28 March 2012

the confused blanket

 I bought some lovely fabric for a summer quilty blanket for picnicking and beaching and outdoor frolicking. Well six months later I can tell you that it's autumn and no such blanket was made.
Instead the pile of fabric was used to collect dust under my sewing table. Occasionally I stroked the fabric lovingly. Until I found my rotary cutter in a random drawer, and there you go - I assembled a quilt top in less than five minutes, hastily sewing fat quarters together in the most boring and speedy way possible, I didn't even bother to cut the selvedges off. That's how cheap I am. Hurrah!

Since it's now autumn and we do really not need any kind of summer entertainment blanket, I, prone to in-a-flash decisions, ran to Spotlight and purchased 2,5 metres of cheap and nasty polar fleece in a minty colour. For 4 dollars a metre. Bam.

I proceeded to wonkily sew the fleece to the quilt top, without at all aligning any edges, turned it out, and here it is, with me under it, the seasonally confused blanket. In all its glory. I am actually totally loving it - it's quite heavy and has a quilty feel, but is lovely and soft (and who needs a fire place if you can listen to the gentle crackle of acrylic as you snuggle up on the couch...).

06 March 2012

Dear Matilda

You have been eating solids for a few weeks now - you are nearly six months old and already you have found your likes and dislikes. Just like me you love sweet potatoes and just like me you are not so sure about mashed potatoes.

You start wiggling your feet and thrashing about in your chair when we open the freezer doors and see what's left of the homemade purees I make for you. I even puree minced beef for you. It smells. Bad.

Your first ever food was parsnip, followed by sweet potato, and then potatoes. You love apple, and you love apricot. You also love to chew on teething rusks, even though you have no teeth to speak of. Frankly, you love eating, like your parents. You are not even that messy. You just open your little mouth like a bird and we have to shovel it in, if we're not fast enough you start crying.

I weaned you and sometimes you still bat away at my top, looking up at me sadly. At least that's what I think. I don't really think you're upset about the lack of boob in your life. Considering the last time I breastfed you you impatiently chomped down like a calf and nearly dragged my boob off to never never land.

I worry about your length.

I will not allow you to be a supermodel when you're older, you might as well stop growing. You are beautiful, inquisitive, and you have a top notch sense of humour. You really love slapping your naked belly.

Love, mummy

05 March 2012


Was sick with Mastitis...continued to work on my crazy rug idea...did some gardening and found the spud tower is growing some spuds...harvested eggplants...observed the Redback web carefully and set some mouse traps...made a cushion...did a bit of redecorating...started on a quilt, being carefully watched by Matilda.

Hope your week is full of sunshine!