitchell sound asleep, my phone rang (I should probably change my ringtone from the Batman theme soon) and Andrea was there, telling me that there is a new little man in the world, and his name is Daniel.

In spite of our complaints, Daniel's timing was perfect. And he is perfect -- already a golden child, so content and snuggly, and looking a lot like his dad. I had five days to enjoy him before I had to fly home, and it was an honour to be able to be there for his first few days of life this side of the womb. Though we never did get to finish watching The Little Kidnappers.

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Conversations:

Laura Elizabeth -- I know, right? Two babies in two months is quite incredible! PS. Thank you for missing me in blogland. I felt all warm and fuzzy :).

Staish -- alas! In the post-trip suitcase weigh-in, the red coat got thrown aside on account of IT WAS TOO HEAVY.

Katie -- thank you!

Cara -- new small people for both of us! Yay!

Amanda -- I'll be posting more at LJ :)

Samantha -- thank you, lovely. Thinking of you today. x

brb

So long for a fortnight, folks!

I have packed gloves and a fire engine red coat and I'm heading down south to be with my sister and her little family while they await the arrival of a bran noo bebe! I'll catch up on Project 52 when I return. Keep smiling!

Stitching love

For me, one of the neatest things about being involved in the world of patchwork and quilting was the connection with those who might be inspired by one of my designs. I found it incredibly cool to see how someone else interpreted one of my designs or used it as the starting point for something else. I’m not actively involved in quilt design these days (for now) but the happy connections still trickle in occasionally.

Last September I received an email from Janet in New Zealand. She had picked up volume 8 #4 of Country Patchwork & Quilting while in Queensland on business and hoped to make my Paradise Quilt for her new granddaughter, Plum (best name ever, yes?). Back in New Zealand, she gathered the materials and took them, pattern and all, to visit Plum’s family. But a flash flood hit the car and, though Janet survived, her patterns were soaked. She emailed asking if I could send a copy of the pattern. Of course I could.

A few days ago, I received another email from Janet. She’s completed the quilt and little Plum is now its delighted owner. Janet attached pictures and I was so delighted with how she interpreted the design. Appropriately, Janet has used plum tones and referred to the nursery rhyme ‘I had a little nut tree’ to add quirky variations to the tree. She also replaced the birds of paradise with ‘festival kiwis’, designed by Plum’s father for the Wellington International Festival of the Arts some years ago. Janet writes that the original version of the festival kiwis ‘had a kiwi with nikau feathers attached as its tail (kiwis don’t have a tail)’.

The final result is amazing. I love that Janet shared her end product with me and I love that this is a quilt with true history and significance – an artwork that tells a story of a little girl’s origins and a grandma’s love. Which, to me, is basically what quiltmaking is all about.

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Conversations:

Laura Elizabeth -- oh have I ever seen the half-season finale of Doctor Who!! Eeh, such a twist! I was quite delighted and shocked. (PS. freeform poetry all the way! I was incredibly nervous about writing and sharing the poem -- free verse! so pretentious! so ridiculous! -- but I feel like that's all part of the challenge.

Samantha R -- Thank you so much for your encouragement. I'm sure I wouldn't have even tried this had it not been for your enthusiasm when I discussed it :).

Asea -- ooh, I have not read The Trumpet of the Swan. Must find!

Staish -- (and I you!)

Project 52: one

It is a kind of familiar, friendly pain,
this stretching of unlimber muscles.
Mind reaches into memory and beyond it
into words, straining after significance.

I breathe heavy, bearing the weight of moments,
shifting them from hand to hand.
I balance images:
one, a laughing boy pressed nose to window;
two, thoughtless words like footprints
trampled without care over someone's heart
(from hindsight, they resemble regrets);
three, a fuschia, feathered sky.

I juggle them from mind to memory
and fumble for a unity to bind them/
bear their weight.
No matter; life is its own poem.

[tentative beginnings]

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Conversations:

Rebecca Simon -- ah, Jim and Wally are such fabulous guys! Now I want to re-read all the books. Immediately.

Samantha R -- I know what you mean. I just had to pick five of the many books that have influenced me. There are probably hundreds!

Asea -- those are some fantastic people to visit! Ah, and I love Strunk & White. Those guys are amazing. I didn't realise for so long that the White half of the equation was E.B. White, author of Charlotte's Web and Stuart Little. Oh, and I really want to read that Brian McLaren book!

Bethany -- I truly recommend them all. :)

BushMaid -- ah, I have lost count of how many times I've read Stepping Heavenward. It always inspires me to be zealous about my journal-writing and to record the real life adventures of faith.