In my dream life I get to stay home and sew every day. I create lovely things and somehow in the process become famous enough never to have to work again. The details are sketchy -I'm not sure exactly what I'm famous for - but it has something to do with my boundless creativity and design skills.
The reality is that I don't sew anywhere near as much as I would like, because when I get home from my day job every creative thought has been sucked out of my brain. From 9am - 5pm I have to remain logical and rational, and to make decisions based on evidence or fact. Creativity is usually reserved for weekends. But this week I was determined to sew something on a weeknight so I picked a project that didn't require much thinking on my part. My friend Nerida had a family heirloom quilt that required the binding replaced because it had been completely worn away by 16 years of constant love. I've been meaning to get to this for about three months - and finally found the motivation last week. It wasn't all beer and skittles - I had to wash all the swearing out of this before handing it back.
This week I also went hard at finishing the applique for the remaining Orange Peels for the Seville Quilt. I got 20 finished and only have 9 left to do. That means I've done 135 of them...next step - sew all these bloody things together so they look like a quilt. By my calculations I have 20 days to finish the applique, sew them together , baste , quilt and bind this quilt - and you know what? I'm still labouring under the delusion that its possible. Who's with me?
It was a long weekend here and with my parents impending move less than two weeks away, we headed up river to help them with a garage sale so they have less to pack and bring with them. And we brought back a load of stuff as well. I spent the weekend full of a nasty cold (which I'm pretty sure I caught from Little P when he came from his sleepover and he in turn told me he caught it from the girls at kindy because they kiss him all the time) I'm not sure how much help I was because I spent the weekend buried in a pile of tissues moaning about how awful I felt and barking like a dog. I think Mum and Dad are at the point where they just want it all over. Both my cold, and the move!
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Last picture of the old homestead . It was sad driving away for the last time. |
Obviously since we Aussies haven't been brought up on S'Mores, we went a bit overboard on the "more marshmallow can only be a good thing" principle and ended up with something that tasted great but had marshmallow guts leaking out all over the place. We already have plans to tone down the marshmallow on our next attempt.
And re-do's and renovations continue at Maison Pyjamas. Gardening has been happening and beds have been dug and plants and actual bulbs put in them, but most exciting of all is that my new shutters and sliding doors have been installed so I finally have coverings at my dining room window for the first time in about 10 years....
That's it from me. I'm off to stare at my shutters again.
