Creepy Crawly Alert

I thought I'd put the non-bug type news first, so the faint-hearted amongst you can avoid it if you don't want to see what goes on in our garden.

I've finally dug out the beautiful fabric I bought in 2009 from here to make a tablecloth for My Best Friend, whose birthday was yesterday - Happy Birthday Deb! and I'm busy sewing french seams on the cloth:

 (Sometimes I hate blogger.  Why won't it put these in the middle?)

I really like these materials & hope MBF does too!  The first print is for the cloth, and the second print is for the border - there was much swearing yesterday when I was trying to work out what size to cut the border to acommodate the whole length (108" X 2 + 43" X 2) but I think I've got it.  I think.

OK, bug alert.  Stop reading now if you don't want to see spiders, half-eaten beetles and insect wars.


We tend not to call them 'critters', down here. They're just the local wildlife. We have an inordinate number of them, see here for details.  But don't look if you're faint-hearted.  We have the White-tail, Wolf, St Andrew's Cross, Redback and Huntsman in our garden, and the daddy-long-legs in our house.  Of all of them, it's the daddy-long-legs that annoy me the most - they make webs in the house, which attract - shock horror - dust.  And then we have cobwebs.  Once you've got them, too, it's almost impossible to get rid of them.  When we were first married, way back in the 17th Century, we didn't have them, then we moved into a rental apartment (which I hated, but that's a whole 'nother story) which had them, and bang!  We had them.  And we've had them ever since.  


Anyway, yesterday morning, Gentle Readers, I was hanging washing out in the garden, as we do here in Australia.  Out in the sunshine, as you will see from the photos.  The St Andrew's Cross spiders have started making their amazing multi-dimensional webs, and there's one right on the clothesline.  I don't mind this at all, because they catch flies and mosquitos, and as I'm still scarred from the sandfly plague, any help I can get from Mother Nature is fine with me.  I don't much like walking into the webs at night, particularly when they try & run over your face to get away.. but I digress.


The St Andrew's Cross spider had just shed its skin.  I didn't even know they did that.  But there it was, an empty skin, and a newly limp spider, just... hanging... there, waiting to warm up, or cool down, or whatever it is they do.  So I whipped back inside to get the camera.


It took me a few goes to get the camera to focus on the spiders and not the roof, the garden, the sky, but I finally achieved it:

Garden

Roof

More Garden

Yet more garden and finally...

Spiders.  Before and after!

Weird, huh?


Then, in another entomological moment, a beetle bit the dust just outside our back door, and made the ants happy for about 300 ant years:

This morning, there's only this left:

And the ants valiantly trying to drag an anntennae down the hole to their nest:

And last night, the battle of the bush spider versus the hornet - I'm not too fond of these little flying orange bundles of nasty, so I try to avoid them at all costs - which is why this was taken from behind my screen door (I'm not that brave!):

The poor paralysed spider is just outside my front door, being eaten alive by ants.  Ick.

And now, Gentle Readers, I must go & get in the shower (11.40am, just about time) & work on the tablecloth!

Have a wonderful (bug-free) Sunday.  Ciao!

Meet me in St Louis?

A much better day today, and thank the Maker for that.  I would have just curled up & cried if that weather had gone on for much longer.  I didn't want to trouble you with TMI, but honestly, yesterday morning I was standing in the kitchen peeling lychees with sweat running down my face.  Actual beads of moisture.  Not just the gentle glow that ladies get, Gentle Readers, the full-blown sweaty globules of sweat that horses, navvies and road workers get.  Like the proverbial pig.


Ahem.  I finished the quilt top today, after the remainder of the cleaning up, and here 'tis:

Ready and waiting to be quilted.


In other news, Gentle Readers, I got a mention from the very lovely Angela Pudding.  Mrs Pudding writes one of the funniest blogs I've read, and she's taken pity on me because we don't have Chipotles in adobo sauce here in Australia.  As I'd never heard of either, she's undertaken to come over & make them for me, served with fish tacos.  I think fish tacos sound just fine.  I'd like to go to St Louis, but I'm sure we could meet somewhere in the middle.  Hawaii?  Sure.  Fish tacos with chipotles and pineapple, anybody?


I had a very encouraging conversation with the man who runs the Upholstery department at our local (well, not quite local, but not quite St Louis either) Technical School, and tomorrow am popping over there to talk about the possibilities.  See, there is hope.


And I made a flat-pack pouch for the aforementioned Angela Pudding, the type I've raved about before, and which you can find in the shop.  She's my first Etsy sale for the New Year, and as mentioned, all proceeds will be donated to the Premier's Flood Appeal.  It's a great cause.


And now, Gentle Readers, I'm going to bed. My brain has stopped churning, it's raining and I'm very happy.  


Sleep well - I will.


Ciao!

Life

Sucks sometimes, doesn't it?  It's 4.42am.  We had people round yesterday (12 adults, seven children), it was so hot (hottest Australia Day in 20 years, apparently) & humid I felt like a damp rag all day, I couldn't even stand the thought of earrings (and if you know me, you'll know how serious that is) and I changed clothes twice before the guests arrived because I was a damp and floppy mess.


So, the thing is that I'm really tired - all the prep required to feed 19 people, the organisation, getting everybody to eat some salad (go Ryan!), the cleanup... but they were all gone by 6.30pm, mostly because today is a work day (for nearly everybody) & I fell asleep on the sofa afterwards until the cricket finished (we lost) and Mr Golightly dragged me to bed (by the hair, whoo hoo).  


So, if I'm so tired, why am I up at 4.46am?  I'm up at 4.46am because somebody said something thoughtless to me (no, not one of my guests) and it's churning rounding in my brain, and stopping me from sleeping.  It's one of those things that you can't bring up with the thoughtless person to discuss, because that will just cause angst and unpleasantness, at a time when those two are definitely unwelcome in our houses.  It's one of those things you just have to leave churning, wait for your brain to process it, and catch up on your sleep later in the day.  


Also, there are times when trying to explain or clarify just makes you look defensive, and when the person you love most in the world assures you that it wasn't your doing, you realise you don't have to defend or explain.  You just have to let it go.  And that's hard, sometimes.  Especially when you thought you'd reached a place where the thoughtless remark would no longer occur.  And that's why life sucks.  Because no matter what lengths you go to, what extremes, how much you put your own life on hold, how selfless you are, the thoughtless remark will always do its evil work and reduce you back to the role of 'not quite good enough'.


And that's why I'm awake at 4.58am, still trying to be good enough.  Now, back to bed, Gentle Readers and try to sleep. 


Buona notte.

Time flies

What a day and what night.  I'm pretty sure I've mentioned once or twice or three times how much I hate summer.  We went to Morpeth on Sunday, just to wander the streets and look at the interesting architectural features:

and I got sunburnt.  Even though I had a hat on, I'd forgotten the sunblock.  I have now officially developed what Mr Golightly so charmingly refers to as a 'Westie Tan'.  You know, Gentle Readers, the sort of tan on those people who work outdoors, or who don't get to the beach much, so that it starts above the sockline, stops at the shorts, starts again at the neckline up to the face, and all the arms which aren't covered up.


I wouldn't mind so much, but I've got a bunch of white spots (absence of melanin) on my arms, and with the combination of brown skin with white spots and white skin with sandfly bite scars, I look like some kind of alien.


What else?  Sleep was hard to come by, even with the southerly sweeping through at about 9.30pm, but eventually I went off, but today I feel like I usually do after a bad summer sleep.  Crappy.


I have lots to do today, shopping for food for the Hordes** who are descending tomorrow, and maybe, in the afternoon, a spot of sewing.  I'm going to start on a dressing gown, I think.  Mine first, so I can iron out all the bugs before I make the other two.  The fabric?

And for Az:

And now, Gentle Readers, much as I would love to crawl back into bed for an hour or so, the siren song of Woolworths is too hard to resist, and I must away, away to the supermarket.


Ciao!

**Quasi-Annual BBQ for the Friends.  Usually fun.  Usually.

Weekends in Burgundy

Well, not quite, but we spend quite a lot of time with Mr & Mrs Grand Cru** Vineyard, of Burgundy, France, who are here for Vintage (that's grape picking, for youse not in the know of the vineyard lingo)...


They are lovely people, except Mr Grand Cru is a fiercely competitive Scrabble player, and we played quite a few games of multilingual scrabble, which was great because some things are spelt just far enough off the English spelling that we could use up some odd letters - and Mr Golightly's crowning glory, was zero, which he managed to get in the bottom left hand corner of the scrabble board, which is, of course, a triple word score.  Ten for z, 1 for e, 1 for r, 1 for o, 39 points, thank you very much.  


I took a few pictures:


Dusk:

Dinner:

Dog:

Dark (almost):

And we drank lots of great wine in good company:

And the weather was perfect:

I discussed upholstery options with Kaz, who has a small bench she wants to reupholster in this:

which I've had sitting in the 'Home Dec' box since April 2009, just waiting for the right project... 

We bought some gorgeous quilt backing (108"/274cm wide) From Busy Needles, in Singleton, to make new dressing gowns for me, Kaz & Az and although I had already bought a pattern from Folkwear, we popped into Spotlight & picked up something a bit less... fiddly?  Ornate?  I should be able to get started on these after Wednesday, but I did wash the material tonight, which was a smart move considering how much blue dye came out in the water... I may even wash them again once they're dry, just to make sure it all comes out in the wash.  Sorry, couldn't help myself.

And we won the cricket, so it was one of those weekends which are all good, but now, Gentle Readers, I am knackered, so it's goodnight from me, and Ciao! from him.

Ciao Ciao!  

**Interested?  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cru_(wine)

What a day...

Well, yesterday I felt a bit like a Roman Empress, being fed, feted, fawned over.  Almost.  Yesterday was a day of food, drink, food, drink, food, drink.  With some good company added in for good measure, and a large dose of doing nothing more strenuous than moving from venue to venue.

Did you know, Gentle Readers, that public buildings which have chairs in their lobbies are great places to sit & read, or sit & listen to music, whilst waiting for one's next appointment?  No purchase required.


So, in the morning (really early, compared to my recent lifestyle), I got the bus into town with Mr Golightly.  I'd forgotten how he always likes to pretend my somewhat large bottom is pushing him off the seat into the aisle... anyway, dip the ticket, 6.53, onto the bus, and of course because it's still school holidays, the bus was empty (well, that and the fact that it starts just round the corner from our bus stop, so you'd expect it to be empty).  By the time we'd wended our weary way into town at 8.00, it was standing room only, school holidays or no.


I met up with my lovely former colleague The Jaxster, and my mentor and former-former boss, the gorgeous Q, and we had a huge breakfast and planned our strategy for the assault on available jobs in the August Institution when I return (l'orrore!) in March. 


That took until 10.00am.  Then Q and I wandered up to the big building with the TV studio in it, which also has offices of the August Institution, and I rang Babs, who was in my team last year, and we met for coffee and gossip information interchange.  


So then it was 11.00, and I had an early lunch date at 11.30 (note - I have never felt less like eating lunch than I did at 11.30am yesterday) with SD, another former colleague, where we chatted on like really old friends, rather than people who worked together for 3 brief and ugly months, until 3.00pm.  I also poured an expensive G&T all over the table and her cardi, and ate a fantastic Caesar Salad that I really didn't want, but enjoyed, nonetheless.


After we parted company, I wandered down to one of the new chrome & glass edifices which they are throwing up all over town, trying to convince us all that people who come to Sydney want to see 'an international city', which is a bullshit way of saying 'we get to knock down interesting old buildings and build new, shiny, crappy, gone in 10 years, stuff'. 

Nobody who comes to visit a new country wants to see the same buildings they can see in every other country!  They want to see buildings that tell how we got to where we are, that say something about who we are.  Ahem.


Anyway, I wandered into Trenery, which is an off-shoot of Country Road, almost an institution in Australia, a clothing company which has been around for about 30 years, but which doesn't make anything above a size 14 because "they don't want fat people (fat!) to wear their clothes".  Since when is anybody who's a size 16 fat?  Maybe if you were 4' tall & 100 kilos?  Tossers.

Anyway, Trenery is "a new label for men and women who appreciate the beauty of a simple, sophisticated collection that is modern in approach and classic in style."

And expensive. Don't forget expensive. But apparently not quite so elitist as Country Road, because they make things in XXL, which in the real world, translates to things a slightly tubby 5'6" person can wear (ie, me).  Note:  This is not me.  Really.

Then, I went to Eckersleys, the arts supply shop & fed my ribbon addiction a bit more, by which time it was 4.00pm, and I was supposed to be heading home.  Anyway, after a brief, somewhat terse discussion with Mr G, I stayed in town, had a drink at one of my after-work favourites, which I'm not going to tell you the name of, in case it gets any more popular, and then Mr G joined me.  One Negroni Aranciata and large glass of Trummer Pils later, we were in a taxi heading to my Nephew's place, for yet more food.

I felt like Mr Creosote by the time he bought out the cheesecake.  Phew.  Dinner was fabulous though, lots of great conversation around form versus function, the role of art in life, whether graffiti was an art form, whether you could really inherit skills & the desire to use them from grandparents you'd never met (opinions please!)... all the good stuff.  I dipped me lid* to My Nephew's beliefs, buying a white wine called 'Two Churches', and a red called 'Faith'... the red was lovely, the white had too much sulphur in it & I was sweating like a pig after one glass...  maybe the sulphur we're going to encounter when we got to hell?  If I believed in hell, of course...

Then we watched a fascinating DVD about Banksy, who is a very interesting man, and which led to more questions about what Art is, whether you can truly be called an artist if you have no skills but just pay people to make stuff for you, stuff which is incredibly derivative of things you'd seen other people do, right down to the painted animals, and whether the whole thing was a Banksy-driven hoax... then we got in a taxi & came home & collapsed.  It was midnight.  I was stuffed full of food.  I was knackered.  

And that, Gentle Readers, is how I come to be still in my PJ's at 9.25am, thinking about more sleep and whether I can go through the weekend without eating anything at all.  


We shall see.  Ciao!


*aussie term for acknowledges

Check this out!

These gorgeous brooches come from a fellow Sydney Etsyan, Alittleredribbon (I hate the way Etsy makes yousquishupyournames.  A Little Red Ribbon.  I've got family birthdays coming up & you know what?  This could be the winner - plus, I love her photos - I must write & ask her how she does it, mine always look like the bridge between amateur and complete chaos.

In other news, the mosquito plague that has taken over from the sandfly plague is still driving me nuts in the night, two bites around the left eye & I look like I've got 2 rounds with Aussie Joe Bugner in his prime.  No pictures of that, I promise you!


Yesterday we went to town, and the Kidlets and I checked out Kunokiniya, which is an amazing bookshop - I love it - not sure about the Kidlets though, they seemed a bit overwhelmed - but they were pretty keen on the Apple store.  I love the way they just let you wander through, playing with stuff.  It's a pretty neat way to get people to buy your stuff, if you ask me.  Shame we can't do that with jewellers, isn't it, or fabric stores?  I just need 3 metres of this to play with for a while....  Can't see it taking off.  Shame, that.


And so, because we were in town all day, no progress was made on the quilting, but I did get the lavender bags for AusDisasterRelief made & packaged up, ready to be posted off today... and I think I'll put another lot in their shop, because they came out very nicely & they are fabulous, if I say so myself.


I made a wonderful (imho) treasury, 'Do androids dream of electric sheep', which is a book by Philip K Dick, a very clever man who knew a lot about what the future might look like, and I slept badly (again).


And for now, that's it.  I'm going to finish sewing the sashing together now, then start stitching the quilt back together.  If you need anything, just yell, OK?


Ciao!