six and a half stitches

LIQUIDE

 

You can just about smell the fresh raspberries pureed down to a thick syrup, drizzled over fresh homemade vanilla ice cream....you can smell summer, the heat and warmth drenching the garden and the house. Liquide colour oozes out of here, twisted amongst fibers soft and tactile.

One of the best days I had while overseas was spent with Marine. We wandered through streets to a particular destination, with the single aim of purchasing wool. I have been to La Droguerie before, but came away empty handed as my lack of french and intimidation at the process required to purchase wool got the better of me. This time I came prepared. With patterns and wool amounts, with set pieces to buy for, set outcomes in mind. Marine gave graciously her time and french, happily interpreting between me and the salesman as we worked our way through pattern and wool selections, button selections, and ribbon and bias binding selections laughing and chatting the entire time - all 3 hours of it. They are nothing if not thorough in their desire to serve you in there.

There hanging against one wall was a beautiful little tunique. There was an adult one. [yes, the wool was purchased for that too]. And a small child's version in brightest deepest raspberry. Trimmed with Liberty bias tape, exclusive to La Droguerie. I had to make it. In the same colour. But with a different Liberty trim. Pia, well she had to have it. As soon as it was finished she put it on and it's been worn all day, even though it still needs a little finishing. It's soft - alpaca and mohair mixed together. And swings. And has a gorgeous deep neckline. With a beautiful ribbon tie.

Although Pia never lets the bow stay tied for long.

[more details and photos at Ravelry and on flickr]

TODAY

Today I am a proud mother.

Today I am proud of myself.

Today my little boy received an award at his end of year presentation day. It was an award for applying himself, being conscientious, and for putting effort into improving his literacy skills over the course of the whole year. I am proud of his effort. And proud of his achievements. I've watched his confidence grow, his attention focus, and watched how all the pieces have started falling into place for him. Slowly, but surely. I hope he will go through to next year with a greater sense of what he can do, particularly with a bit of application. He's a beautiful child, and it's so lovely to see him shine with a little nurturing from a really amazing and impressive teacher.

Today I sat as a guest of honour at the presentation day. I received recognition within the school community and by the school for the time and effort I've put in over the last 9 months [and beyond that even] working with them to achieve viable and strategic design outcomes in response to the government's BER stimulus funding package. Throughout this year I've been playing community liaison architect, helping the school negotiate a really successful architectural outcome for building work at the school. The first of those structures was opened today. While I did not design it, I did play a pivotal role in the design brief, and a crucial role in helping the piece through construction. It's an architectural piece, which tends to blow people away when they see it. To say it's been a long and highly sensitive path we chose to travel to get this result is an understatement, and hence the pride I feel for what we achieved against the odds here. We are a small school. But we thought big, and argued our case, and thought through every single step of the process. It gives me immense joy to see children and adults embracing the area, owning it, naming it, and incorporating it immediately into their daily lives.

The paper flower above was made by students and was just one token of thanks. A wonderful permanent reminder of community through design.

[In response to my last post - Jo if you're reading please email me privately so I have your correct address and I will forward the recipe on to you! Your email address keeps failing]

 

READY

Pia is totally engrossed in her current favourite game - where she lays out every single pillow and cushion in the house on the floor, then gets every single doll and teddy bear and puts them to bed, one on each pillow, covered in a blanket [or tea towel when the blankets run out]. Occasional she moves them all into the bedroom. And occassionally she takes them each in turn into the room to have their nappies changed. Right now, it's got her quiet and occupied. And that is a rarity.

Which means I can get a little work done.

A little hand made work.

Tonight I am meeting up with a group of other wonderful women and we'll sit and chat and make and eat and drink and laugh. It was fabulous the last time I went, and will indeed be fabulous again tonight. I have a lovely little knit project to take with me - using some of the La Droguerie wool from Paris, a little swing cardigan for Pia, trimmed with Liberty print bias tape. There is freshly made passionfruit and lemon marshmallow sitting in the fridge waiting to be consumed [it tastes delicious] having been dusted and cut this morning and divided into containers for both tonight and some friends. I had forgotton how much I enjoy making this - and have a sudden need to make more of it along with loads of lemon curd for eating with ice cream. And a little hand made goodness all wrapped up - a little something screenprinted - Pia helped oversee the screen printing this morning and once again, I had forgotton how much I enjoy the relatively simple process of screen printing.

Tied with a red velvet ribbon and a white ornament, I'm ready for a little socialising.

 

OUT

I jumped out of the fishbowl momentarily.

I swam across an ocean.

And I wandered across lands far away, through the streets of Paris and London.

I walked with my camera.

And looked at beautiful pieces of architecture.

I looked at cities I know so well, now a little more distant, and reminded myself of the things I love about them.

I sat and drank coffee when I wanted.

And ate what I wanted. When I wanted. I ate incredibly good food.

I talked with adults more than I have in the last few months combined.

I talked with Jane. And Marine. And Kirsty. And Mel.

We bought wool. And some more wool. And then some more.

And I bought ribbons. And some more ribbons. And then some more ribbons.

And some buttons.

And lots of fabric.

Some toys for the children. And some clothes for them too.

And I laughed.

And I talked.

And I listened.

 

FISHBOWL

Most days at the moment I feel like a fish. Swimming around the same fishbowl, all day, everyday. Same scenery. Same food. Same children staring at me. Same pebbles. Same rocks. Round and round. And round. I've talked to other mothers, and they all tell me the same thing: right now, I'm staring at the hardest part of childhood and it does get better. I should know this, because I have one child who has already been through 3. Except, I'm starting to realise Max was an exception to the rule of toddlerhood, because even though we had days which I thought would never end, we never had months, and months which I thought would never end, which is kind of how I feel with Pia. I love her. I adore her. But I also feel like she is slowly eating through my soul. And that's a fairly terrifying thought to have. That one small person can who is completely of your being, can have that much of an affect on you.

Some days, are just about the taking.

Some days, are about the giving back to the soul though as well.

Small, intrinsically basic actions, can have a huge affect on how I feel. My crafting and making time is getting less and less as I juggle children and school times, but when I get something done, the sense of achievement within my little fishbowl world is immense. Lists get made, and broken, and forgotton about, and re-made. I have been making a real effort recently to start looking at working on those lists, and each week I make a little progress. Two weeks ago, a small gathered top for Pia in Nani Iro. The week before that, a mock up of a top for myself, that needs to be resized, and for which I have slightly lost my confidence in until a time when I can really focus on it. Another small top for Pia in some Kristen Doran fabric which I never seem to be able to photograph on her. And a small knitted gift slowly coming along in a very lightweight lace wool. This week I hope to achieve - some small pants for a friends new born baby, a skirt for Pia, a start on resizing the top for myself. And a lot of piles. Boxes have been taken out, and rummaged through, and now I have a few piles waiting to play with. Tonight I have once again traced out some patterns, and will cut...

And more importantly, I pulled out a moleskin sketch book. Because I want to make some plans. Simple plans, with direction and focus. And I want to write them down. Draw them. Draw around them. Trace them in my head and with my pen in my fingers. I want to make them real.

And find a life outside my fishbowl.

3

Look Mummy, it's for you - because I love you, said Max

stop. laugh. love. cuddle. share.

[Happy Birthday Pia - you seem so much more grown up than 3]

POUR DRAIN TWIST EAT

Sometimes I get obsessed.

The beautiful rich smell and aroma of almonds, and almond biscotti, eaten quickly as the icing sugar dusts off onto your hands and the floor. Something little and sweet and easy to make while a child demands your attention and you stop and have a cup of tea.

I love ricotta. More than that, I love homemade ricotta. The kind which has come out of my kitchen, made by me, heated twisted drained and served....all by me. This has been on my To Do List for far too long. Years in fact. Ever since Charlotte wrote to me about making some, and made it sound like she just popped into the kitchen and voila! there it was before her and I was so sure she was making it all up how easy it is to make that I kept putting it off. So sure was I, that it would be so difficult to make. And then Gourmet Traveller - my bible of cooking inspiration - had a little inconspicuous recipe for vanilla ricotta and rhubard compote. I sat and read through the recipe. And re-read it. And went out and bought muslin. And milk. And an hour later I had fresh ricotta infused with vanilla beans sitting on my benchtop. Since then I have made it a few times, and it will surely become another staple in my cooking week. I've added it to spanakopita, eaten it with rhubarb compote as per the recipe in GT, and eaten it fresh out of the muslin while it's still warm. That there, that simple act, is joy in itself. It is ridiculously easy. And ridiculously satisfying.

Heat on high 2 litres of milk in a non-reactive pan [stainless steel, ceramic, glass] stirring constantly with a rubber spatula for the first 5 and a half minutes to make sure the milk doesn't burn to the bottom of the pan, let it continue heating without stirring for a further 4 and a half minutes, then take off heat and add 50ml of white vinegar. Let stand for an hour. Then drain through muslin. I've googled other recipes and they do it without adding the vinegar. Or they add lemon juice. Some use a combination of whole milk and buttermilk. I've done it with just whole milk, and also just with skim milk and both work equally well. The only downside is that for the amount of milk, I seem to get very little ricotta and so the cost effectiveness is not great. But honestly, that really doesn't matter. Because it tastes fantastic.

And my next obsession.....these beautiful pieces.

FROM LIGHT TO DARK

1 [] Soft, delicate clouds of cashmere, finished. So unbelievably light, and such a beautifully simple knit.

2 [] Scraps of chocolate linen, a new shift dress for summer for me from the Robe Rouge book. The linen needs to soften, and then it will be 'just right'. We sanded down the little Ikea table the children use to draw and eat on, and now it has a wonderful faded sandblasted feel to it, although the drawings and scribbles have now almost gone, just remnants and shadows of them remain.

3 [] Strong light casting shadows and dark recesses against brilliant shards of light travelling through the house now, and 2 cats following it around.

From light to dark.

RUSHING BY SLOWLY

chai, hot, subtle and milky [] small amounts of sporadic knitting, slowly moving towards completion [] patterns drafted out [] patterns cut out [] fabric ordered, received, played with, folded [] one computer now dead throwing my world into chaos a few days after Paul's death. yes everything was lost on it. yes I had backed up a week before, saving all my photos and architectural work [] hello new computer, and new programmes for photo editing which I am loving [] one printer...now....dead. and unreplaced for the moment till I get really tired of putting off all my printing and go out and buy one [] new music which I am loving [] the constant twittering of a nearly 3 year old being....nearly 3 [] the same nearly 3 year old riding her bike with training wheels and feeling very grown up about it, and pretending she's going to school just like her brother. the same child riding that bike like she's been riding it all her life. best thing is we get everywhere a LOT quicker, and with a LOT less hassle. she twitters away having amazing conversations about going to school on it the entire time [] weekends away at the south coast with the first warmth of spring-turning-to-summer, touching the ground on our block of land, wading through icy cold water and collecting pippies while the children kayak [] watching a bloom of small clear jelly fish pass through the waters around us and hoping they don't sting [] children playing with friends in back laneways riding bikes, scooters, skateboards [] new clothes - how long has that been.... [] watching plants flower and die, captured in photographs forever [] more washing each week than I care to acknowledge [] plans being made for an upcoming overseas trip - lists being made and emails I really need to start writing to people once a few technicalities have been worked out [] a pinboard/inspiration board covered and lying waiting to be attached to the wall [] helping out with art projects for the school's art exhibition [] watching Max's first public speaking in assembly and loving his childish husky voice []loving flickr's new galleries feature - long overdue [] simple days. sometimes productive. sometimes not. days rushing by. one at a time.

GATHERING TIME

An enormous thankyou. From the bottom of my heart.

For those who emailed. Who commented. Who phoned, who have walked beside us in our short journey and have shown support and friendship. Knowing I didn't have to do this alone, knowing people were thinking of us, and of Paul, throughout, has been wonderful. His funeral was emotional, beautiful, personal, and full of warmth and love from so many people for someone who touched so many people in return.

But then it's all over.

And we all have lives. Yet....

Yet ... there's this weird limbo I find myself in. Intense focus, intense waiting, has given way to extreme tiredness and lack of focus, and lack of enthusiasm and energy. Time has become warped and I'm struggling to find balance and grounding again. And I'm also trying to embrace that a little, and just let it be. If that's what my body and my mind need, other things can wait. I am enjoying time running and walking, soaking up the heady scents of spring jasmine that fill the streets and lane ways, enjoying the warmer weather sitting in the garden, and enjoying small chances to think through new projects and make plans for some exciting things in the next few months.

And in amongst all that, occasionally something gets done. A linen top, made from Linnet chambray linen with lots of gathers and puffed sleeves and yoke, held together with little Nani Iro timber buttons [I'm waiting for more to arrive to finish the line of buttons so the split seals all the way down]. The pattern is Village Frock by Sugar City and is brilliant. It went together easily and is neat and beautiful. I'd like to hope I will make more throughout the years. And yes, I agree - there should be an adults version shouldn't there!