a tale of two old ladies

Tinkingbell sent out the challenge to write about our homes.

She lives in a stunning old home complete with a tower or widow's walk that I'd love to have. While jealous I'm still delighted with my houses, both haunted by lovely old ladies.

You see, I'm a lucky gal who has two; my first was my bachelor pad that did us well until there was one child when we decided to move about 500m as the crow flies to our present home.

We bought our present home the day it came on the market. It was everything we wanted. Big rooms, plenty of yard and character.
Our 'old' house had character but lacked room. It was a cottage, stand alone yes, but with two bedrooms, a lounge, an eat-in kitchen and a tiny bathroom and laundry it was getting cramped. It is a solid place with cedar skirting boards, dada boards, picture rails, the works. A beautiful fire place and a wood stove in the kitchen that made the best scones and kept the house warm in winter. But it was too small.

So off I went hunting and I found it. A large block, still in a spit of the town, in walking distance of the city's best cafes, on transport links and with almost a third of an acre block.
Best part of it was the huge hedge out the front that shielded the house from drive byes.
I'd had a stalker for several years. Nothing violent, but disconcerting all the same so the hedge sold me before I even went inside.
The place was built in the early 1990s and was cavity brick, with patterned ceilings in every room bar the back built-in veranda that became the kitchen, bathroom and dining area.

The back yard was once a formal garden but had fallen into such a state that we couldn't see the back fence. We didn't know about the two mulberry trees at the back of the yard or the fruiting mango tree less than two metres from the lounge room window either. We had lived here three years before we found that tree.
The house has patterned and coloured glass, the floorboards are wide and the place although in need of paint and in some places, paint stripper, was perfect.
The plan was to build an extension on the back with a new bathroom, kitchen and family room to go with the three bedrooms and lounge room, but of course every time I manage to undertake something big like a new mortgage, I get pregnant so while we got the plans for the extension the week Zegal was born, they are still sitting in the filing cabinet.

But unlike my old house, this place has huge rooms, massive rooms, and two of the bedrooms have working fireplaces, as does the lounge room which has been treated to a deep red paint job. We've been able to cope, but are now working towards revised plans that include more space, because while the plans we had drawn up were great for a family of four, we are now a family of five.
For me the best thing about the house is the old shed built in the 50s that I've lined and turned into my workspace.

Another funny thing about my homes is that both are never called mine by the neighbours.
My old house is old Maisies house after the woman who was born there and lived there until she was taken off to a nursing home. In that street and all through the suburb, most of the homes are still owned by the same families for the past 100 years, so Maisies house it will always be.
The same thing has happened at our new place. The block of land was bought in the late 1800s by a family who built the house. They had a daughter who was born in the house and when she married and became Mrs Roberts, she ended up back in the house raising her children and was said to have had the most incredible gardens. She died about 18 months before we bought the house, but again in our street most of the residents remember her, going to play in her gardens and being given fruit from her trees.
Even delivery blokes and taxi drivers refer to our house as Mrs Robert's and the couple who bought the place after her death swear that she used to sit on the end of their bed and tut tut at them. They used to say she didn't like gay men in her house, personally I think it was the state that they let her gardens fall into, because even when she wasn't able to garden herself she had teams of gardeners come in and do it for her. Even the front hedge was trimmed once a month, so I dread to think what she would say about the tuffs on top of it at the moment.
I think I've only seen her once, but that was when Jar was three months old and due to his tiny size when born I hadn't slept more than two hours in a stretch and was starting to dream while awake. One day I was sitting and feeding Jar when I swear an old lady sat down in the lounge and talked to me. I realised later on that it was probably not a good idea to tell the fellow about my visitor and that until I managed to get some sleep I should turn in my car keys as well.


At the old house I've had painters refuse to go back in after being shaken off ladders. I think they were trying to do a quick lick rather than a decent job and Maisie didn't like it. It often sounded like people were walking up and down the hall way in that house but the house was so nice and warm and friendly and I was never shaken off a ladder when painting myself. The only time it got really scary was when an answering machine which wasn't plugged into anything, telephone lines or power, started recording things. No I wasn't drinking at the time but Tash and I certainly raced for a bottle of something after that event, coming as it did days after our best friend died. I've still got the tape, but have no idea what was on it as it is just a mess of noise.

So this is the tale of my house and my old house, Maisie's house and Mrs Robert's house.

The photos are all from Mrs Robert's house, and this bottom one is what people see above the front door when they walk in the gate: Two old goats skulls, the perfect remedy to scare religious nutters away.

happy sad week

As the last post pointed out, this is the season for anniversaries.
I had a birthday, a blog birthday, a wedding anniversary and this week marked the 10th anniversary of the death of my best mate whose was Foatboy's godfather, though the jury is out on whether he did renounced the devil or not.
So it has been a strange week all round.
I wrote a long post about what he was, what he meant to me, how he drove me fucking insane at times. But in the end he is-was more than mere words on a page floating around the internet so I hit delete.
Instead I'll show you the clock that moved into the house this week, a circa 1850s American oak long case clock.
If Murray had managed to avoid his black dog this clock would be one of the things I'd be catching him trying to drag out of the house during one of his ever revolving moving in and moving outs.
We worked out one drunken night that the two of us were real family, how else could you account for the fact that we moved in and out of each other's houses, nursed each other during romantic disasters and illnesses and still loved each other madly.

Next post there will be some stitching action, including Squidy, the crochet cat toy.

mum i need a costume for tomorrow

Well it wasn't that bad, I had a few days notice that I had to make a lizard costume for a play. Not just any lizard, a blue tongue lizard.

So I headed into the shed and last night pulled out some olive chenille and made pants, a shirt (forget buttons I needed quick velcro action), a head piece and webbed mittens. Add a few eyes and a blue tongue to the head piece and Zgal become a blue tongue lizard.

Just in case the audience can't see the blue chenille, she is sucking on a blueberry lollipop to turn her own tongue blue for tonight's performance.

b'day gal

There is a birthday in the house. And she's excited cause she is seven on the seventh.
And as usual the princess in the middle has been spoilt. Wrapped up ready to be opened after cake tonight is some Meccano. She already has her new DS Lite on charge and will no doubt be opening more presents from T (uncle) and grandparents tonight.

And then there is the bowling party on Saturday. Spoilt, yes, is there anything I can do to tame her Dad, no.

You may notice a lone top front tooth in this pic, well she managed to wiggle it so much that she lost it the day before.

"Guess what Mummy, I'm a song, it's All I Want For Christmas Is My"

you can sing the rest.

As for knitting, almost finished the daycare jumper for the fella and the Jet cardi I have been knitting in secret for the Zgal will be finished for the party. Hopefully.

what my nanna did

Often during school holidays I'd go and spent time with my Nanna, the one that taught me first to hook then knit.
She also showed me how to paint with water colours properly and to throw a pot, glaze it and how it was 'baked'. Along the way she also taught me to embroider and read music and some where during one of those school holidays we made knitting needle bangles.

How long ago I have no idea, just like how she made them. So I scratched that empty head of mine and gathered together some old plastic knitting needles, my oblong (now is n't that a word from my childhood) fish steamer which I use for dying wool and some tweezers and Zgal and I set to work.

So here is how you do it. Boil the water, throw in the needles, give them about five minutes at a rolling boil, grab a needle out with a pair of tweezers and then quickly wrap around a tin or a bottle, plunge into cold water and you have a bangle. If it doesn't work properly, just throw it back into the water again to soften and then have another go.

Yes the needles are hot, but wear gloves to do this, and no, you don't put marks on the needles when handling them, they are soft, but not that soft.

So we made 17 using needles that were in a tin in the kitchen. Yes there are needles all through the house, and I can see some more school holiday bangles being made.


ADDED: We have a competition, do you want a bangle, just go here to read the details and post a comment or send me an email!!

when i go out

This post was going to be all about the knitting I've been doing, the sewing. But there really hasn't been much of that lately. I've been under the gun to squeeze several week's worth of work into my days as I'm off on holidays for a fortnight, which of course means covering as much of my work for that time off. It isn't written down anywhere that I have to do it, let's just say it is expected.

Often it is best to do it, rather than leaving it for relief people, because when I have I end up spending the first week back ringing and saying sorry for the messes that they have created.

But something has been happening when I've been out of the house, the boys decided to cook.
You see the fellow is a marvelous cook. He'll look at a recipe and without physically doing it, he knows what he can change, how he can improve it, and he is usually right.
Yesterday he set about making his famous chocolate mousse cake, which involves fresh eggs from our girls, sugar, cream and plenty of dark, dark chocolate.
It is a favourite in the house and goes down a treat. But the best part of cooking with Dad is the licking of the big bowl and the saucepan in which he melts the chocolate.

Yes Jar Jar loves cooking with his dad. He doesn't really like the showering afterwards to get it out of his hair and from his ears and nostrils.

little visitors

There have been plenty of visitors lately, some welcome and some not so.
Before someone left little white paw prints all through the house from the back door to the front, there were a few other callers.

Yes our friends Gastro and Flu decided to come and stay and bug us, which is why there hasn't been much action here lately.

But at least having those extra visitors in the house made us realise that we have to do something quickly about the one bathroom issue with this house. So plans are being sent back to the drawing board and hopefully by the end of the year we will have more space.

You see our house is big, well the rooms are HUGE, but there are just three bedrooms and a massive lounge room, a central hall and a closed in back veranda that serves as a kitchen and dining room with the other end turned into a bathroom.

Fine for when we moved in as a family with one child, and the plans we had drawn up were perfect for two children and were finished off the week I had the second child but were left rolled up in a desk somewhere.
So now with three children, we have to look at the plans again and work out just what we need.
We need a bedroom for each child. Simple. We need a two story 'shed' with downstairs for the normal function of a shed, in other words to store the car and the power tools with upstairs for my sewing and hiding from the family. The bottom of the shed will also contain a separate laundry and a shower and toilet as I have a huge hate of laundries in the house. Once you have the luxury of an separate laundry even if it is falling down you realise the benefits of having that drier and noisy machine outside.

The house will have a rejigged bathroom with a separate shower and bath, and a massive hallway in the new part with cupboards on BOTH sides and a large family dining area and a covered, deep and wide veranda and a study. Not to mention a kitchen that contains an oven that works, tiles that stay on the wall and maybe some room to swing a cat.

So the next few months are plotting and planning. Plotting the new house, planning how I can make the transition from full-time to part-time work in an effort to slow down the nerve damage to my arm, because if a girl is getting a new shed, she wants to be able to enjoy it.

The other pic is a quick quilt top made from chenille. Simple and only small squares so I could cut out the material without help and anyway, chenille hides wonky seams perfectly.

snailalia post

The post office has been the major focus of the week. Lots of little red and white cards in the post office box.

There was a swag of five ply discontinued wool from Tapestry and Craft. Kris from T&C rang me and it was a strange conversation. Firstly I was in the iron lift of doom at work and the voice on the line was dropping in and out but I distinctly heard the word Zephyrama. Now the number she had rung thru on was the craft mafia mobile so at first I thought it was a store or order call from a customer, but no, the lift doors opened, I managed to get into some air and it all became clear. It was Kris spookin' Ravelry people by using their avatar names and she was calling to make a change in the colours. So I ended up with a pretty purple.

Another postie parcel was a new lot of clothing labels, I can't believe how many we have gone through, and then there was six skeins of beauty, a couple of books, Porco Rosso and Japanese Godzilla movies.

Then there was a special parcel post marked December 20 from SA with a few fantastic children's sewing patterns from the 1960s. I knew these had been sent and despite the time lapse wasn't too worried until I realised it had been more than a month since the lovely and blogless Gigi popped them in the post box.

There have been a few late postal problems this week, so I'm hoping that my Dec 20 arrival will help send Miss Ks latest round of uni text books her way (also posted in late December and needed as she is doing it online and forgoing the traditional summer uni break) and that the Tea Cosy Swap for KatieV also manages to get to her.

The special tea cosy, made to match her green and yellow accented kitchen was posted three weeks ago from Tassie, but considering the five weeks for my parcel to make it, there is still hope.

Or maybe I'm just a little bit more laid back than others? Anyway I have gone into overdrive to finish the angel tea cosy package and I'm not giving away any spoilers.

In other news, well there isn't much, other than the fella's car getting stuck in reverse, well it was until Uncle T gave it a clout, and now it's stuck in forward. Thankfully he is in Brisvegas most of this week, then Perth the following so we won't feel the pinch of being down a car while it is getting fixed.

We will be borrowing a car for the time he is in town but would my father hand over an exotic look-at-me car, no, so I'll end up with one of the cars I learnt to drive on all those years ago, a long wheel base Landrover 110, the first one sold in Australia to be precise. And cause the fella has Landy issues, I get to drive it.

The first time the fella jumped into the Landy he stalled it and you just don't want to ask about the time he tried to reverse a trailer at the dump. Well okay, imagine a bloke stuffing up reversing a trailer at the dump with all the dump guys watching. Then having to get his heavily pregnant missus to climb out, waddle around and climb up into the drivers seat and shift that Landy quick smart. No, we don't talk about the Fella and the Landy.

Oh and for those in the big smoke, I need some ideas of decent places to eat around here. I'll be down for a two day and night gabfest because boss hunting season is about to start. The agenda looks insane with no chance of escaping around the corner to York street and the yarn delights of T&C, but I'm hoping that if I get up early enough I may be able to indulge in a decent breakfast. So what's good around there for pre-9am feasts?

noropup

Despite having a single waving lace sock and a retro rib sock both crying out for partners, I've ended up casting on what many have dubbed the noropup.

Well this time it is toe up, two on two, with one Addi lace and one Knit Picks needle and I have to say, the Knit Picks is pointier than the Addi. But never mind, the different coloured needles make it easier.

Now the thing about this Noro is that it is extremely fine, so fine in fact that when I tugged tight to avoid ladders the bastard snapped on me, leaving a tiny tail. But ha, I wasn't defeated, no Noro is going to knock me over. Instead a quick weave and decent thump down on the table as punishment and noropup started behaving again.

Other than that, not much has happened, I'm back in the office and it's a drag behaving like a grown up.

And my grandmother seems fine. Mum flew over with the news that she would need a stiff tailwind if she wanted to see her mother alive, but half way through her flight we got the call her that her heart rate was normal again (it was around 40) and she had stopped rambling and was drinking and eating properly. Seems like she had an infection that knocked her around enough to go to hospital and then made her sound like a senile old duck.

But it doesn't look like she'll be going back home, rather she will be transferred back to the local infirmary and my mum and my uncle will be looking at care options.

a three hour drive to get to a real yarn store

I finally managed to gather together most of the sock yarn purchases from the past couple of weeks.
A lot of the yarns bought were ones I've read about and seen on blogs but had never touched in person.
While some are happy to buy without touching, squishing and yes, sniffing, I'm not, particularly considering the cost of the yarn and then the postage on top.

I can't just go to a yarn store and buy sock yarn. Patonyle yes, but it's an hour round trip at least. I've had people tell me to stop being upset about Patonyle being discontinued as there are so many lovely hand dyed sock yarns available in yarn stores.
There might be where they live, but it is a three plus hour drive to get to the closest store that stocks anything coming close to a hand dyed yarn. In fact that same store would also be the closest store that is a yarn store, not a quilt, beading, fabric, clothing store, that has put up a stand of ACS in the corner.

But my lust for sock yarn and my need to try other yarns without wasting money on unfortunate purchases has been solved. A lot of this yarn (barring the Ranco and knittery) was bought via Ravelry in the trades and swaps, which means heavily discounted and decent postage costs from overseas. Yes I can have some Jitterbug socks for less than a pair of Patonyle, ditto for the KPPM, Cherry Tree Hill, Wildfoote and that's all delivered to my door I don't have a huge drive on my hands either.

So now I'll begin the process of finding out if I like these particular yarns, if they stand up to the various reviews around the place.
So in this little pile of merino goodness are two hanks of Jitterbug (bottom aqua and left side pinks and red). The KPPM is in the tuxedo colourway on the bottom left, then there is some Brown Sheep lime green, some purple variegated Knit Picks and some Skacel stretch. Hidden somewhere else is a heap of Regia and I also bought more Knittery and three Rancos in a brick red, variegated purple and solid grey. The top is already caked and ready to be cast on Cherry Tree Hill which I don't mind at all, having already scored some a few years ago.

Now if I like any of these previously exotic I won't have any qualms in handing over cash at online stores, but I have to try them first and this is an easy and cheap way to do it. So far none of the deals have gone sour, I've trusted the seller and all has been good.

And then there is the Noro sock yarn. Yes it is scratchy and feels tough and seems incredibly thin, despite this extreme closeup making the yarn look plump.


But before I start knitting there are a few other pairs that have to be finished.


In other sock news, I no longer have to the 20th to finish my grandmother's socks. Yesterday my mother had 'the call' and had to scramble to get the first available flight to Manchester. The earliest is this Monday, so I doubt I can finish anything by then and I do hope grandma manages to hang on, the mind is sharp as a tack even thou she is in her 90s, but the body is old.

merry crimbo

So much to eat, so much sweet stuff, so many pressies, so much yarn, so many books and patterns.

It's hard to know where to start, that I won't tonight, but here is a pic of the Jar trying his best to pose for a photo when his mouth is full of yummy biscuit from spiraling.

what have i done?

The oldest, Foat, does drama at the same drama company I went to as a child and will soon be performing in his first play.
Talking to the director at knitting on Monday night I mentioned that if they needed help with costumes, I could rev up the machine. She laughed and said she'd already dobbed me in to do it.
So last night I had the call. 58 pairs of calico pants and a dozen or so aprons. Fine I don't have to do them all, another mum will be doing some as well.
But the catch is the art director has yet to get the material. So by the time this happens I'll have less than a fortnight to do about 30 pants, and considering I have the same deadline for Zegal's jumper for the snow and several big craft markets to sew for I'm thinking of getting drunk!
So it's going to be a busy time ahead. I don't mind the doing the costumes, but only a fortnight to get so much done is really pushing it and I have a feeling the other mum (who has worked in the fashion industry) would probably have the same feelings as I do towards the art director. It's not as if he hasn't had a year's notice of when the play would be and the gist of the script.
And of course I signed up for Southern Summer of Socks.

finally

Yes finally, after registering last year I finally have a store up and running in Etsy.
I'd left it so long that I had to get them to unblock my registration. Oh my, just add that to the list of things I haven't done that I should.
So head to the zephyrama shop and see what you can find. At the moment there are only a few things, but as I work out how to use the camera (like who reads or even keeps the manual handy?) the pictures should get better and I will take advantage of daylight savings to head over to the store and take some decent pictures. There are plenty more to come for kids and women and then the monsters.... oh the monsters.


And notification of a deadline. In three weeks (and she's counting) Zgal and Daddy head off to the snow to do some possum trapping (all in the name of research, they are released don't fear, but they won't shave them for me to spin the fur) and she told me she needs new jumpers.
While it may be November-December this fool hardy duo will be on the mountains, on the boulder fields and other than last year it always snows where they go.
Last year I spent the days before they went making longjohns and bank robber disguises for Zgal, I just hope she hasn't grown too much.
But it means that all socks are stalled as I try and get the red jumper finished in time. Just the front and back to go as I've divided already for the arms, but those sleeves, I hate sleeves, but maybe in the round they will be easier to cope with.