tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33227441832142244612024-03-08T22:33:54.272+11:00happiness.stuff and nonsensehappiness.stuff and nonsensesascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-47916777845625151622014-05-31T13:56:00.000+10:002014-05-31T13:56:08.515+10:00in stitches: f-ing the ufosI came to the sad and somewhat shameful realisation this week that of all the yard projects I've begun in my life, I've completed one.<br />
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That's OK, I am clearly a process-over-product type person. I'm quite happy that knitting and crochet serves to warm my icy fingers and steady my chatty mind. But I need to move some of the half-finished products to justify my insatiable urge to buy random balls of yarn and old needles in the op shop. <br />
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I present, my unfinished object floor of shame:<br />
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Let's go clockwise, shall we? From the top left.<br />
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A capped-sleeve dress (Little Sister pattern) in lovely soft 4-ply grey wool. My first attempt at knitting in the round. On the round. Roundways. Whatever it's called. Started in an 18month size. Child is now three.<br />
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Some kind of simple baby jumper in op-shopped rainbow yarn. I have no clue what size or when I started that one. Or the pattern.<br />
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A scarf? Using two different textured yarns in olive green tones on big needles. I think this was for Grandma.<br />
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I have no idea what that is.<br />
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A really pretty crocheted cardigan in some op-shopped mohair. Started last winter, cleverly in a size three.<br />
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A crocheted scarf for my sister's birthday. Two years ago,<br />
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A crocheted rainbow scarf for my friend's birthday in March. Just the ends to sew in. It makes total sense to have started more projects since then.<br />
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A baby pram blanket in the most gorgeous buttery yellow cotton yarn. For my son. Who will by nine next week.<br />
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A baby onesie I began during the summer I was on holidays and pregnant with my middle guy. I think it was a six-month size. Not sure it'll stretch now that he is nearly five.<br />
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I have plans to re-size some, rip others off the needles, and finish some and actually give the gifts. And also start another couple of projects in the meantime, because I know I won't be able to help myself. sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-53748144202814408882014-05-28T11:49:00.000+10:002014-05-28T11:49:46.907+10:00purple hair, running in mud and other mid-life crisesI knew something had changed within me when I stepped to the side of the track, fearing I would vomit. I could feel my body responding to the synapses in my brain being redirected. From a long held belief of <em>I'm not one of those people who can climb to the top of ropes,</em> to a new pathway:<br />
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I climbed that rope.<br />
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We did our first <a href="http://www.rawchallenge.com.au/" target="_blank">Raw Challenge</a> in March this year. We started training in October of last year. And I don't mean training for obstacle racing, I mean training for the most basic of reasons: sleeping, surviving, staying married. Our <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Copa-Cross-Training/462310967155460" target="_blank">amazing trainer</a> has become very much a part of our lives in that time. We owe that guy our lives, or at least some extra years of them. He is a bit of an obstacle race fan, it seemed a perfectly sane thing to sign up to do with some of our training buddies. A couple of mates joined us for the fun.<br />
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That first challenge was really something. It exposed me, literally, raw. I cried on the way home at the exhilaration of it all. The awesome feeling of having a go and achieving stuff I never thought possible. The absolute humility and gratitude of having team-mates pull me over the top of obstacles when my mind had given in. The disappointment at having given up a couple of times. I discovered my deep fear of heights in this first challenge. Specifically, the edge of heights. You can imagine how well that goes when climbing over walls, and cargo nets. I freaked out near the top of a tyre wall, and climbed back down. I froze atop a cargo net spanning shipping containers. For about five minutes I just kind of lay there. I hesitated pulling myself up the rope climb pyramid, lost my nerve so very close to the top, and slid back down the rope, my beautiful team-mate holding my feet so I didn't get burned. Self-defeat is very exposing. Experiencing the pride of finishing in the same event is a little crazy!<br />
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Our little team gathered at our place, grilled copious meats and merriment ensued. We really, really had fun. And booked the next one. A longer, hillier, chillier Raw Challenge this time. We continued on with training and eating well. I set the goal of achieving pull-ups, with a tattoo reward. I bought new, smaller pants. We counted down to May 24th. I dyed my hair purple.<br />
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Finally our camping/sans kids/ running in mud weekend arrived. We travelled north <em>in a vaaaan</em> and found our gorgeous destination: Barrington Tops. The whole event- challenge and camping- was held at Riverwood Downs Resort. Such a beautiful spot for our first go at <em>vanmping</em>. And the weather was perfection.<br />
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On our way to register for the challenge, we bumped into our training mate who would be running with her teenage son. She waved a map in the air, warned us that the course was rumoured to be closer to ten kilometres that the eight we signed up for, and that the kick-off was a (and I quote) "a two-k fuck-off hill". My nerves jangled and I worried about the run. I don't love to run. It isn't my favourite. I love to lift heavy things over and over, but running just makes me feel a weird panic. I eyeballed that rope climb pyramid, sitting smugly there in its prime position of <em>last obstacle</em>. Called it a bastard and vowed to get over it. We cheered on the super-fit guys and girls taking off for the competitive wave. We saw the Aussie Mudder guys come in from their 11th lap in their 24-hour challenge. Yup. They kept going round and round the course for 24 hours.<br />
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Before long, it was our turn to queue up with fellow challengers. People dressed up as Where's Wally, gladiators, guys in full green bodysuits. We were all pretty stoked with our special new shoes.<br />
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Off we went, and it was true. The hill run was really something. I did it. I hopped over sticks and rocks, walked some of the bits when I felt too fatigued, ran down hills with soft knees <em>like a pony</em>, followed advice to <em>look up, look around and remember that you don't get to do stuff like this every day</em>. I loved it! Have I found a kind of running that I can be in a relationship with?<br />
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Onto the more obstacle-focused part of the race, we stomped through rocky creeks, jumped over big giant cotton reels, splashed through muddy water pits. The shoes I got for mother's day really made so much of the race easier. So much energy was saved by not having to be dragged out of mud for lack of shoe grip. My new babies dug into that slippery terrain and made me so happy to attack each obstacle.<br />
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Somehow, I got to the top of a rope climb. Having never attempted one, the knots in the rope were welcome. I got myself up to the second knot hold, with my hubby wrapping the rope around the bottom of my foot. I'm really unsure how, but my hands made it to the uppermost knot. I shimmied my feet up another knot, and reached my hand out to ring that bell. My fingertips <em>just </em>reached about a centimetre away from the thing. No ding! At this point I made the mistake of looking around and realising how bloody high I was. With my hubby and team-mates gently encouraging me to reach again, I politely requested that they assist me in getting off the rope (by which I mean, I screamed <em>Let me get down!</em>). Next time, bell. You wait. <br />
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Next up was a major sticking obstacle for me in the first challenge: the tyre wall. Up and over just isn't my thing. Especially on things that are really high. Again, my team-mates coached me over the top, in all my uncoordinated glory (<em>What do you mean hold that and turn my foot in there? That doesn't make sense!)</em> and I felt such a wave of pride and gratitude as my feet touched the ground on the other side.<br />
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Waiting for my turn on the high cargo net, a guy behind me made a joke about a nine-foot fall not being that damaging. So I walked around the thing. Next time, cargo net. Look out.<br />
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The wobbly balance beam was a bit of a moment of glory for me to be honest. It felt great stepping off the end and cheering with my mates.<br />
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Approaching the cargo net spanned over shipping containers, I was stoked to see that the wall to get onto the thing had been adapted to suit a range of ability levels. You could still rock out the flat, high wall, or you could have a crack at the same wall with a bar about two-thirds of the way up, or you could go the ladder climb up the wall. No prizes for guessing which one I took. I was so proud to make it across that cargo net span with only a brief pause to change my feet direction. So proud. <br />
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As exhaustion started to set in, and the finish line came into view, I realised all obstacle left involved up and over heights. Some rock-climbing pyramids that looked like such fun, the graded walls to jump over and the rope climb ramp. I was really struggling to keep myself together just looking at these things. I'm a bit disappointed in not having had a go. Next time, high things. Next time.<br />
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The thing that I have loved about these challenges is the empowerment. I really like competing with myself, each time doing a little better. I was grateful to feel the increased strength and fitness in my body the second time around. I like being challenged to do things that make me so frightened I can barely move. I love being part of a team that cares about each other and supports one another over the obstacles.<br />
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Cannot wait for the next one.<br />
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<em>*not a sponsored post at all- links are for your checking out purposes only!</em>sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-16747631453647228462014-02-12T06:37:00.002+11:002014-02-12T06:37:51.096+11:00shine on: my week with a black eyeI am one of those people who has never done anything exertive or interesting enough to warrant a cool injury. No broken bones, all teeth intact, not a single wake boarding concussion, in fact I don't think I ever even came off my bike as a kid.<br />
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At training last weekend, I attempted to catch one of those slam balls with my face. Heavy like a medicine ball, but with a rubber casing rather than canvas. As soon as my trainer said the words <em>netball hold</em> I should have known. Hand-eye co-ordination and I never developed a meaningful relationship. I held up my hands to catch the ball, felt the smart sting on my cheekbone, laughed at myself and continued on my merry way.<br />
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Arriving through the door after training, I saw that my eye was quite puffy and already starting to blacken underneath. I sent picture messages to my husband and my trainer, laughing at my own complete lack of co-ordination. Secretly chuffed with my cool workout injury.<br />
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Things got less cool throughout the week. I am too lazy for makeup most days. The first time someone jokingly asked me <em>Hubby been smacking you around?</em> I laughed and thought, what an odd thing to say, I don't think I've ever heard Hubby even raise his voice. By the third or fourth hilarious joke about domestic violence, a sick feeling settled in my gut, and it has stayed there, even as the bruise turned purple, and now yellowish. The solemn occasion of a funeral, along with my clumsy attempts to cover the bruise with concealer, didn't stop more of these comments. My darling, gentle Hubby was uncomfortable standing with me, hearing the jesting.<br />
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Relatives, friends, my kids' teachers and strangers have kindly asked what happened. People who know me well have asked, <em>what have you done to yourself?</em> Interestingly, people I work with avoided eye contact. I sat in the doctor's office, frustratingly chatting for ages about my kids, one of them was having high temps. Just a virus, but we were in there a lot longer than our regular three minutes. Glancing in the mirror in the parents' room afterwards, I remembered the black eye. Arriving home, I found my wedding rings I had removed to mix and roll meatballs. <br />
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It has been an interesting week, and a powerful lesson in human reactions to others' pain. Kindness and compassion are always welcome. Jokes about domestic violence are not.<br />
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<em>If you are living in a violent or abusive situation, please talk to a trusted friend and get in touch with one of our <a href="http://www.dvrcv.org.au/support-services/national-services" target="_blank">excellent support services</a>. </em>sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-35133398780081446292014-01-25T08:54:00.000+11:002014-01-25T08:54:02.930+11:00on sliding doors and borrowed timeThe past few months have been filled with messages for me. Wide-eyed stories of shockingly fast illnesses, parents of young children snatched away, heads shaking in dismal helplessness. <br />
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We are tenants, here, in this life. We don't own the time.<br />
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The only permission I needed to live my life with joy was the knowledge that the time I have is a tiny speck of sand. <br />
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So I am. <br />
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I am going to work hard to <em>feel</em> <br />
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abundance<br />
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vitality<br />
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sanctuary.<br />
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I am joining the <a href="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/thedesiremap/#&slider1=3" target="_blank">Desire Map</a> journey with a <a href="http://www.slowheartsing.com/" target="_blank">dear friend</a>. Not a speck of time will be wasted! I intend to suck the marrow out of my life, tiny speck that it is.<br />
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How do <em>you</em> want to feel?sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-79300181705360669162014-01-15T14:07:00.000+11:002014-01-15T14:07:31.919+11:00we went to tasmania and all i brought you was this blog post<em><a href="http://www.puretraveller.com.au/" target="_blank">Pure Traveller</a> organised our trip to Tasmania for the whole extended family. This post is sponsored by Grandma, who paid for the trip! The links are just for information, no one has given me any money or products for doing so.</em><br />
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We travelled around in convoy, with grandparents, a great-grandmother, cousins, aunty and uncle, staying in a few spots and exploring as much as we possibly could. What an incredible place. I had naively assumed we would get through seeing most things of interest in the nine days we were there- ha! While small, Tassie is so intensely <em>rich. </em>So much to see and experience! And eat! And wine! We found there was plenty to entertain the kids.<br />
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We stayed at the amazing <a href="http://www.curringafarm.com.au/" target="_blank">Curringa Farm</a>, at Hamilton. We drove the hire cars there from the airport, stopping to grab our order of groceries along the way. <a href="http://www.curringafarm.com.au/" target="_blank">Curringa Farm</a> has three gorgeous cottages, we stayed in the cottage called "Out the Back". It was the oldest of the cottages, and, in my opinion, the cosiest. We enjoyed the view of the river, snuggled next to the fire when we saw the nearby mountain with snow on it, and devoured delicious cooked breakfast thanks to the lovely local bacon, eggs, milk and juice found in the fridge. This is a working farm, and the hosts offer farm day tours if you are passing through.<br />
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From Hamilton we took a day trip to <a href="http://www.parks.tas.gov.au/?base=3589" target="_blank">Mt Field National Park</a>. Although Tassie looks small, don't be deceived into thinking everything is five minutes away. The roads are country, with lots of things to stop and explore along the way. Allow extra time in your planning for stopping at farm gate stalls, and possible car sickness. <a href="http://www.parks.tas.gov.au/?base=3589" target="_blank">Mt Field National Park</a> is stunning. While Grandma, Poppi and Great-Nana sat in the warm information centre with a cuppa, the rest of us took a little drive up the hill. Where it started to kind of slushy-snow (please note, it is summer!). This pleased the eldest boy greatly, who had managed to tick off his Tassie wish list on our first day. <br />
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We headed north for a few days, staying at <a href="http://platypuspark.com.au/site/" target="_blank">Platypus Park Country Retreat</a> at Bridport, a gorgeous coastal town. I did put my feet in Bass Strait, refreshing! We did some wandering around the farm, checking out the curious cows and saying hello to shy sheep. We had a nice dinner at the <a href="http://www.bridporthotel.com.au/bridport/" target="_blank">Bridport Hotel</a>, which did a good kids corner and an awesome steak.<br />
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Near Bridport I discovered three words that may have changed my life: Cold. Climate. Wines. So delicious. Thoroughly enjoyed tasting along the <a href="http://www.tamarvalleywineroute.com.au/discover_our_vineyards/" target="_blank">Tamar Valley Wine Route</a>, particularly savouring the delicious bubbly Kreglinger goodness at <a href="http://kreglingerwineestates.com/" target="_blank">Ninth Island/ Pipers Brook Wines</a>. <br />
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A visit to <a href="http://www.hillwoodberryfarm.com.au/" target="_blank">Hillwood Berry Farm</a> was a winner with the kids, the raspberries and strawberries were pick-you-own and delicious.<br />
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We headed down to Hobart for the last leg of our tour, enjoying a myriad interesting touristy things very close-by. One of my favourite places to visit was the <a href="http://www.richmondgaol.com.au/" target="_blank">Richmond Historic Gaol</a>. It is perfectly preserved, so it is wonderfully tactile for children. The displays and information signs are really interesting snippets into what life was like for prisoners of the colony.<br />
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<a href="http://www.zoodoo.com.au/" target="_blank">Zoodoo</a> was another fab stop for the kids. All the favourites are there, and our middlekid ticked off his list, seeing the Tasmanian Devils. Being a smaller zoo, a morning visit will allow plenty of time to wander through the vineyards in the Coal Valley. Check out <a href="http://www.pooleywines.com.au/" target="_blank">Pooley Wines </a>(on the most beautiful setting you could imagine), <a href="http://www.puddleduckvineyard.com.au/" target="_blank">Puddleduck Vineyard</a> (a family-run, family-oriented small boutique vineyard with the loveliest hosts to pour a drop) and of course <a href="http://www.wickedcheese.com.au/index.php" target="_blank">Wicked Cheese</a>. <br />
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Tasmania really was a wonderful family destination. I'll be back soon with a quick guide to travelling Tassie with a young family. What are your Tasmania must-do's?sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-39094385248476468152013-11-23T12:54:00.001+11:002013-11-24T16:22:38.285+11:00in stitches: kensington pants by terra's treasures tested<em>I received a copy of the Kensington pants PDF pattern for free to test.</em><br />
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I love a quick, easy sew. My laziness is only matched by my love of quirky, individual design features. Terra's Treasures has just released the <a href="http://www.etsy.com/au/listing/170230669/sale-kensington-trousers-and-shorts?ref=shop_home_active" target="_blank">Kensington Pants PDF pattern</a>, and I got to take the pattern for a spin, making the shorts version for my small girl. With a sweet yoke waistband, contrast piping and gathered patch pockets, these duds are truly my cup of tea.<br />
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Printing, piecing and cutting the pattern were a breeze. The colour-coded sizes were very easy to follow, and the pieces matched up with beautiful precision. I loved the layout of the instructions too, easy to read and follow, with lots of pictures. I used up some peachy-pink chambray from my stash (op shopped) with some vintage sheet floral for contrast. I sewed up the shorts in a size 2, shortening the length a tad and adding a contrast cuff to the bottom. I also made a sweet little top to match, using the free <a href="http://sewpony.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/the-perennial-dress-free-pattern-and.html" target="_blank">Perennial Dress pattern</a> from Sewpony (this one is super cute too!).<br />
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sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-66647651000017464082013-11-19T19:27:00.000+11:002013-11-19T19:27:04.814+11:00simply living: a less toxic life<em>I received a copy of Less Toxic Living to read prior to its publication.</em><br />
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Our fourth seachange anniversary is coming up early next year. I can't believe we have been here for almost four years, and yet I can. Our little man was a baby in a sling when we arrived at these sandy shores. We have changed such a lot in that time, not just our growing family and moving homes.<br />
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Living close to the sea has had a profound effect on how we see the world, and how we live in it. You can't see the rainwater wash directly into the ocean every day, and not be offended by the visible rubbish, and question the toxic things that can't be seen in the water.<br />
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And so, in those four years, we have gradually made mindful changes. Really just small things, one at a time. In a completely imperfect, trial-and-error kind of way. There has been some really simple changes, and some new things to learn, in an effort to live more simply. Remembering bags for the grocery shop. Packing school lunches in reusable containers, minus the pre-packaged snacks. Making my own laundry detergent. Growing some food. Keeping chooks. Composting. <br />
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None of these are new things, revolutionary things. But that's my point today. We <em>can</em> minimise toxicity in our lives in very simple, everyday ways. I recently read Less Toxic Living by Kirsten McCulloch (with a whole bunch of fantastic co-writers). You may know Kirsten from her ace blog Sustainable Suburbia. It was such a pleasure to read, full of great mini-guides for living a less toxic life. Information about toxic chemicals in common plastics, cosmetics, cleaning products, candles and toys. And information about what you can use instead. My favourite part? No panic-mongering. Just useful, sensible ways to reduce toxins. You can tap into a section that grabs your attention or interest, work on that in your life, and see what impact it has. Easy! I became quite interested in the idea of using plants inside to filter toxins in the air, so guess what my next little project is?<br />
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I would absolutely recommend Less Toxic Living as a springboard into living a greener life. If you are already a bit conscious of reducing toxins, this would be a great resource for family or friends new to these ideas. <br />
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You can download Less Toxic Living for free as an <a href="http://lesstoxicliving.net/download-the-book/">eBook.</a> If you download before December 3rd, you can get some special bonus treats: some handy printable guides for your fridge and wallet, a free chapter and recipe from Alexx Stuart's Real Treats and a discount voucher from Queen B candles. Lovely! Just pop in the code HAPPINESS to get your free goodies. If you would like to purchase a paperback copy of the book, you can do so <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Less-Toxic-Living-Chemicals-Introduction/dp/0992369908/" target="_blank">here</a>. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have!sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-25978824619448421012013-11-11T13:31:00.000+11:002013-11-11T13:31:53.805+11:00I've found myself saying, just lately<em>Wow! How did that pumpkin get <strong>there</strong>?</em><br />
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<em>Yes, darling, grown-ups have stomachs, too.</em><br />
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<em>Guys! You have <strong>got</strong> to remember to put away your textas!</em><br />
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<em>Does anyone know where I put the keys?</em><br />
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<em>Does anyone know where I put my glasses?</em><br />
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<em>Does anyone know where I put- is anyone listening at all?</em><br />
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<em>Thanks little mate, I think this dress is the most beautifullest, too.</em><br />
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<em>I'm in here. In the bathroom sweetie. Just in here. Yep going to the toilet. Poo. Oh, hey, you got the door open, that's cool. No thanks, I don't want any sultanas.</em><br />
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<em>I'm not missing bread at all! (eye twitch) Or pasta! (twitch, twitch)</em><br />
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<em>Where are your pants?</em><br />
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<em>I'm not sure which minion is my favourite, kiddo. Maybe Kevin?</em><br />
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<em>Just lay down and close your eyes! It's time to <strong>rest and relax! Right now!</strong></em><br />
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<em>I think a diamond gem would have more power than an emerald in a battle.</em><br />
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<em>I want to marry you again.</em><br />
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<em>(breathe it all in, these fleeting moments disappear like the grains of sand forming the seashore)</em><br />
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sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-12165669198618044072013-09-19T06:28:00.002+10:002013-09-19T06:28:35.417+10:00for me?I have keenly attuned my brain to ignore any longing or desire to do stuff that is just about me for the past couple of years. With all the kid stuff happening around us, I have found it easier to be resigned to living a life around them, to avoid disappointment. I've learned a weird acceptance with a day that revolves around meals cut into small pieces and naptimes, and that's cool.<br />
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But just lately, there is a shift. I returned to work, just one day a week. I felt that clever, passionate part of my brain spark, like the engine of a car having sat idle over winter. It's creaky, and a little rusty, but it's still there!<br />
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With this change has come a side-change in me, and how I think about myself. I have suddenly realised <em>I can do some stuff for myself!</em> And I've been struck with an urge to make outrageous goals for myself.<br />
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For example: Swim the length of my beach point-to-point. Considering my absolute lack of fitness <em>and</em> skill, a one-kilometre swim is a perfectly achievable goal, right? Well, it will be, given time and some hard work. I have begun swimming lessons- they do those for adults too! Although I felt a bit silly to begin, I am really grateful to take the opportunity to get a good technique to build upon. I even hopped in the pool to do some training laps when my big boy had his lesson at the weekend. It's a little thing I guess, but I'm celebrating this change- moving my body into its next season, where it won't be used to feed or grow babies again, but is now free to do other interesting stuff.<br />
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So I'm off to my grown-up swimming lesson this morning. I <em>am</em> going to swim that beach. I know this because I am working towards it. And also because there are the best hot chips in the kiosk down the other end.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-8832957335356923592013-08-27T02:49:00.000+10:002013-08-27T02:49:01.214+10:00in stitches: w pants by blank slate patterns testedIt's a bit rewarding to make things by hand. Sewing clothes for kids is absolutely not cheaper than buying items you can pick up in big stores, but has a largely increased smug-mum factor. Sewing is also more time- and space-hungry, so with my sewing space in disarray and returning to part-time work, it's a good thing there are fabulous PDF patterns getting around.<br />
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I was given a copy of <a href="http://www.blankslatepatterns.com/" target="_blank">Blank Slate</a> Patterns' <a href="http://www.blankslatepatterns.com/products/w-pants" target="_blank">W Pants</a> to test. As with all <a href="http://www.blankslatepatterns.com/" target="_blank">Blank Slate</a> patterns, this one is packed with options: three lengths, sizes 12-18months to 8 years, lots of nifty details such as welt pockets, full fly and belt loops.<br />
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I have fallen for these patterns. The instructions are so clear, and I love that this patterns suits a range of skill levels. A beginner could pick this pattern up and make the most basic option, then work through the more complex details as their skill set develops. You might know the gorgeous designer of Blank Slate patterns from her blog, <a href="http://mellysews.com/" target="_blank">Melly Sews</a>. <br />
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I think my welt pocket version with contrast waist look awesome. I used a cotton drill for the main fabric, and a chevron print corduroy for the contrast.<br />
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I will be cracking out this pattern again, there are summer shorts required! Oh, bring on that lovely warm weather, Spring.<br />
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sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-72335724528959414992013-08-19T07:42:00.001+10:002013-08-19T07:42:33.675+10:00top tips for enjoying a girls' weekend in wine countryI was so excited to be going away with my girls, that I told someone <em>It's so long since I've been away with friends!</em> Yes. Well. I had never actually been away on a girls' weekend. I was not into doing my hair as a kid, I can barely coordinate an outfit that is clean, let alone stylish. I hated dancing, preferred Lego, or those little cowboy and Indian figures, or reading. I'm not a tomboy, it's just that frivolous, competitive female relationships kind of freak me out. I have three <em>true</em> friends. One I have known since birth, because she is also my baby sister. One I met on the first day of Uni. And the last I met on her first teaching day. I don't clean my house for these few people, nor do I expect them to let me know that they are 'popping in'.<br />
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But, since the great sea change of 2010, the opportunity for pop-ins has been greatly reduced. So my very clever husband, along with their very clever husbands, organised vouchers for us all for mothers' day to go away together for a weekend. <em>To the Hunter Valley. </em>Mmmm...wine. And cheese. And wine. And while we were there, we somehow hit upon a magical combination making for a really great weekend. <br />
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1. Go with people you trust. Because at 1am, there are really only certain people who should see you singing Bon Jovi ballads into a wine bottle, writing indiscernible to-do lists, or hysterically laughing at screaming goats.<br />
2. Take a pregnant friend (congrats, sis!). Driving? Check! <br />
3. Stay somewhere awesome. I can absolutely recommend the villas at the <a href="http://www.crowneplazahuntervalley.com.au/" target="_blank">Crowne Plaza Hunter Valley</a>, and <a href="http://www.puretraveller.com.au/" target="_blank">Pure Traveller</a> for organising a great deal.<br />
4. Leave the mum guilt on the freeway. Pick a point in the journey (Brooklyn bridge for us) to leave concerns about the kids behind. Maintain this inner bliss even when greeted with text news about pregnant cats and vomiting children.<br />
5. Eat, and then keep eating. Don't you dare even think about dieting. There is cheese, and pate to be consumed, folks! And breakfast!<br />
6. Do a 'proper' tasting session. We happened to visit <a href="http://www.lindemans.com/en/au/Cellar%20Door.aspx" target="_blank">Lindemans</a> for a booked-in, paid-for tasting (thanks to one of the clever husbands), and it was fabulous. None of us being particularly knowledgeable about wines, it was a great start. Matt, our tasting guy (there must be a more appropriate term here) was really relaxed, and quite OK with the fact that our little group was more Kath and Kim than Pru and Trude. Just so you know, $260 a bottle chardonnay tastes marvellously expensive. And it turns out, I'm a spendy drunk!<br />
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I had such a glorious weekend, and approached the following fortnight of rolling illnesses and mundane cleaning tasks with vigour. It has left me with a renewed appreciation of my dear friends and our clever husbands. Oh, and port and blue cheese. Who knew?sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-62370060053202792912013-07-31T13:23:00.002+10:002013-07-31T13:23:58.014+10:00hi-ho, hi-hoIt's back to work I go! Actually it's been two weeks since I returned to my job. That one that I left four years ago to make a sea change. That one that I wasn't going back to because I would be embraced by my new town and would have local job offers to trip over.<br />
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The good thing is, I loved that job when I left, and I still do. I'm good at it, I like the bit where I get dressed, wear shoes the whole day and talk to grown ups. I teach small children, so there are all the obvious rewards that go along with that (there is nothing like teaching a kid right at that moment where reading kicks in, it's my absolute favourite). <br />
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After four years, though, I'm a little different. In lots of good ways, but in some ways that have me questioning things that I would have done or accepted four years ago. My first day back felt like a kick in the face. Such was the realisation that all of the relationships I had spent lots of hours, days, weeks and years building up with kids and their families had evaporated over time, and I was starting afresh. I have a lot of work to do, to build those relationships up from the ground. It will not be easy, but I know that learning won't really start to happen until I can get an 'in'. So I am drawing on the patience I have learned through yoga. I am planting that Mona Lisa smile on my face, and approaching each difficult moment with an acceptance that it will all take time. And all I really have is turning up each week. <br />
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It's fortunate timing that my school is heavily invested in building relationships with students at the moment. We were shown this video as a reminder of the importance of the relationships in a child's life. *(Trigger warning for violence, persevere if you can, there is relief at the end)<br />
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I am enjoying the bonuses of returning to work, that aren't directly work related. Yes, the commute is an hour and a half each way, but I get to spend that time with my hubby. Yes, I'm away from the kids and home for a day, but it means that the kids and grandparents get to spend time together (which is making everyone very happy). So although being so incredibly anxious about how on earth I would be able to balance and juggle, it turns out that things tend to balance themselves, if I just let them.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-25655137834226102722013-07-11T06:04:00.002+10:002013-07-11T06:04:59.244+10:00crafternoon delight: microwave puffy paintI am not the biggest fan of crafting with small children. It seems a little too much like work to me. But now that we live somewhere that actually rains from time to time, and have children who are into being creative, I have to concede it's time to put aside my own fear of playdough in the carpet and get to it. This week, we painted, in a scientific way. <br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Microwave Puffy Paint Recipe</span></h3>
1. Mix equal parts self-raising flour and table salt.<br />
2. Add water, stirring, to a thick custard consistency.<br />
3. Add colour.<br />
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We blobbed paint onto little mini-canvases (a cereal box cut into squares) using cotton buds. You need nice thick painting. Squeezy bottles would work a treat for this. <br />
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Then zap the masterpieces into the microwave (we did 30seconds on medium. You will know if you have the wrong setting if you set the painting on fire), and marvel in the crafty puffiness.</div>
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<em>Uses recycled materials?</em> Yes<br />
<em>Need to buy expensive things from an art store?</em> No<br />
<em>Keeps children occupied?</em> Yes, until we ran out of card. I think they would have kept going, too.<br />
<em>Creates something to keep?</em> Not sure, I think the mini cakes hanging on the wall may attract vermin at some point. More of a 'process, not product' activity.<br />
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Have a lovely crafternoon!sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-2284558869416496532013-07-09T12:46:00.000+10:002013-07-09T12:46:42.517+10:00in stitches: heidi and finn chevron dress pattern reviewI have been carefully looking at our consumption of clothing lately as a family. Not really doing anything about it, but feeling rather guilty about grabbing cheap, mass-manufactured garments as our kids grow (and grow and grow!). I walk a fine line, balancing precariously between what our budget allows, and the clear ethics in buying quality and taking more care of it. I have an automated response to kids clothing sale racks in large department stores: grab a couple for now, and a bunch for next year. Especially t-shirts, because knits are so difficult to sew, right?<br />
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Well sewing up this dress has proven to me the value and ease of sewing easy-to-wear, comfy play clothes for kids, using knits.<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/156198424/new-chevron-dress-pattern-and-tutorial" target="_blank"> The Chevron Dress</a> pattern by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/#!/Heidiandfinn?hc_location=stream" target="_blank">Heidi and Finn</a> is a fantastic design to cut your knit-sewing teeth on, and the instructions hold your hand right the way through.<br />
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The bodice is a simple shape, lined to avoid tricky bindings, and fits comfortably without gaping. I loved the clever way this pattern put the top together.<br />
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The skirt features a pieced chevron shape, utilising different coloured or patterned fabrics. I used a soft grey and white stripe, teamed with a rusty red and bright white. There was some very smug self-satisfaction as I pressed the centre-front seam open to reveal a perfectly-matched chevron. <br />
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The elastic in the waistband is probably the trickiest part, but once you master using a zig-zag stitch to sew elastic directly into the seam allowance, you will be able to use it in many applications. I like to use a three-step zig-zag stitch and clear elastic for this.<br />
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I added a couple of belt loops to the waist as I sewed the top and bottom together. I plaited together three strips of the knit fabrics I used in the dress to make a chunky tie belt. I love the nautical look the colours and the ropey belt give. <br />
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So now I am on the hunt for knit fabrics, so I can make all manner of play clothes for the kids. And a couple more cute chevron dresses for the little miss.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-35472382948606470862013-06-05T20:47:00.001+10:002013-06-05T20:47:40.704+10:00sustainable sustainability: think, eat, saveHappy World Environment Day! Did you celebrate in a small or big way? I have just, finally, peeled off my soil-encrusted gardening clothes after an exhausting but richly rewarding day spent in our community garden with the kids. <br />
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Our <a href="http://happinessstuffandnonsense.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/new-chicks-on-block.html" target="_blank">lovely chooks</a> are nicely nestled within their home in the EcoGarden. Finding this second home has opened my eyes to the notion of thinking outside the square- or even your home- when looking to lead a more sustainable, gentle life. Community gardens provide the opportunity for people to grow where they otherwise may not. Today I noticed how much potential, beyond the weeding, planting, harvesting, a community garden can offer.<br />
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1. Instant playgroup. Within moments of arriving at the garden, my children were dirty, wild, runny-nosed creatures of the sunny wintry outdoors. They ran around the garden beds with other kids, some familiar and others strangers. They showed visitors the ins and outs of caring for our chooks. The mums had the opportunity for a chat and a breather. <br />
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2. Green spaces are healthy spaces. You can't help but roll up your sleeves and break out a little sweat when there is a glorious strawberry patch to be tended, ready to rest over winter, and hopefully reap rewards in the warmer months. I exercised before I even noticed.<br />
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3. Sharing across generations. Our garden has the fortunate situation, surrounded by retirement villages <em>and</em> early childhood services. What a vast wealth of knowledge to be shared. What a spectacular opportunity to build social networks for people far from family, a little lonely or just finding themselves with a bit of extra time.<br />
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If your spaces at home are providing you with excuses <em>not</em> to grow some food, why don't you find out where your nearest community garden is? I wonder if there is some space for you to plant some snow peas, have a chat with someone new, take a book and relax for a spell? It really is as good as it sounds.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-60517688955718645302013-06-04T07:42:00.000+10:002013-06-04T07:42:37.796+10:00still life: my kitchen, a.m.My kitchen has become a place of work and learning. I have discovered new-old ways of nourishing my family, frugally using what we have and safe ways to clean. I enjoy the space, it is the original kitchen and makes no accommodation for lots of bench top appliances. It works. It is a working kitchen, not a display kitchen. It's a place I feel happy.<br />
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Collected things I love to look at, serving purpose. Seeds collected and drying, citrus cleaner steeping.</div>
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My next task awaits.</div>
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Tools at the ready.</div>
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Growing food from kitchen scraps.</div>
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The first tomato growing experience provided much learning. And not many tomatoes.</div>
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Poppi's African violets. I have warmed to their delicate ways. </div>
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Linking up with The Beetleshack Stills. Wishing you a moment of still in your day today!</div>
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sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-20390280124315229012013-05-30T07:32:00.002+10:002013-05-30T07:32:51.821+10:00in stitches: heidi and finn downtown hat<em>PDF sewing pattern received for free for testing and reviewing purposes from Heidi and Finn.</em><br />
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It's starting to cool down here. The beachside breeze is getting colder and decidedly stronger. Hats that cover little ears are in order. <br />
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I was lucky enough to be chosen to test <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/heidiandfinn?ref=seller_info" target="_blank">Heidi and Finn's</a> new pattern: the <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/152522050/new-downtown-hat-pattern-and-tutorial-3m" target="_blank">Downtown hat</a>. I got stuck in, using a range of stretch fabrics I already had, and had made up four hats in 24 hours. A lightweight green one, two fleece and a check polar fleece. I found the polar fleece the best fabric for this pattern- it has a good amount of stretch, with enough thickness to make the hat look nice and sturdy. I love the way the ordinary fleece sewed up, but would suggest going up a size for this less-stretchy fabric. The interlock fabric was a little trickier to sew, but makes up a lovely light-weight hat perfect for season's change weather. The instructions in the pattern were so easy to follow and provided this stretch-fabric novice much-needed support. I loved the pattern so much I took the kids to the fabric shop and let them choose a print from the polar fleece range. Thirty centimetres of a 150cm wide fleece fabric is ample, and with a half price sale on, each hat cost under two bucks! <br />
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And, seriously, how cute do they look?<br />
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Have you been sewing lately? Are you using what you have? Have you ever made a hat?</div>
sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-52494697823649047782013-05-20T10:01:00.000+10:002013-05-20T10:01:14.148+10:00a bad case of the mumdrumsAs I slid my clean clothes into their drawers last night, I did some boring maths and realised something a little sad. Approximately 72% of my clothing worn the previous week was pyjamas. The next 14% was trackies (exercise gear not used for exercising), the rest was undies. I wore nothing that required ironing, and stuck to my gardening clogs for all-about-the-town shoes.<br />
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<em>The fact that all my clothing ends in 'ies' rings alarm bells.</em></div>
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Let's face it, my self-standards are slipping. Have slipped. Are now non-existent. I have succeeded in becoming invisible under that pile of dishes, on the school run, putting away the laundry. Nobody notices me, so it doesn't matter what I look like, does it? The more ordinary I look, the more invisible I want to be. The more invisible I am, the less I need to care.</div>
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I wish I could say, I really don't care. I don't care if you judge me based on how I look. That what I wear bears no importance on my abilities as a human, that my value is so much more than my stretchy pants. Because essentially, morally, this is what I believe. But I know that this is also not the issue.</div>
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My invisibility-ugly cycle is my own doing. I make excuses to avoid booking a hair appointment- <em>there isn't any time! </em>I allow soft squishy rolls to gather around my belly- <em>exercise is impossible with little kids!</em> I don't meet up for coffee or lunch- <em>toddler needs to nap! </em>I don't believe that anyone would find me interesting or worthy, so I avoid social interaction with humans over the age of eight. Which just isn't right, really, is it? Who am I to presume to know what other people see? <em>I am deliberately making myself invisible, to purposely avoid social situations.</em></div>
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It's time to pick myself up by the furry lining of my gardening clogs, put on some big girl pants and get on with stuff. I am making sure I miss out on a whole bunch of life by being invisible. <em>But it's so comfortable, being invisible!</em> Comfortable, but not fun. Hiding is not living. I'm not really sure where to start, though. Any ideas?</div>
sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-66161522098778925072013-05-07T16:14:00.000+10:002013-05-07T16:14:13.119+10:00when you run out of babiesToday we celebrate our little one heading out of babyland and firmly planting her competent feet in the toddler arena. <br />
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I have been a little grumpy. She has been a tad unwell. I made a chocolate cake, iced it like my mum used to, and just went with it.<br />
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We had a little party over the weekend, entirely un-pin-worthy. It was family and friendfamily, kids we have all known since pre-birth. Party games consisted of small children (and perhaps some adults) hurling themselves down a sheet of plywood on a hill on various wheeled devices. Food was home-made hamburgers and milkshakes (not a stripy straw or small glass milk bottle in sight). We thought it was time to call it a night not long after the disco ball and glow sticks came out. All perfectly lovely and totally lacking in cool. <br />
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My <a href="http://happinessstuffandnonsense.blogspot.com.au/2011/06/fresh-and-new.html" target="_blank">pregnancy and birth</a> of this little one was a changing time for me. I am amazed to <a href="http://happinessstuffandnonsense.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/happy-birthday-little-one.html" target="_blank">reflect back</a> and see that we do things quite differently, as a family. We are different parents to our three, than we were to one and then two. We have changed and grown with each new child born, and now we face a new era.<br />
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A end to baby times. No more candy-striped bunny rugs in plastic bassinettes. No more fuzzy soft heads or transparent toenails. No more exhausting nights and exhausted days. I know we are firmly in Toddlerville now. She has refused to take off her new pyjamas for the last two days. She has long blondish hair that falls in her face and which she swoops out of her eyes with great flair. She can tell me <em>My tummy hurt</em> and <em>Stop it, Mummy. Shhh w</em>hen I sing silly songs. It's a good place to be. I am seeing brief opportunities for self-development; I had forgotten that existed!<br />
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I am looking forward to more fun and surprises with this girl. I am excited to see her wicked humour develop further. I know she will take enormous physical risks over the next year, and I know that I will probably helicopter less than in previous toddler times. I know that she will be watching me closely and listening to me carefully, so I will endeavour to show her love, patience and kindness.<br />
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Happy second birthday, Baby Mine.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-71852392405433908122013-05-02T07:21:00.001+10:002014-04-15T23:52:09.512+10:00defining mothering: we're doing it wrongOne of the most fascinating things I've discovered since our sea change three years ago has been the ever-changing outlook of the beach. That girl looks different every single day. Some days are like a lake, other days are tumultuous and wild. Some days there is a vast expanse of sand to walk on, other days we scramble over a narrow stretch covered in weedy debris. I initially felt unsettled by this daily change. Nervous, because every day didn't necessarily fit my preconceived definition of 'beach'.<br />
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Whenever I try to navigate the parenting landscape, I'm struck by the need to define the indefinable. Attachment parenting, helicopter parenting, laissez-faire, retro, instinctive parenting, passive parenting, authoritative parenting: at some point, so far, I've defined my self as each of them. But there is not a single one I could pick to define our parenting choices throughout. Because, like most parents, we are of the "make the best decision we can, with the knowledge and resources we have at the time" school. Our family unit model has changed, growing over six years to include one, two, then three children. We have had combinations of full-time working mum, stay-at-home-dad, part-time working mum, full-time working dad, stay-at-home-mum, with spatterings of formalised long day care, before and after school care and grandparent and uncle care. <br />
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Today, I am letting go of the desire to define myself as a 'type' of parent. Because that inherently leans towards placing value on one type over another. It has taken me some time to accept the ebbs and flows of the beach conditions, and know that every circumstance is in some way ideal; not just the sweet, sunny days. Rugging up in warm clothes and meandering around the rocks on a windy day gives us an opportunity to see things in a different way. I never expected our circumstances to involve an extended period of full-time leave from work, but I am very grateful for the time and the lessons I have received in that time. <br />
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This parenting work is truly a task of building the plane mid-flight. Children are growing, their needs are constantly changing. Adults are evolving constantly, too. Circumstances around finances and values (and how to align the two) are always shifting, and vary wildly between families. From now on, I will stop working so hard to label what I do (and what you do, too) as a parent, and work to enjoy the connection and the ride.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-46195920048701632892013-04-16T22:39:00.000+10:002013-04-16T23:57:52.487+10:00sewing with PDF patterns: Summer Maxi Dress by Heidi and Finn<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">I was lucky enough to be chosen to receive the Summer Maxi Dress pattern for free as a pattern tester. I haven't received any payment or product for writing this post.</span></em><br />
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I am a bit old school with my sewing. I learnt to use paper patterns, mostly New Look and Simplicity, Vogue if it was something fancy, at my mum's knee. Cutting out the pieces from the brown wafery paper on our brown carpet. Pinning the pieces to the folded over fabric (right sides together) with the small victory of squeezing the pieces on less fabric than the pattern recommended. Following the instructions, codes and symbols for 'cut on fold' and little triangle matching notches. Later, I studied Textiles and Design through high school, and learned more again from my Home-Ec teacher mother-in-law-to-be. Like cheaty nifty ways to put pants together.<br />
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Now back to sewing garments years later, and I wondered what all the excitement was about PDF patterns, which you purchase online and download for instant sewing gratification. I couldn't see the point in paying almost the same amount for a pattern which I then had to print myself. So I stuck to my old school ways.<br />
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Then I answered a pattern tester call, on a whim, from the amazing PDF pattern designer, <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/heidiandfinn" target="_blank">Heidi & Finn</a>. And I got picked! Which was very nice indeed. Here is how I found the process of using a Heidi & Finn PDF pattern, as an experienced sewer, but a PDF pattern novice...<br />
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Firstly, when using a PDF pattern, you need the ability to download, view and print it. You may get an instant download upon purchase (like if you buy from <a href="http://www.craftsy.com/user/1176846/pattern-store" target="_blank">Heidi and Finn's new Craftsy store</a>), or you may receive your download via email fairly quickly (remembering that designers may be sleeping when you purchase if you live in different hemispheres). Set up a folder on your hard drive where you keep you patterns, and 'save as' to download. You will need Adobe Reader to view your pattern. I was a little nervous printing, as there is a difference between standard US paper and Australian, but no worries, it printed perfectly. Before you print, check to make sure that your printer scaling setting is set to 'none'. Check the little one inch square on the first page to make sure the print size is correct.</div>
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Next you need to trim and align the pages, and join together. You can either cut out the size you need from here, but I like to keep the initial print as a master, then take a tracing of the size I need on tracing paper, or cheap greaseproof paper. I do this with my paper patterns, too. <br />
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Then it's simply a matter of following the instructions provided with the pattern to assemble your garment. And this is where I had my little epiphany about using PDF patterns as opposed to commercial paper patterns. As I was following the Heidi & Finn instructions, it felt to me that I was hanging out with a clever sewing friend, drinking tea and learning some cool new techniques. The steps are clearly written, with very little sewing jargon. There are fabulous photos, clearly linked to the steps, to show you what your progress should be looking like. If I was new to sewing, this Heidi & Finn pattern would be a fantastic start. There is even a tutorial for making your own bias binding! Superb! The <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/129535126/summer-maxi-dress-pattern-and-tutorial" target="_blank">Summer Maxi Dress</a> went together very easily. As with all Heidi & Finn patterns, you don't need fancy equipment, and you will have a gorgeous, individual piece. <br />
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I was inspired by summery images of my childhood: sunny boys, fringed beach umbrellas and stripy towels. I picked up this lovely beach-coloured stripe cotton and added some crisp white cotton bias binding and pom-pom fringe. If the question is in regards to pom-pom fringe, I think the answer is always 'yes', don't you? I think my little girl enjoyed wearing her new <em>pitty dess</em>.<br />
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stuff and nonsense hints for sewing with PDF patterns:<br />
1. Buy quality, especially if you are learning. The instructions will be clearer, the size gradings will be more accurate. You will be more likely to have success and come back for more!<br />
2. Take your time printing to get the settings right. Check and double check before you cut into your fabric.<br />
3. Save your patterns somewhere central by choosing 'save as' rather than sending them into a random downloads folder in the bowels of your hard drive.<br />
4. Read through all the instructions before launching a sewing assault. <br />
5. Trace each size onto tracing paper, keeping the printed pattern as a master. I find the lighter paper much easier to pin to my fabric, and I like knowing I don't have to print each new size.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-84121472188085405172013-04-15T14:56:00.000+10:002013-04-15T14:56:07.018+10:00hello bloglovin'You in?<br />
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See you there!sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-86764749335039543122013-04-12T04:49:00.000+10:002013-04-12T04:49:38.779+10:00navigating the blind cornersI wonder what's coming next? As the weather is changing around me, I feel as though I'm stepping around a corner, into a great unknown. <br />
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My dear friend and I joke all the time about parenting young children; the moment you get breastfeeding under control, they start to need food. They finally sleep through the night, then begin teething. Decisions are made, love is given, under tired eyes and on shifting sands.<br />
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I have finished having babies. There. My littlest, surpris-ey girl is almost two. Will soon be out of her cot, and after three babies and three different homes, I never got around to decorating the nursery. The shame! I learned early that my parenting energy and skill is limited: I can choose to spend it on making it appear that I'm across things, or I can invest it in just plugging away. Getting small people out of bed each day, making breakfast, wiping noses, cooking dinner. Teaching, loving, instilling. It's difficult to remember that this time is short. I seem to be continually being delivered the same lesson: shifting sands. <br />
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As I am tip-toeing over shifting sands yet again, I'm finding it all too easy to get caught up in doubts and worries about what my next contribution might be. I am no longer the proud mama holding a fresh baby. My kids are growing up, worthy of space to develop their own identities. I felt a gentle unravelling this morning, when my nearly-four-year-old came out of his room fully dressed. A few of the strong stitches binding me to those tasks of filling the needs of others, unpicked. <br />
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Gradually, suddenly, our babies will become independent beings. If we do our job well, we will make ourselves redundant. I know I am other than mama. I know my darling and I will hold hands when our babies are grown up. Just as fulfilling needs of little people takes energy and effort, so does developing myself and my other relationships. And the sands are shifting just a little, just enough to allow a redistribution of my energies. <br />
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As for those corners? Who knows what's around there. That's the fun of running on shifting sands, right?
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Neighbourhood centres are a bit fab. Ours is set in a little community hub complex, nearby a preschool, long day care centre, community health centre, youth centre and mental health outreach. What a great place! I went there last year to attend a <a href="http://happinessstuffandnonsense.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/learn-and-grow.html" target="_blank">weekend organic gardening course</a>, got chatting to another lady, we discovered the unused coop and the plans began. We are both in positions where keeping chickens at home isn't possible right now, so taking out a lease of the EcoGarden's chicken coop presented an ideal solution. <br />
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The rainy Friday arrived for me to collect our 12-week-old pullets from the breeder, who does a regular off-the-back-of-the-truck (literally) order and pickup through a produce store a little way from home. I stood in the fat plopping rain, waiting in line with my rapidly-soaking cardboard box. I laughed nervously as the farmer put my twelve ordered ladies in the box, couldn't help but think how undignified it was to hold them by the feet! The reality of caring for real, actual livestock struck me when I picked up my heavy, warm, life-filled box, only to smear chicken shit all over the front of my shirt.<br />
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Three weeks on, the girls are growing, enjoying a range of kitchen scraps and becoming used to small children in gumboots. They are getting named as time goes on, the white one with caramel is called Butterscotch, one of the black ones has been called Shadow Hen, I picked the greyish one as Ethel, one of the red ones is Rosie, and my little guy has named the fattest black hen Larry.<br />
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We visit daily to check their food, water and clean what needs cleaning. The kids are so very enamoured with the whole thing. We are all learning so much. I am already deeply affected by seeing the range of activities undertaken by the girls throughout the day. Connecting my new understanding and respect for chooks with choices I make when shopping for eggs (only for a little while longer!) and chicken meat is quite confronting. But so very worthwhile. <br />
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<em>Rosie wonders...'Who IS this awkward bird?'</em></div>
sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3322744183214224461.post-25830835297088445352013-03-12T22:13:00.001+11:002013-03-12T22:13:07.216+11:00when Joe was GiuseppeWhen I first left school, I studied a year of a Bachelor of Arts at Sydney University. It was the most interesting year of my life, learning Philosophy, Anthropology and Linguistics in dusty halls and roaming through sandstone archways entrenched in history and tradition. I was enamoured with the work of Margaret Mead, watching people of traditional, untouched cultures.<br />
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It wasn't until I stood pressing roasted tomatoes through a mouli over the weekend that the almost forgotten lessons of that year had a personal reality for me. I have no idea if my family of previous generations made passata this way. Probably not, as I took the recipe from the internet. I love hearing about the house that my mum grew up in, with Nonna and Uncle Hugo and the chickens and the veggie patch in the suburbs. But the stories could be from any family, really. A work of fiction.<br />
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My self is missing that piece. The piece that speaks loud, passionate, musical Italian. The piece that welcomes a family to the table for a long Sunday lunch with too much food and plenty of wine. My great-grandfather came to Australia from the tiny southern Italian island of Lipari, before the turn of the last century, as a fourteen-year old, with his family. Do I really have a right to lament the loss of a culture left behind more than a hundred years ago? Is it reasonable to believe that language and traditions could have continued over that time, throughout all the changes of our Australian social landscape? Do I have the right to feel ripped off that I have to refer to Jamie Oliver or Stephanie Alexander to learn to make fresh pasta and passata?<br />
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After all, for my ancestors, this was a choice. They left their home, packed up their family, and took a long trip over the seas to a new life. <br />
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With my grandfather-in-law's passing last year, knowledge circulated that he had been proud to discover his own lost Aboriginal heritage. Very little is known as his grandmother was of the Stolen Generation. Whisked away from her language and traditions and given new ones, by force. She passed on her beautiful skin that has paled over the generations, to the point of almost disappearing. I lament the loss of her stories, her language and her traditions in the same way that I lament my missing Italian piece. I am strongly drawn to researching my family histories. I want to travel to the places that my childrens' ancestors came from. <br />
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So what are a couple of people with cultural chunks missing to do, when confronted with the heavy task of instilling culture and heritage into three small, bright, incredible children? Well, we shall have to just make it up as we go along. We will, and do, choose the ideals and values we hold most true(because even when language and cultural tokens have long gone, these remain) and use them as a point of reference for all that we do. We will continue the beautiful traditions shown to us by our parents and grandparents, like cheese and bikkies with afternoon tea, or working with timber to make beautiful things, or going fishing, or playing canasta, without concern about their cultural authenticity. We shall build our own traditions, like lighting fires to toast marshmallows in the backyard on Saturday nights, or cooking a late barbeque breakfast after nippers, or making pizza on Friday nights. <br />
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And we will continue to search for the stories of our past. Because they matter. I will do my best to find out all I can to help my babies understand their role in one of the world's richest and most endangered cultures. I will continue to dream about climbing uneven stairs to a cottage at the top of a seaside village in Lipari, as I do exactly that, walking home from the school run many, many kilometres away. <br />
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Now, who would like to come to our home for Sunday lunch? There will be too much food and plenty of wine.sascedarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14851709906766532130noreply@blogger.com4