bees do it

I spoke with my father this morning. The good news is that the cancer has not spread from his prostate. Now he has to process all the information his doctor has given him and make a decision in regards to his treatment. He wasn’t very clear about all the information. I think he was still processing it all himself and needs some time to let it all sink in. He is a work-aholic who runs his own business and however he decides to proceed he is going to have to stop working for at least six weeks. Frankly I think he will struggle with this most of all. At this time though he is very positive. That’s his style. He is a glass half full kind-a person who speaks of “playing forward”. I assume playing forward is a cricket metaphor, I’m not really sure. It sounds positive though doesn’t it?

I don’t think I have had so many conversations about sex with my father in all my life as I have in this past month. Being that my father’s cancer is in his prostrate part of his consideration for treatment is the affect it will have on his sexual life. Residing in the bedroom next to my parent’s when I lived at home and was studying for my HSC I am well aware that my parents have “done it” more than twice (when they conceived my brother and I) and yet when my father first bought this topic up I was a little shocked. Maybe that is because I have three young children, the youngest of whom is only three months old, and my own sex life isn’t exactly raging at the moment. It does still exist but finding opportunities when we’re on our own and both awake can be a struggle! I’d forgotten that people out there probably manage to stay awake with their partners on a regular basis to engage in some intimate time. I am pleased to know that when I am as old as my folks I’ll still be into “it” – but I sort of knew that already from an awkward early morning moment with my paternal grandparents when I was a child.

All this talk about sexuality has got me thinking, whilst I know where it ends, where exactly does it begin? Is it holding hands or is actual physical contact not required at all? A moment of lingering eye contact? Is it an act at all or rather just the response it arouses within?

So that is where we find ourselves in my father’s cancer story. Feeling good that the cancer has not spread and reflecting on our sex lives.

going slow when it is just right

Today was neither too hot nor too windy. It was just right.

The sky was the most magnificent blue. The perfect day to walk to the shops. In the car I am guessing it would take less than three minutes to drive to our local centre and I’m supposing that we could do a round trip to pick up a DVD and some milk in about half an hour – I do have three children in toe remember – but today, walking, the round trip took almost three hours. It was glorious.

The “big” kids (who are still both under 5yrs) were each given a brown paper bag to collect things and we weren’t too far from home when it became apparent that we were collecting ingredients to make spells.  We collected gum nuts, leaves, bark, a feather (urk! – so dirty but hey I faked being so ‘how wonderful’), flowers, stones, sticks… lots of ingredients. We stopped at a playground on the way there and the way back: swinging, sliding, climbing. We all held hands when we crossed roads and walked through car parks. We discussed which trees would be the best for climbing. We had much amusement playing with the ultra modern and hard-core hand dryer in the public toilet at the shops – seriously full on I tell you – the skin on your hands wobbles and moves around like a persons face when they’re sky diving – those of us that are short enough to stand under it created some awesome wind-blown hairstyles too!

We chose DVDs ($2 Tuesdays is pretty much a fortnightly tradition in these parts!) and we got almost everything on our shopping list – including cat food and dental floss – but we did forget the garlic. No matter. We came home and ate fresh bread rolls for lunch and sorted our loot before chill-axing in front of some DVDs.

Later when the children’s Dada came home from work he cooked up their concoction on the stove so that they could play outside casting incantations for the end of the afternoon.

Without doubt a magical day.

rippling

The ripple blanket is growing. As I hook I ponder. Lots of things float in and out of my thoughts. I struggle to take my ideas as far as I’d like. The thoughts are racing at a pace that I just can’t keep up with.

A snapshot of my mind as I hook:

• the ripple pattern written using music notation – the meter signature would be 4/4 time for sure.
• shopping list – forgot to get cat food and dental floss today – must not forget next time near shops
• how do DVD rental stores make money these days?
• Dad
• theories relating to the subaltern and The Help, a white author giving a voice to negro characters – is it problematic?
• Asymmetrical reciprocity – need to improve my conceptual understanding
• why didn’t Harper Lee write more novels
• will it ever be possible for me to listen to a song produced by Phil Spector without being creep out.
• what is going to happen with the European economy, if they’re in so much debt who actually has the money?
• need to vacuum the floors tomorrow
• I was young and caught in the crowd; I didn't know then what I know now; I was dumb and I was proud and I'm sorry; If I could go back, do it again; I'd be someone you could call friend; Please, please believe that I'm sorry. Does James really exist? If so, what did he think of Kate’s song?

red and white

I’m rather fond of red and white – the colours of the most awesome footy team known to mankind. So when I spotted a swap with the theme of red and white I was naturally always going to be in.

Here is my offering that was sent on its merry way earlier this week:   

I do so hope the recipient likes.

I enjoyed a bit of stitchy fun and hooking up a chrissy star is always a pleasure… and gingham. I am going through a bit of a gingham phase at the moment. Love love loving anything remotely resembling gingham.

that’s better

Ahh! That’s better. I had the points all lined up wrong yesterday.  Now it is looking more as it should.

scraps

A big thank you to all for your heartfelt comments on my last post. If you’re anything like me you may well struggle to know what to write after a blogging pal shares some sad news or confides tough times but after Monday I now know that it isn’t necessarily what is said more the knowledge that people care enough to speak. Thanks again to all it meant a lot to know I was not alone.

 

Life goes on… and today I am working with my fabric scraps. On the weekend I started cutting pentagon shapes and today I continue to sort through my bits and pieces. I have come to realise that there is no time to use all the bits and pieces I have saved over time so I’m having a bit of a clear out and taking a bag full to my son’s school for crafting.

Some unpicking is also in order. This doesn’t look very “ball like” now does it???  Whilst I understand why it isn’t working I have been reading and re-reading the instructions of the tutorial I’m following and I can’t quite figure out what I should have done. I might very well be playing with this for the remainder of the day. I need to figure it out because I have pieces ready to make at least three of these!!!

Yesterday my not-so-little anymore baby O turned three months. What the? Where has that time gone. It is around this time that his age will be no longer recorded in weeks rather in months. The time just didn’t fly by so fast with his older siblings.

A start has been made on his blanket, there has been some unravelling too. It gives me so much pleasure to be hooking him a special blanket. So lovely. Crocheting is certainly so good for the mind, it’s meditative powers cannot be underestimated.

Linking up with the creative crew here.

the start

Today my father told me that he had cancer. He didn’t actually use the “c” word. I had to say that for him. “So you’ve got cancer” I said somewhat stunned down the phone line. It is big news, only a couple of hours old to me. There is a lot happening in my mind, it is busy and yet foggy. My heart at the moment of disclosure felt like a heavy rock and yet now my insides feel hollow and void – like there is a big empty space inside of me.

It is the start of something. Something that at this time is unknown. There will be more tests and scans later in the week and more news of options and treatments next week. Just now I think we’re all just processing. What exactly does this mean?

My father has always been one to talk in clichés. He speaks positively but it is apparent that there is so much that he isn’t saying.

I am scared.

Today a large package of yarn was put on my door step. It is filled with luscious cotton yarns from the Bendigo Woollen Mills. I bought the yarn so that I could hook my youngest boy a beautiful ripple cot blanket.

Tonight I will start.

this moment

 

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Playing along with soule mama.

never to work again

The hat and pants worn by E were formerly work pants of mine. Dating back to the pre-children era it is unlikely that the pants would ever suit me again. It was time they were given new life.

 

I used existing seams and hems for the pants and the hat is primarily bits and pieces of the waistband. These pants will never work again. May the play times be fun times.

Linking up with the creative mob over here.

twelve weeks

So very very jolly is my dear baby boy. When he smiles his face lights up and his eyes dazzle, full of life and elation, that I am yet to truly capture with the camera. It really is something super special. He is a people person: loves faces, enjoys a good chat, and adores his siblings. Bath time is a always enjoyed and perhaps it goes without saying that he enjoys his feeds. He sure is thriving.

ravel

Last week was a bit quiet on the blog front around these parts. Perhaps a bit of a hangover from Blogtoberfest. Probably more to do with things just being “not quite right”. Nothing was especially wrong, rather it was just one of those weeks where everything felt harder than it should, children lost “it” quicker than they usually do, things didn’t fall into place as easily as they might and there was a feeling within that I just couldn’t quite put my finger on to describe. It was all a bit blah, a bit tangled and messy you could say.

Funny then that I should spend much of the weekend on Ravelry creating an inventory of my yarny stash. I’m not particularly sure why all of a sudden it struck me as important to list every yarny possession of mine online and initially it felt quite strange to do so. What would other people think of the yarny treasures and bargains that I hoard? I was quite embarrassed actually. Feeling almost ashamed of all that I had, feeling weird that I was showing it off. As I persisted the benefits became quite apparent. Re-familiarising myself with my stash was inspiring and I wished I done it earlier as the very day before I had ordered two more balls of Parchment 8ply cotton from BWM completely and blissfully unaware that I already had three balls in my stash (for what purpose is now completely forgotten).

At the end of the process I didn’t feel so embarrassed. On the contrary, after checking out other people’s stashes I felt like my stash wasn’t so grandiose at all, and could in fact tolerate a little bit of fattening up. Maybe?

Are you on Ravelry? If you are do come and check me out. I’ve found some of you already but I’d love to hook-up [*sniggering at my own pun*– how pathetic] with more of you. Perhaps you’d like to pop by and take a squiz at my stash? Or see the projects I’m planning to attempt soon?

… and while I’m talking about  ravels and tangles and so forth – have you seen the Australian TV series Tangled? I borrowed the DVD of Series 1 & 2 from my local library. It is very good.

grateful…

… to live in a peaceful democratic society

… to have freedoms to express my identity and my views

… to know that there is assistance at hand in a state of emergency

… to have my loved ones with me, sheltered from the elements

… to be and to live amongst the wealthiest people on Earth.

… to not live in perpetual fear

… to the people who have fought so that I can live such a privileged life

… to the people who have made the ultimate sacrifice

… to the people who live with mental scars and endure nightmares whilst I sleep soundly

… to the families who are now one short

… to the women living without their other half.

 

I remember.

Image via

sunday snippets

A mundane rainy day stuck inside…

Playing along with tinniegirl.

the cupboard

That was then, this is now:

 

After a month of doing bits and pieces, just little bits here and there, the cupboard is looking a lot better.  The WIP box is looking close to overflowing so that is the focus of my creative endeavours at this time. Just trying to finish off a few projects that were started in order to clean out and use up bits and pieces that I’d been hanging onto.

 

 

 

This froggy shirt is the latest piece to be refashioned. I bought it for a dollar a while back because I just new that the frog print would be good for children’s clothes. The material is a lovely mid-weight woven cotton.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These froggy pants worked out rather well. They fit baby O well. They’re pretty cute and quite different to things found in the stores. I like that.

However I didn’t do so well with the little refashion t-shirt top. I now know that not all t-shirts are the same amount of stretchiness.

I made the singlet on the right first, but the shirt that I used didn’t have much stretch in it at all. I can’t even get it on over baby O’s head. I totally overcompensated with the second attempt (left) which was made from a different old black t-shirt with a lot more stretch. If I’d made the first singlet with the second t-shirt I think the result would have been perfect. As it is the second shirt will probably fit him for a couple of years! That’s value I suppose.

 

My first born child has seized the original singlet for a teddy bear to wear so I suppose it wasn’t a total failure. And the making did provide me with more practice time using the twin needle.

I think I’m actually starting to get the hang of it.

Good fit or not, my baby boy sure does look cute…

Now go take a leap over here where creativity flourishes.

thinking of you :: tania @ myrtle and eunice

Sometimes you really gotta wonder about the influence people have on you? Look at me here taking photos of a dead fly on my kitchen window sill.  I mean really? Who would inspire such behaviour? Yep. Tania @ Myrtle and Eunice. Summer is approaching and the fly population is making its presence felt. Every time I see a fly, or flies as is more common at this time of year, I think of Tania. Every time. Without fail.

You’ll understand why if you buzz on over here or here.

I like flies more than I ever used to thanks to Tania.