Category Archive

What a fascinating discussion that turned out to be! Thanks everyone who commented. There is one thing I would like to clarify. My comments were not about all traditional quilts, but rather about a particular type of quilt that, to my mind, seem to be made for the purpose of competition. Also, I would like to stress that these quilts are amazing, I admire the effort that they require and I am glad that they are made. We need excellence in all things. My point was that they fail to move me. One of the things that I most love about quilting is that there is room for everyone and every style. As for my lack of participation in the discussion - I didn’t just lay low, honestly! I’ve actually been away for a little holiday.

This is where I’ve been:

This is Cape Tribulation, a World Heritage listed rainforest in Far North Queensland ( a couple of hours north of Cairns).
It is the last remnant of Gondwanaland and one of the most magical places I have ever been. It felt like a privilege to be there (let’s face it, it IS a privilege to be there!). I kept expecting to see a dinosaur! But, no, we only met these guys…

Oh, and him…

On a crafty note, more knitting and crocheting coming soon to this blog…

I’ve just had an epiphany.

That sounds very grand but it really isn’t. I was just looking at Moonstitches’ wonderful photos from the 2008 Tokyo International Great Quilt Festival (which, by the way, have been viewed on flickr 22528 times!!) and I realised why something has bothered me for years.
You know those technically brilliant, amazing, prize-winning, stitching-masterpieces-type quilts that win all the big shows? You know the kind I mean, right? (I’m not going to put any pictures here because (1) I can’t and never will be able to make one. (2) I’m not going to poo on anyone who can - I admire them.) They tend to be very traditional or, at the least, very formal in design and they are almost always made by hand, taking 124356962143 hours off the maker’s lifeof hard slog and use up at least 249365983 yards of thread.
Have you ever looked at one of those and gone,”Really clever…but…meh…”? That’s how I feel almost every time I look at them. Even when the teensy tiny invisible stitches make me gasp… they still leave me cold.
Here’s the epiphany part:
It’s because they don’t celebrate fabric. They could be made in any number of media and work just as well as designs. In fact, sometimes I’ve wondered “Why didn’t you just paint it?”(or mosaic it, or build it…)
They lack soul. They may have beauty and they may contain the blood, sweat and tears of the quilter, but still they lack soul and so they fail to move me.

So, what do you think? Aside from the obvious technical accomplishment, what do you think these quilts achieve/say/express?

Edited to add: more fabulous photos of the Tokyo Festival here courtesy of Movinghands!

So, ages and ages ago Estea wrote a really cool post called Worth Every Penny. I thought it was brilliant. Here are my additions:

1. Origins “Never a Dull Moment” facial scrub is kind of expensive but really really good stuff.
2. Sheets. If I have one piece of advice for newlyweds/newlybonkings (oh good grief! as if I’d stop at ONE piece of advice!) it is this. Buy good sheets. Every night you will be happy in bed, even if you don’t get any.
3. Coffee. We have banned instant coffee from our home.We decided quite some time ago that we are Grown-ups now and Grown-ups don’t have enough years to waste any of them of crap coffee.
4. Every woman should own at least one Killer Bra that makes her boobs look fake. This bra (pictured above for your pleasure) makes my cleavage so damn hot I almost turn myself on.

Not pictured but equally valuable:
real garlic (Don’t even tell me if you use pre-minced, dried or *gag* powdered garlic. I will not want you as a friend any longer.)
good quality chocolate (see coffee reference above)
down pillows (see sheets reference above)

OK. Give me the scoop! What am I living without that I desperately need?

Every few years I think, “I should knit something.”
That’s because it takes me a few years to forget that although knitting should be easy, in actual fact it isn’t easy and, quite frankly, I’m not very good at it.
I have no clue why I thought I needed a cardigan. It’s only just dropped below 30 degrees Celcius in the last week (I don’t know what that is in Fahrenheit. Hot.) and it never gets cold here anyway.
The real problem started because I was bored at the shops waiting for my daughter and so I bought a knitting magazine. That evil thing seduced me into thinking
a. I can knit
b. I could need something warm one day
c. home-knitted stuff doesn’t look daggy these days
d. this won’t take long

Ha!

I can’t read knitting patterns so I had to make it up as I went along. I didn’t have a clear vision in my head of what I wanted. I get sick of knitting REALLY quickly.So, I ended up with this…

There are bits I really like a lot. Like the red crosses. They were a good idea (they are on the side seams, too, you just can’t see it in the photo). And the crocheted edge is fine.
I don’t like that it’s heavy (I was hoping for light and snuggly. I got heavy and stretchy and reminiscent of an army blanket). And, of course, it doesn’t look nearly as good on my porky bits as it does on my slender daughter.

But, I am far from discouraged. Remember that cool red and white yarn? I have another cardigan started in that. It’s definitely lighter. Should be a bit cooler, too.More of what you might call a “Tropical Knit”.

Day 2 of 7 Days and the theme “Blue”.

“Blue” was…
… being part of a crowd last night that simultaneously all shouted “CUNT!”
My first ever viewing of The Vagina Monologues. There was much to think about, much to nod knowingly about, much to disagree with. I want to see it again in another place with different stories. I’m expecting this to be one of those theatre experiences that sneaks back to visit my thoughts from time to time.

Edited later that day…
Soooo. Veerrryyy interesting… I would have thought a few Vagina-type words would have sent the stats soaring, but noooooo…
All a bit scared, are we?
Nevermind, if the V or C words are worrisome, you could always call it your Thomas Murphy instead!

It’s time for another round of self portraits with 7 Days! I started doing 7 Days for two reasons -
1. Sarah asked me to. And Sarah is lovely and funny and kind and I like her.
2. I thought, “That’s a great way to make oneself more comfortable in one’s own skin.”

Well, it isn’t really. I still look at every photo and gasp at the gazillion imperfections. (can I just point out that my nose looks disproportionately HUGE in this shot because I took it on macro and my nose was the closest point to the lens? I just. needed. to. mention that.)
But sometimes I’m surprised by what I see. Like this one, where I took a photo of myself and inside the camera it turned into a photo of my Dad.

Thank you all for being understanding and sweet. I feel much better thank you *mwah*

I just thought of a third reason for doing 7 Days - I’m a NARCISSIST!!

Some people have a hard time saying Sorry. Our ex-Prime Minister had a bloody hard time saying “Sorry”. He choked and gagged on the word for more than ten years. Tomorrow something Very Important is happening in Australia. Tomorrow our New Prime Minister will apologise, on behalf of the nation, to all those Indigenous People who have been wronged by the monstrous policies of past governments of Australia. It will be broadcast live on television and radio and I will join with millions of others in shedding a tear for the pain that has been suffered by so many, for so long and rejoice with them that finally they have been acknowledged.

Edited to add this link to the full transcript of Kevin Rudd’s speech. Good job, Kevin.

I have a new category/set in my flickr photos. It’s called Blissed Out and it’s where I’m going to put all the photos I take that represent things that give me joy and happy and peace. Today it’s my tidy bookshelves.

ps: if you’re the pervy kind who has to study the titles closely, remember that there are two of us contributing to these shelves and we each have very different taste and we each have very eclectic taste. The Dan Brown/Robert Ludlum/Ben Elton stuff is NOT mine (not that I’m a snob or anything).

Added 21 Jan:
Just thought I’d explain this a little more - it’s not an original idea (wish I was that smart). It’s an idea from a guy called Chris Cobb who did this to the entire content of the Adobe Bookshop in San Francisco in 2004. The installation was called There Is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World and people have been copying him ever since. I’ve had an obsession with colour-ordering stuff since I was a kid, but I’d never considered doing it to my books! I’m going to do the rest of them eventually. I thought Peter would hate it (being an engineer and all) but he just laughed!

I’m just not ready for Christmas. It’s worrying and fretful-making. I usually love Christmas passionately but it’s starting to feel like *whispering now* Too Much Trouble.
Instead of putting up my decorations (was it really only seven years ago that I was teased mercilessly for having more than ten Christmas trees in the house?), I’m selling them on etsy.

Well, not all of them. Just this garland that I made this year. I think it’s great (being a yoyo lover and all) but the kids have given me grief about it (Damn kids. Who said they could have opinions?), so I’m hoping to send it to a home where it is loved and wanted.

Yay! Good news! It IS going to live in a house where it will be loved and petted and folded up nicely on December 31st! Thanks, Michelle :-*

And then there’s this doll I made. I actually made three (they are all different) and I’m asking myself, “Self? Do you even need ONE rag doll at your age, let alone three?” So I’m selling her, too. It’s not her fault that she drew the LONG straw (a ticket out of this mad house is not to be sneezed at!). She just happened to be handy and the other two were hiding.

Maybe as the house clears out a bit, I’ll start to feel calmer? Or maybe I’ll just hide,too, until it’s all over.

Our new office is in an interesting area on the edge of the City Centre, surrounded by other engineering-type businesses. I look through the windows from my desk and see everyone who walks by. I realised yesterday that there are really only Two Types of Passerby - engineers and people who live in the local halfway houses/hostels.
I’m starting to have favourites. My bestest favourite is Waiting-For-the-Mothership-Dude. He wears one of these.

Peter tells me it’s a radio, but I know different. I know he actually waiting for contact from Beyond. And when that Mothership comes, he’s going to be ready. I hope he’s happy in Space.

I met another man this week, who at first glance is very unattractive. Now I am a firm believer that there are very very few truly unattractive people in the world, but he NEARLY qualified. Within minutes, however, I found him to be one of the most appealing people I have ever met - intelligent, charming, witty, principled and, above all, kind. And I swear he became better looking with every passing moment. I remember a teacher at my (girls’) school telling us fourteen year old fools, “Handsome is as handsome does”. We were a little too vacuous, a little too dumb to really understand. She was right. And Fine Character is a powerful antidote to having missed out on the Cute Gene.

This deserves to be an eloquent post, but unfortunately it turned into a ramble. Never mind, right now it’s the best I can do…

There are lots of us in The Mothers Whose Children Have Died Club. But not enough of us talk about it and new members can feel very alone. Even not so new members can feel alone. One of the bloggers I read regularly recently wrote about the death of her daughter and the temptation there is for some to say “It’s been years. Get over it.”
Do we ever get over the death of a child? What does getting over it mean anyway?

If it means forgetting – no.
If it means getting on with living – yes.
If it means going back to the way things were – no.
If it means pretending it didn’t happen – only if you are complete fool.

Our son died at home, sitting on our sofa eating dinner and wheedling at his sister to change channels on the TV. One second we were about to have dinner and the next, well, what happened? What happens in that moment is that everything changes. Every Thing. Nothing is ever like it was. Nothing is untouched. Your whole world has a new colour layered over it that you can’t remove, like a filter on a camera lens. Every thing looks different and, after a while, you are not too sure what the world used to look like.

It’s not just death that does this to us. There are a myriad of traumatic events that people all over the world experience every day. And it isn’t even just Bad Stuff that does this to us. Falling in love does it, too, and giving birth to a child, and so does climbing a mountain.

I suppose I should be drawing some profound conclusion. I’m not sure I can. It just is what it is. It’s just life and living and being human. Life isn’t static, it moves and flows. People come into our lives and people leave our lives. No experience leaves us as it found us. Some experiences are worthy of remembrance, worthy of celebration. They’ve lead us to this place and are part of who we are. What’s to get over?

The part you DO need to get over is the sting of pain that appropriates moments it should just bugger off out of, stealing into the joyous moments of your life where it has no right to be. As you delight in someone else’s new baby, it sends you a glimpse of a little ear that you remember kissing and then sneaks up on you and wallops you hard across the back of the head.
There’s a pain in every new thing you do that doesn’t include your child. Going new places where they are not known hurts. Every new friend who never knew them is a reminder that your child is no longer physically present. You carry them with you, invisibly, and it feels as if the rest of the world is ignoring your precious child, not even acknowledging that they exist. But the truth is that only you know they are there.

That’s what you do need to get beyond, because that’s the part that can become immobilising and crushing. That’s the part that starts to inflict pain on everyone around you.

I have mostly gone past that place, but I’m not sure how. I can’t explain how to do it to other grieving mothers. I wouldn’t even presume to try. But I’m grateful.

You may have noticed the “Handmade Pledge” badge on my sidebar (heaps of other bloggers have them, too). Check out the site that goes with it; it’s a great idea and worth considering. The concept is simple - this Christmas, pledge to buy handmade gifts only. Bugger those big retail outlets. Support a starving artist instead! I’ve been doing quite a bit of it lately, buying stuff from etsy for Christmas. Of course, I can’t show you photos of my purchases because that would ruin the surprise! But I will give you some links to shops I’ve been frequenting
paperologie
madelaine (how extraordinary is this girl? she is only sixteen!!)
tartx
heavenhelpus
remake

My loathing of mega-retail has been building over a long period of time and I know I’m not alone. It’s practically a Movement. En masse we have become fed up with having mass-produced crap forced down our throats by the Nameless and Faceless. Time to cut out the middle man, people! Time to give your money to the artists and crafters and artisans of the world!

Similarly, I am more and more reluctant to give my dosh to Woolworths and Coles and Safeway and the like. I have been making a conscious effort for some time now to support local small businesses. And, interestingly enough, I’ve discovered that it isn’t necessarily more expensive to shop in these businesses. For years I’ve known that small local quilt shops are often cheaper than *cough* Spotlight *you KNOW I hate you* and other chain stores, but now I’ve found that the same is true of our local small grocery store. AND they stock superb products.

So, in the spirit of all that is handmade, here is a peek at what I am currently sewing. I’ve been making this quilt since about 2000! It’s a very very rare thing (for me) - a hand-quilted quilt. I don’t enjoy hand-quilting very much and I’m not very good at it. It will probably take another seven years to finish, even though it’s only cot size.
If you want to see the whole thing, have a look here.

And here is a glorious gift that I received as a surprise in the mail recently. The lovely Miss Mormar sent me this ruler stand made by her aunt.
All quilters know that we live in fear of chipping our brittle rulers (once they are chipped they become pretty much useless) and they are tricky to store. This clever stand props them up on a shelf or desk. Unfortunately her aunt doesn’t have an internet site to buy them from, but I sure appreciate mine! Thank you, D xxx!

If I hadn’t been tagged today for a meme, you wouldn’t have heard a peep out of me for another day or two. So send brickbats or bouquets, depending on how you feel about this, to Kate

Here’s the deal. I tell you stuff basing each thought on a letter from my name.(these are the actual rules: List one fact, word or tidbit that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your first or middle name. You can theme it to your blog or make it general. Then tag one person for each letter of your name.)

We all know I love talking about myself, so this should be easy.

K : kissing is one of my favourite activities in the whole world. My kids hate me for it, and even poor Peter probably cops more than he needs or even wants. Tough. If I love you, you WILL suffer my kisses and you had BETTER at least pretend that you like it. Here’s a funny story that rats out my sister. When she was five and my husband’s lovely brother was about twenty two, she was sitting on his knee smothering his face in kisses. He was doing his best to put up with it while having a conversation with someone else. Eventually, annoyed that he wasn’t paying enough attention to her, she asked him, “Do you like kissing me?” He responded with a “Hmmm”. Full of confidence, she shot back, “Never mind, we’ll get used to it.”

I : intuition. Is it intuition or revelation or something else altogether that hits me over and over when I meet new people? I so often know things about them that I haven’t been told. Serious things, private things. I very seldom tell them what I know, but sometimes I kind of blurt things out. I have tried to ignore this (successfully) at different times of my life. Now I wish I had nurtured it more. Maybe I will yet.

R : regret. Not too many in my life. I wish I had realised earlier in life that I owe other people nothing - no explanations, no commitments, no obligation - unless I choose to. I wish I had known at sixteen how pretty I was and that I wasn’t fat. I wish I had been braver intellectually. I wish I had questioned convention a whole lot more. That’s about it. I can live with that.

S : sister. I’m glad I have one. She is beautiful, graceful, exceptionally talented. She was born when I was 13 and, when I was 18, I married Peter and moved away.She was only five, so for a long time we didn’t know each other very well. These days I think we know each other very well. Here’s another regret - there have been times I’ve hurt her accidentally (the story above was no accident, sorry, M.) And, worse, there have been a couple of times when I knew full well that what I was about to say would hurt. I really wish I hadn’t done that. I wish I’d been a better sister, a less judgmental one, a more understanding one. It took us a while to learn to have an adult relationship. I’m so happy we’ve got there. Meredith, I love you.

T : truth. My brother has been wrestling with this one for a while (love you, too, Jon!). How does one define Truth? I suddenly feel completely unable to answer the question. I’m no longer even sure that I want to try. Isn’t Truth different for each person? What I do know for sure is that honesty is one of the most important things in my life. I value honesty above just about everything else.

and, honestly? I’m too sleepy for this!! T is for Tired.

Y: *yawn*

It probably buggers up memes not to tag people for the next round, but I far prefer to let you self-tag. So go for it.

*ahem* Quiet please, everyone! There are quite a few notices this morning so I’ll try to be quick.

Construction work at The Office is now complete and Peter and Kirsty are slaving over hot computers every day. Peter has written Kirsty’s job description to include “making coffee”. She has to remind him frequently that He Is NOT The Boss Of Her. He counters with “Oh, yes I am” but usually backs down quickly. Even the Managing Director should know his place.

There has been a steady stream of emails over the past week inquiring after Kirsty’s health and general well-being. Thank you all, for your concern ONE of you, however (and YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) (Vel*cough*cro) sent the following impertinent message : “Oi Where are you?”
Young ladies are reminded that the use of casual language is unbecoming.

(HEY, VELCRO!!!! I’m OVER HERE *whistle* !!)

Last weekend, Peter, Kirsty and Ali had a weekend escape to Airlie Beach in The Whitsundays. A lovely time was had by all…

Activities included feeding crackers to cockatoos that visited their apartment balcony, shopping, eating out in a luxurious restaurant with very cute waiters and cruising out to the Barrier Reef on a catamaran. On board the boat, K and P were massaged while floating on the Reef (how awesome is THAT??) and Miss D had her first scuba dive…

She was so excited that she couldn’t stop grinning and laughing. A Monster has now been created and investigations have been made at the local dive school so that the activity can continue.

Excuse me, 4B. Can someone please wake up Miss O’Connor?

It has been decided that regular breaks will be required in the following years and that The Whitsundays, given their close proximity to Townsville, are excellently located for this purpose. It is heartily recommended that those of you who have never been to the Barrier Reef should avail yourselves of this opportunity should it present itself. It truly is one of Life’s Great Gifts.

Monday evenings have been declared to be The Night For Quilting, by a new sewing group. It is pleasing to see students choosing to spend their free time productively (!!) in wholesome activity. I am assured that there is definitely NO loud talking, laughing or chocolate-eating in this group and that they are models of good behaviour. Well done. I can only say that it must be the influence of Tracey, Tanya and Florence.

I am aware that in my absence there have been a number of Unfortunate Events. Some of you have been unwell, suffered bereavement and other sorrows. You have my wholehearted ((hugs)) and love.

We will now all stand QUIETLY and turn to page 47 in your song books.
Hit it, Mrs Feesh…

*sings* In the Garden of Eden, baby, doncha know that I luuu uu uuve you…

Krista left a comment recently that included this:
usually i get the most hits when i’m sharing my DIRT. isn’t that sad? i’m boring unless i’m in crisis. lol.

It got me thinking, because I can say pretty much the same thing. And then, yesterday, a blogger who I am starting to know a little more about, wrote a pained and honest post about some problems he is having. He didn’t ramble on and on and it wasn’t a pity-fest - just stated what was happening and how he felt about it. I related to some of what he wrote and left him a message of support and a “Me, too, mate”.

Today I went back to his post and…

…he’s edited it and removed all of the parts that showed him to be a vulnerable, exposed human being. I felt so sad. As far as I could see no one had said anything mean to him. I’m assuming that he just felt too unsafe baring his soul that way.

Blogging forms connections between people that can be unexpected. There is often debate about the validity of ‘virtual’ relationships and we all see stories on TV about people who fall in love and then meet and realise they don’t even like each other. I don’t particularly care one way or the other whether I would be friends in Real Life with my internet mates, the point is that we connect with and support each other. We genuinely care about each others’ wellbeing. These relationships may be brief - maybe only one comment left on one poignant post - or they can be ongoing over a long period of time.

What’s the difference really between this and spilling your guts to a stranger on a train? Or smiling at a mother whose toddler is throwing a wobbly in the supermarket?

Isn’t ALL emotional connection between people valuable?

This is my new bible… I can thoroughly recommend it. It’s so well-written that I understand it and, as a bonus, it’s even funny!
I’ll put it down long enough to say Hi…

About three or even four weeks ago, Kirsten dished one of these my way…

…which was very cool of her and I’ve been feeling guilty about not responding for about, ooh, three days now! (just kidding really - it’s been weeks) Thank you, Kirsten C., you rockin’ chick, you!
I happen to know countless rockin’ girls, so handing this out will be a piece of cake. I’m supposed to give five awards:
Sussanah has to be on the list, because we all know that she wants to grow up to be a debaser AND she loves her husband, and I’m very much in favour of that.
And Sarah, well, she’s the closest chick I know to a groupie! And she is a superb photographer. And when she’s not playing wii she grows mega-veges.
Nicolette is definitely a rockin’ blogger in any language.I get the impression she can make anything.
Craftymum scares me a bit. She finds more hideous craft stuff than anyone else I know, which makes her a rockin’ blogger in the same way that, say, David Lee Roth is rockin’. Remember him? Small pants, big hair? I know you know what I mean, crafty
Joni has so much energy you can feeling it exploding through the interwaves, or whatever the Internets travel on. She absolutely rocks!

I made another couple of peg aprons today for the etsy shop. I have a real thing for apple green, so it was good for the soul to use some.
I’m really enjoying making projects that don’t take too long. By the way, I haven’t forgotten that I owe some pincushions - they ARE coming, I promise!
And in case you’ve been worried about me and my phone we’re good now. We kind of have an understanding. It doesn’t demand attention from me and I only bother it occasionally.
I even got a text today from the Prodigal. It said “please please please please mummy send red rock deli chips theres money in my acct”.
What a kid! Does he miss me? No, he misses potato chips of the Right Brand!! (and thinks I would want HIM to pay for them !)

Today is A Red Letter Day. Three good things happened today. We are getting a new car (yay). My offer on commercial premises for my husband Peter’s new business was accepted (bigger yay) (and I’ll tell you more about it later)….

…BUT, the BEST NEWS EVER E. V. E. R. is…

… that Myer is coming to Townsville! Non-Australians, let me explain. Myer is a department store. Myer is where I have disposed of 85 % of my husband’s earnings over the last 24 years (OK that’s a little exaggeration. Give me a break, I’m in ecstasy here!). Myer is as close as Heaven on Earth as it is possible to get.

When we moved here, I never thought to ask if there was a Myer. I just assumed that A CITY OF MORE THAN 100 000 PEOPLE WOULD HAVE ONE!!!! I was crushed to discover that Townsville was Myer-less. I had to go to Brisbane or Sydney for a fix!
Then I found out that Cairns has one. CAIRNS??? What has Cairns got that Townsville hasn’t? MYER, that’s what. Until now…

I am so happy

Peter is in shock.

When your feet are as colossal as mine, comfy shoes are a blessing. God bless whoever made Vans.

Shula is a legend. Never have I read a more articulate (and flattering) view of crafters than this post. If ever you have wondered WHY???? when looking at a loved one’s latest craft creation, read this. You will see the light.

Outback Australia is like all wild places - very difficult to imagine. Impossible to understand unless you’ve been there. Kind of fascinating in a scary “glad I don’t live there” way. Oh yeah ! I DID live there! I would love to be able to paint word pictures for you, but I’m not the most articulate individual. What I would most like to be able to do is let you smell it. I know that sounds kind of kinky, but this is a place with a unique smell. I was talking to A Local about it one day. She told me that she loves that smell. To her it means Home. I hate that smell. It’s acrid, salty and to me it means, “Not this bloody place again.” I can see beauty out there, truly I can, but the glimpses I have aren’t enough to feed my soul day in and day out.

I would like to show you these pics, though. This place enthralls me.
It is the original hut on a property that belongs to a couple we are acquainted with. Until a few months ago when they moved a newer house on site, they lived in this hut (along with their three sons) whenever they were at the property to work. You can see the new house through the window of the hut.
While this may look third world, you need to understand the context. Queensland properties (farms, also called stations) can be wild and woolly places. Many of them are very remote and the land is not cultivated - it’s just expanses of scrubby bush that animals are grazed on. Like many property owners, these people own several parcels of land that are many hours travel time apart and they spend varying amounts of time on each property, as the work is required. Their sons go to boarding school.
This hut was built a looong time ago (nobody really knows when but it may be well over a hundred years old).
It has a (mostly) concrete floor, electricity (generator, I think) and running water, although those features are relatively new additions. This wood range was used for cooking and heating water. You can see that there are no glassed windows - just openings with prop-up shutters. It is surprisingly cool in there on a hot day.
While I find it fascinating, I couldn’t stand sleeping in there because it has, on a number of occasions, been known to house snakes. In fact, the owner told us that for a while they had a King Brown (a couple of metres long) living in the rafters that they found hard to budge. Every time they tried to get him, he would flatten himself into a crack and escape their efforts. And, yes, they are deadly poisonous! Eventually, one day, they caught him in the open and he was disposed of.

Interesting place. Wouldn’t want to live there

I’ve been tagged by Jade to list my Top 5 Eating Spots. After Tracey’s post about Top Ten Lists, it will be a challenge to stick to five so I’m limiting myself to eateries in four places I’ve lived.

1. Fifteen years ago Pete and I went to The Walnut Room in Brisbane. I am STILL talking about it. It rates as the absolute-no-competition-alltime-best restaurant I have ever eaten at! The food was good, but the service was outstanding. We had our own exclusive waiter and he was so discreet that he managed to refill my glass without me even noticing. Superb.

2. In Townsville we like to eat breakfast at a cafe called C-bar. The food is nice/average but we like it because we can walk there and it is right on the sea. There is nothing between us and the water. Here’s a photo that Katja blogged a while ago. Wouldn’t you love it too?

New Zealand is FULL of excellent restaurants! I’m not kidding. If you love good food, then you need to book a holiday in New Zealand NOW and go on a restaurant crawl.

3. Palmerston North is not a big place but it is chock full of great places to eat. My favourite is Bella’s. The menu is good, the food is fantastic but, again, what makes the place extra good is the service - it’s one of those lovely places where you feel truly welcomed.

4.Hamilton (my home town) is also overloaded with choice. You can’t beat Scotts Epicurean for breakfast. They make amazing homemade crumpets (nothing like the supermarket kind!) and salmon that I’d walk a hundred miles for (mind you, I seldom meet a salmon I don’t adore).

5. And a few doors down is Metropolis which is practically a Hamilton Institution. And so it should be! It’s impossible not to love the place.

If Peter and I had every dollar we have eaten in restaurants over the years, we would be able to laugh about my dying car!! But we do love a good meal
Where do you like to eat??

I have officially been a T.I.T. for long enough!! (that’s “Tyrant-in-Training”) Today I am Guest Despot on Soozadoo. All visitors will not only be up to date with the new rules (and therefore avoid the Accidental Gaffe) but will also be declared Friends of Kirstadoo and Pretty.

I started reading a new book this morning. “The Sunday Philosophy Club” by Alexander McCall Smith. He is described on the back cover as ‘A treasure of a writer whose books deserve immediate devouring‘. I certainly agree with that statement. I have loved his No1 Ladies’ Detective Agency books (me and 2 047 789 622 other people). Those words got me thinking, though. Immediate devouring. That’s what I do.
Sussanah was describing the contrast between her and her sister’s approach to easter chocolate - she guzzled, her sister hoarded and nibbled. Yesterday I was talking with my mother about how she and my daughter both like to make slow, considered decisions. Mum told me that she enjoys the process of deciding. She savours the choice; enjoys the silences between notes in music as much as the note itself. I’m sure that’s why she is such a passionate reader - she lingers over every word and is absorbed into it.
I’m impetuous. I get frustrated and grumpy and irritated by people who can’t make a decision in ten seconds or less. I want to choose and get on with it. I want to know your gut feeling now, not your carefully considered opinion later. I definitely devour immediately. So, do you suck or crunch?

My sister, her husband and their two little girls (aged six and three) have had a horrible experience. Two days ago they were the first people at a triple fatality car accident involving two motorcycles and a car. The driver of the car was drunk. He had three small children in the car with him. He crossed the centre line and hit two motorcyclists and a pillion passenger head on. My sister told me that there was nothing recognisable left of the motorcycles. She said that they looked as if they had been exploded by a bomb. I won’t tell you about the rider. The pillion passenger had been thrown so far that she wasn’t found for two hours.

I’m trying so hard not to feel angry. My family have had to experience the hideous result of this man’s drunk action. His three children and my two little nieces have seen things that no one should have to see, let alone young children. My sister and her husband are left feeling that they didn’t do enough. How could they? How could anyone do anything? They comforted and cared for three hurt and hysterical children for more than half an hour before the emergency vehicles arrived. I think that was more than enough. Their own children sat in the car for two hours and then saw their parents wear someone else’s blood for the rest of the day. That was more than enough. Now they are all trying to sleep at night.

I’m just so mad at this man for what he’s done to so many, many people.

And so thankful that my family weren’t the ones he hit.

Edited : The death toll is now four. The driver has died.

Here’s a question for you. Would you rather live here (A) Outback Queensland…
…or here (B) The BEACH (North Queensland)?

Strangely enough, I don’t find that difficult to answer. So this coming weekend I’m packing up my stuff and my daughter and moving to (B) The Beach (my son is already there, at university). It is fraught with grief and pain, however, because my darling husband has to stay in (A) for work. So for a while to come we will be living in two different places and seeing each other on weekends (waaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!! *sniff*). We hope that it won’t be for too long.
This isn’t an easy decision to make. But, ultimately it seems the better choice for both of our children (although the Boy Who Will be Giving Up His Freedom would beg to differ!!) and I am nearing the end of my rope living in the bush. I like the community out here very much, but I find the remoteness and smallness gets me down. I said I’d come for two years and those were obviously powerful words - I was fine for two years but since February I have been restless and wriggling. It was soooo hard to leave Sydney when I went to stay with my friend, Robyn, in March. To be in the city and then have to come back here was just an agony…
So this week is all about packing things up and wondering how on earth we are all going to squeeze into our little townhouse in Townsville! A shoe horn may be in order…

ps Thank you all very much for The Birthday Wishes

It’s been far too long between lists, if you ask me! T is for:
Talent: How thankful I am for the talents I see all around me. One of my favourite net things to do is cruise artists websites and check out the extraordinary visions of others.
Tiffanys: is there a woman in the world who wouldn’t swoon over one of those little blue boxes?
Sojourner Truth: who should be every woman’s heroine and chose the best name for herself that I can imagine (and would have been COMPLETELY unmoved by a Tiffanys box!!).
Shaun Tan: if you have never seen Shaun Tan’s books and artwork GO HERE NOW. Every child (and adult) on the planet should own his books. They encourage thought and compassion and vision. Buy them now.
J R R Tolkien (but not YOU Tolstoy)
Torrents: I love rapids and wild waterfalls and monsoonal rain.
Take-off: Taking off in a plane is ALMOST as good as that intense acceleration you get on a roller coaster. I always sit with my eyes closed to really feel it. I sometimes wonder if the people around me think I’m scared…
Trysts: even the word is luscious.
Teenagers and two years olds: they remind us how to see the world through fresh eyes and they are always the BEST company.
Thin Lizzy, “This Boy” by Tom Baxter - let’s face it, ANYTHING by Tom Baxter -the man is gorgeous, “We’re Not Gonna Take It” by Twisted Sister, T-Rex, doing the Time Warp, “Three Little Maids” from The Mikado
Tea with Mussolini, Three Men and a Cradle, Thumbsucker
Tremors and tornados: I’m the only person I know who likes being in earthquakes and I have a morbid fascination with Tornados (ever since I was about eight or nine and experienced a small one). I also realise that they have tragic consequences for many people and that a large earthquake or tornado would cure my interest quickly.
Tosca, Twelfth Night: Tosca always makes me cry and Twelfth Night always makes me laugh.
Television: oh I have such a love/hate thing with TV. I so wish I could say with conceit that I don’t watch TV. It would be a lie. I don’t like much that’s on TV but there are some things I adore - Thunderbirds, Top Gear…
The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass has long been a favourite book and I really enjoyed the movie, too.
Remember Fee Waybill and The Tubes?
Traveling: I’ve done so little, but I dream of traveling constantly. I can see myself living from a suitcase for years.

thistle, tremble,tranquil,tangerine, Tallulah (I wanted to call my daughter this, but it was one of the many names my husband REJECTED), tiaras, tiger lilies, truffles

Tracey tagged me nearly a week ago to do the Real Women meme. It certainly got me thinking (but not writing!) and those brain waves must have floated out into the world cos then Stomper nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award.

See, the problem is that as soon as anyone suggests that I might be in any way cerebral or even slightly smart, my brain atrophies. I can feel my tongue thickening. Not that that will stop a Real Woman from thinking that she has something worthwhile to say…

So, Real Women Know What They Are and What They Aren’t.

I went to one of those slightly posh private girls’ schools and two things stand out for me from my school years as having been significant in forming my beliefs about Real Women. The first is the school motto - Veritate, Simplicitate, Fidelitate. It means that we should live our lives truthfully, straightforwardly and with integrity (and I know that because I studied Latin for four years at that school. Very useful.*cough* If anyone tries to lay waste your country villa, call me - I know how to tell them to fuck off in Latin). At school I was surrounded by female staff members who really did live their lives according to the school motto and they were quite remarkable women.
The second thing that I remember is being aware of some of The Mothers associated with school -The Mothers who over-dressed in designer clothes, drove luxury cars that they didn’t own and spoke like The Queen. They were despicable. Because they were the antithesis of who we were taught to be. They pretended to be something other than what they were. It’s just such a sad way to live your life! If you don’t show the world who you really are then it must mean that you don’t think that the real you is worthy. And the rest of us miss out on the unique gifts that the real you has to offer.

Having just bagged The School Mothers, I will also state that:

Real Women Don’t Stand in Judgment of Others (or pay any attention to their own hypocrisy, it would seem!!).

Most of us try to be the best mothers we can be, most of us have stretchmarks/cellulite/wrinkly necks, most of us clean our own toilets, most of us have at least one toad in our dating past, most of us have had a child who threw a wobbly in a shopping mall, most of us will never own a pair of Manolo Blahniks, most of us could have suffered a lifetime of regret from a poor teenage choice if we hadn’t been so lucky.
Real Women have figured out that life can be hard. Some of us have had blessings beyond what we have deserved; some of us do it tough. Real Women know that we are all in this together and it’s just easier on everyone if we hold hands instead of hitting each other.

I’m meeting so many Real Women in Blogworld - that’s one of the best aspects of blogging. I won’t tag you. You can tag yourself, but I would love to see this meme continue because we all need to remind each other from time to time that we are doing a good job, that we each have a special place in the world and that NO ONE can lay waste our villas if we’re watching each other’s backs.

Maybe some of my Thinking Blogger Award nominees might take up the challenge :
megan, who makes us ALL think with her gentle observations of life
kirsten, a mother whose careful considerations of her children’s needs will bless the world
laura who is clearly a deep feeler and thinker - her sensitivities are more than itchy, rashy skin deep!
caity who thinks of others and lately has been thinking of me!
the mater whose wisdom is worthy of attention and whose humour softens life’s hardships

I think the deal is that you are supposed to nominate five others.You also get to display this badge:
If you have already been nominated, well, just regard yourself as a Thinking Superstar - none of us Real Women will disagree!

Advice for Novice Crocheters (or should that be Crocheteurs??):

1. When the Little Voice in Your Head whispers, “This isn’t working!”, listen to it the first time or it will morph into the Giant Booming Voice of Doom which will roar in your ear for the next three days, “I told you it wasn’t working!! If you’d listened to me you would be halfway to a blanket by now instead of only Row 8 on your THIRD attempt!!!“

2. No matter how much of a Card-carrying Smart Arse you are, and no matter how much like Sanskrit you think crochet patterns look, you SHOULD use a pattern. Making it up as you go along is only clever if you SUCCEED.

3. Mistakes made in Row 1 DO NOT magically disappear by Row 6, no matter how many deals you attempt to strike with God. In fact, they breed overnight. It is possible (nay, probable) to begin with 310 stitches and end with 337. If I had kept going I could have made a charming Christmas Tree Skirt.

4. Read what other successful crocheters are doing. They have all sorts of useful information if only you take five minutes to read it. It will save you at least three days of tantrums, pouting and aching hands. Thanks to some flickr ripple-alongers I found this pattern. Now, if I can figure this pattern out, anyone can.

Here endeth the Lesson.

Drowning in Failure - 7 Days: day 4, originally uploaded by twolimeleaves.

Trying to join in the Ripple Obsession sweeping the crafty blogging world and failing. Crochet, you suck.

I WILL nail this. I am determined.

I think.

I do love a good list and this one on Kate1976s blog caught my attention. You are supposed to mark the books read, want to or again and again if it’s one you keep reading. I’ve done it a bit differently.I wonder who wrote this list? I should have highlighted all the ones I’ve never even heard of!! And added all the ones that I wish were there Maybe another day…

1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown) ho hum big deal
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) Lovely book. Bootiful, in fact.
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien) Loved all of them - couldn’t stop reading and read them all pretty much straight through during the school holidays.
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry) started it. can’t remember why I didn’t finish it.
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling) I can’t remember which of the Harry Potters this is. I read the first one and thought it was so average that I haven’t read any more. I realise that I am far from the target demographic so that isn’t surprising.
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown) so what
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling) see 11
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving) This is one of my preferred Irvings.
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden) Lovely book.
16. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Rowling) see 11
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling) see 11 - how many of these bloody books are there??
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) excellent
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger) I HATED this BORING book. From an historical point of view I can see why it caused a stir, but I kept waiting for something, ANYTHING to happen and couldn’t wait for it to end
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold) Enjoyed it - liked the different and unexpected perspectives
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel) Liked this, too. Unlike all you smarty-pants people, it kept me unaware of the true situation for a LONG time
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte) Yowser! What a fire cracker Miss Bronte must have been!
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) Never really loved this like my friends did.
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck) Like most Steinbeck, powerful and absorbing. Full of characters that you either want to backhand across the room or hug.
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)My son loves this book.
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb) My sister loves this one
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy) This is the single most BORING BOOK I HAVE EVER FAILED TO READ. I can scarcely describe how much I hated it. I’m so sorry, Dad.
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt) Fact or fiction, either way i loved this and found it completely engrossing.
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck) depending on the day that you ask the question, either this or No 51 is my favourite book ever. Mostly it’s this one. AMAZING. You must read it.
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens) My dad is a big Dickens fan and it rubbed off on to me.
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling) More? MORE??
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky) woo hoo! Be prepared for misery and plenty of it.
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy) NO CHANCE IN HELL that I will ever read this. Sorry, Tolstoy. I HATE you. And your dumb books.
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice) Another of my son’s favs.
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller) Interesting. One of those books that has had more of an influence on me than I thought it would. Was reading Harold Pinters plays at the same time and they and this may have screwed with my head rather a lot
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery) Love it big time.
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding) READ
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)Enjoyed it at the time and now don’t remember much about it at all.
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. Tigana (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving) The most original Irving, I think. And one of the better ones.
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams) Not my cup of tea. Too many bunnies and annoying characters.
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding) Another one that has had a huge impact on me. I read this when I was about 11 or 12. Knocked my socks off and really made me think.
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)One of my least enjoyed genres so I’m not a good critic!
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)My favourite book when I was ten. Now it seems so dated! But still has impact.
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce) Never in a million years will I read this. I know this because I read about three pages and nodded off having understood nothing.

I suppose you truly can’t win them all. I saw this in Poppylane’s etsy shop and thought it was cute and would take me half an hour to make. It took all afternoon and turned into this pile of pooh…
I really hate the position of the eyes (I usually get those SO right!
Why didn’t I follow my instincts??).
Edited to add: SOME people make it look SO DARN EASY!

But, I had a day scrapbooking on Thursday and did a number of pages.
This is my favourite.
I love these patterned papers where you just glue stuff down and it looks like you spent hours on it. I’m SO good at cheating. Heh heh.

On a more navel-gazing note, yesterday I was talking to the new Uni Student in our family and he told me how they had done Myers Briggs tests in his management class. It brought back memories of many happy hours reading about myself and my fascinating personality type. So I googled ENFP “The Visionary” *cough cough* and reminded myself of how extraordinary I am. We should probably all do it from time to time because NONE of those things tell you that you are a loser who couldn’t make a cute softie if your childrens lives depended on it. Instead they rave about your strengths (only an Egotist a la ENFP could see “always berating themselves for being so conscious of self” as a strength!) and make you feel as if you are The Most Valuable and Important Personality Type. Not that an ENFP needs to be told that - we all know it anyway. We aren’t really up ourselves, it just that we know that “This type is found in only about 5 percent of the general population, but they have great influence because of their extraordinary impact on others.”
SO true, so true…

crocheted necklace, originally uploaded by twolimeleaves.

You can be honest with me, you know. We’ve been close for long enough. Is this a good idea? Or is it a tragedy? I’m really not sure at this point.
It seemed like a pretty good idea when I was in the throes of Creative Mania!
It all started when I visited Punch Gallery in Balmain. I could have easily spent a fortune in this shop. Oh the Beauty!! Luscious jewellery everywhere I looked. I got especially excited about work by Irwin Rohl - tiny little fragments of words on paper sandwiched with glass and silver or gold (another link). And another artist (whose name I have sadly forgotten) who made wonderful little pin dolls with paper faces and fabric bodies. All very stimulating and somehow while I was in there I had a vision of this necklace.

S is a cool letter. I like the shape of it. I realised when writing this list that now that I am up to Letter Number Nineteen I am becoming rather repetitive. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while you can probably chant the list of my favourite books and films and musicians. There’s nothing mysterious about me, I’m afraid. Still…

Sewing: well, duh. Some times I like sewing. Sometimes it’s a pain in the butt job that has to be done.
Sleeping: I have a natural talent for sleeping. Must be half wombat. Or sloth.
Scrapbooking: I’ve tried not to get interested but it’s so hard not to buy all those really cool papers and who doesn’t want to write about themselves??
Soft things: down pillows and comforters, foamy soap, fluffy angora, babies, my daughter’s ears (ooh she’s going to hate me for that!)
Soaking in Spas (translation: jacuzzis): have a tendency to induce sleep, however, and I worry about drowning.
Starting Things: I’m very good at starting things. Not so good at finishing. I’m what you might call an “Ideas Man”. (calling all fans of The Castle!)
Nina Simone,Bruce Springsteen (don’t laugh at me!),
Dusty Springfield and one of the Great Loves of My Life, Michael Stipe.
I will love Kevin Spacey forever because of American Beauty - enough even to forgive him for K-Pax
I couldn’t take my eyes off of Tilda Swinton in Orlando.
Egon Schiele:one of my favourite painters.
Has anyone out there seen Shortbus yet? Given my love of Hedwig, I’m keen to see it, but it might be a while before I can - North Queensland is a wasteland when it comes to progressive film.
John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath is still my favourite book ever.
Salad: my favourite food, especially green salads. Which should make me skinny but sadly does not.
Silk.
Spirit: all of its meanings Go on. Pick one. OK, not strong alcohol. All the meanings except that.
Symbolism: it’s fun finding the puzzles and being all arty and enigmatic. *hahahha*
Sassafrass: I don’t even know what that is but it sounds very cool.
Singing loudly and wantonly and raucously, even, to my favourite songs.
Sneaking kisses when no one is looking.
Shoes.
Finally, in my haste to dispatch the R list, I forgot a BIG favourite - The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Sorry, Frankie. You know there’ll never be anyone else.

Busy busy busy. Shopping shopping shopping. Mother and Daughter Waxing Trips (man, she can fuss OW OW OW OW OW). Oh, and eating take out food and watching dvds - so maybe not that busy after all Last night I watched Memoirs of a Geisha (very pretty! I really enjoyed it, but it didn’t pack the emotional punch that the book did) then The Virgin Suicides by Sophie Coppola. Been meaning to watch that one for ages and ages. It was damn good, I tell ya! Kirsten Dunst did a fine job, I thought, but Kathleen Turner was great! Then in the morning I watched Brokeback Mountain (living in the Boonies means I miss so many movies and then have to catch up on dvd). I LOVED this movie. It was SOOOO sad. Now I have a traumatised teenager (he had a pillow over his head for all the sex scenes but kept saying, “I can hear it! I can hear it!!” Quite a performance. Nearly better than the movie.
We are leaving Townsville for New Zealand tomorrow morning, so we have laundry and clothes strewn everywhere and I am stressing out about excess baggage (had a dream last night that I had to pay $400 extra) and missing Peter already. That is a bad sign - he only went back to Hughenden two nights ago. I won’t see him for another ten days. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but we have had our years of too many months apart and these days I cope with it less and less well. Sad now

Thanks for all the input on the Best Place for a Blog to Live. I’ve decided. Next year I’m moving to WordPress. I read heaps of their forums and tried to get as much user-info as I could. The general consensus from users seemed to be that they liked the user-format and were impressed with the high level of technical support. One person mentioned that in two years of blogging on WordPress , he’d only been aware of it going down on one occasion.

So this is where the story gets funny. I went to the sign up page. “Get a blog in seconds!” it said. Very easy, straight forward process. Did it. First email came within seconds. Very good. Second email (with password) took a couple of hours (grumble).
But then… no dashboard access. Naddah. Can not do Thing One. Send email to Technical Support. VERY fast reply - “We have a bug. Fixing it as we speak.” (or something along those lines!) Email included link to forum discussing bug. Wow, this is great communication! Something IS wrong, but there’s no Dumb Plumber looking at me with a “WTF do you want ME to do about it?” expression, instead there’s a COMMUNICATION BOARD. Yes.
Several hours later, still nothing. Check board. “Problem fixed. If you still have a problem, let us know.” Let them know, including “moving over from Blogger. Now I’ve jinxed you guys, too.”
Email back says :
“Hi,
That should be fixed now.
Jinx us? Not a chance
Sorry it took so long.”

I am in love. It even had a human being’s name at the bottom.

So, during the holidays, I’ll be packing up my stuff and moving to http://twolimeleaves.wordpress.com
There’s nothing there yet, but I’ll let you know when the housewarming party is!
And now I must away! Time for more of this… (this is my son, driving the Landcruiser at 110 km and saying “Holy Crap! I’m driving the Big Boy Car!” As opposed to my little sedan.)
…so that we can do this again (Doesn’t everyone’s Dad dress up as Santa on Christmas Day?)
See you in New Zealand!

I ask your advice, dear bloggers. I am thinking about switching from blogger to another Blog Thing. I am considering WordPress or Typepad.
What I don’t like about blogger:
1. Annoying things like hassles uploading photos, drafts being stored (and then published) in date order.
2. Template limitations caused by my feeble html skills.
3. Constantly having problems not being able to leave comments on other peoples blogs because… it just… I don’t know… it just doesn’t work sometimes!!!
4. I have a snit because I still haven’t been invited to be a beta blogger. What’s wrong with me??? Why don’t I get invited to parties????
5. Blogger just feels clumsy sometimes.

So. Am I just complaining about nothing? Am I just wanting change for changes sake? Or should I See the Light and go elsewhere?

Wherever I go, I want to be able to take my whole blog and comments with me.

What do you think? Should I do it? Where should I go?
What hassles will I create if I do move?

I’m trying SO hard not to WANT right now. But my Want List is getting longer, in spite of my best efforts.

I want laser surgery so I can throw my much-loathed glasses away. I try to remedy this by being GRATEFUL that
* I can afford glasses.
*With my glasses I can see to do everything I need to do.
*Men couldn’t care less about girls wearing glasses.

I want a new computer. Mine is OLD and SLOW and INADEQUATE. I try to be GRATEFUL that at least it
*works (most of the time).
*does 95% of what I ask it to do.
*is owned.

I want to buy another house. In a suburb that I just KNOW is about to explode and is full of cute run-down cottages just SCREAMING to be renovated. I WILL try to be GRATEFUL that
* I have a beautiful home already.
*Some people don’t even have shelter.

I really really really want to start a business that has been in my head for years. All I need is a location and capital

Today I have had a gutfull of trying to be grateful. Today I just WANT STUFF.

Today I am thankful for…

1.The Opthamologist who happily and cheerfully abandoned her Saturday afternoon off to meet me at her surgery and remove the foreign object* that was embedded in the white of my eyeball and that had made my Thursday and Friday and Saturday morning miserable.

2.The skillful touch that made it possible for her to do so without me even realising it had happened. (”Can I blink while you do this?” “You can blink all you like - it’s done!”)

3.The loving husband and children who wasted several of their precious hours in The City (normally spent shopping) accompanying me to the Optometrist and then the Opthamologist, without complaining (even though I then had an eyepatch on and they called me Winkie and Cyclops for the rest of the afternoon and made pirate “Aaaarghs” at me).

4.The Optometrist who Fit Me In, then phoned The Best Opthamologist in Town At Home on a Saturday because “I don’t want you to go to the Emergency Department and risk getting some butcher who leaves you with impaired vision.”

5.Today my eye feels as if it never happened and I still have the same old Less Than Perfect Myopic Vision I’ve always had.

6.The ability to pay the bills.

* wasn’t officially identified before it fell off the paper onto which the Dr had placed it. From her description, I believe it was the centre of a sequin - you know the tiny circle of plasti