fiveandtwo

Pink Clouds

Coming home from Net, Set, Go with my budding netballers yesterday it was hard to keep my eyes on the road. Look at these splendidly coloured clouds. So beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now I guess this is where having Photoshop would be useful - I could edit out that powerline. Can you do things like that using Photoshop?

Now, why are my photos all this big regardless of how I resize them?

I obviously haven't had time to have another Typepad fiddle and investigate Typepad Help (usually quite good).

I've been fiddling around designing and drawing little dresses, skirts and tops. If I make a pettern for a basic A-line dress, a basic skirt and a couple of basic top styles then they can form the foundation to which various sleeve, collar/neckline, fastening and pocket styles can be added. The patterns can be cut apart to have contrast insertions and the like. I have an end roll of newsprint, the measurements for sizes 3 months to 4-5 years (beyond that young lasses get too picky), a how-to book of patternmaking, a long ruler, set square and french curve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ready, set, go! Cough...

Fish o' The Decade

Definitely a once-a-decade phenomenon. My husband catching an eating size fish, that is (not through lack of effort, though).

A 1kg trout, what a beauty.

It's been a scattered week. Well, more so than usual.

I got my large, luxurious sheepskin off lay-by. I haven't sat on it yet, but doesn't it look sooo comfortable.

A random room shot from where I was sitting on the couch to photograph the "sheepy".

The room through the doorway is Linsey's bedroom. It's really interesting to go and look at the ever-changing pictures, photos and artworks on her walls.

I was tagged for the "Seven Weird Things" meme by Janet. I should be able to come up with loads of weird things to tell since I've been considered weird for most of my life! The label did lessen somewhat upon finishing high school. Then I pretty much embraced the tag.

I'll come up with the seven in due course.

The Old Laundry

Abandoned buildings. Ruined, not one pane of glass intact.

I am drawn to poking around in them. Creepy, but irresistible.

Near my house is what used to be the original town hospital, then it became the town geriatric centre, finally sold to Sea Sun College. People from China whose plan was to set up a school to be attended, periodically,  by groups of students from China. That seems to have fallen through somehow. Only one group ever came, and that was six years ago. Rumour has it there were problems obtaining visas. I don't know.

The original hospital building is heritage listed (it's beautiful: old, red brick, ornamented, gothic windows...). Other parts of the complex are rented to community groups like the local theatre company, country music club, U3A and family history association. One whole wing was the premises of our short-lived Steiner School.

The old laundry was rented to the gymnastics club for a while.

It's been unoccupied for several years now.

Vandals have had a fine time.

Once buildings aren't occupied, they seem to deteriorate rapidly. I reckon the old laundry would make a great conversion/renovation project. I doubt anyone round here has the kind of dollars required for such an undertaking.

Look at these sky windows.

English ivy invades.

The boiler room chimney.

Boy, would I love to get in and photograph all those pipes and cables in the boiler room. Tantalising glimpses through broken wall panels.

The space once used by the gymnastics club.

All windows broken, inside and out.

Boarded up.

Want to see some sinister artwork and animation based around the abandoned factories of what was East Berlin? Visit 99rooms. Amazing, definitely sinister - some rooms are downright scary. I love it!

P.S. Things are settling down around here...for now.

To The City For A Day

Off we went on the train - husband, twins and I.

At the last minute I took A Life by Design by Siobhan O'Brien (biography of Florence Broadhurst) to read instead of the planned Katherine Mansfield, The Collected Stories. The former book was more compact.

I do wish I'd taken my first choice, though. Even with talking to small fry and husband the Florence Broadhurst book only lasted as far as Warragul on the way back (two hours to go - what a waste of reading time!). Fortunately I had the catalogue from the art exhibition we went to - the purpose of the day trip.

What was it? Modern Britain 1900 - 1960: Masterworks from Australian and New Zealand Collections.

It was all I hoped for. So many wonderful works. And my knowledge of all this art history stuff is so patchy. But now I have a smattering more.

John Bratby's Windows, Paul Nash's Sunflower and Sun, I admire the work of Augustus John, but I reckon he was a revolting man, Charles Holmes' Black Hill Moss, Winifred Knights' The Marriage at Cana - it was all so good.

Good, in spite of the whining , "Can we go now", small fry. Good, in spite of having some sort of "weak and shaky" low blood sugar attack (yes, I'd had a good breakfast, taken on the train with me: slices of already toasted ciabatta with hummous, and two nashis). These "attacks" have happened a couple of times a week ever since I can remember.

My paternal family history is rampant with type 2 diabetes. I have a fasting blood glucose test regularly. My brother, eighteen months older than me (he's 45) was diagnosed type two last year.

"Where are the pictures?", you say. Our small point-and-shoot digital camera has gone AWOL. I have suspicions of its whereabouts, but...must wait. Or perhaps it's been lost or stolen.The DSLR is too bulky to carry in a handbag, probably why it's still here. And will remain so, I don't allow the kids to take it places (too expensive to replace).

The Neighbourhood House art class hasn't started up for the year yet. I havn't lifted a brush or pencil since that class ending last year. I think, therefore, that I'm not a true artist. They're the ones who have  to make art in spite of everything else. Families and relationships are neglected.

Well, I ain't one of those. I think, perhaps, I'm a maker. I make stuff. My new title: Maker of Stuff. I like that. Long may it remain! Official forms: occupation - Maker of Stuff. I think I may have had a revelation. Goodness.

You may find pictures in my next post. I have been furiously reupholstering chairs.

To post without a picture is weird.

Good Company And Crafting

Linsey, the small fry and I stayed with a good buddy at St Andrews last weekend.

Linsey had her first experience of city driving and did really well. It's not easy for a novice to keep an eye on traffic both sides of the car, in front and behind as well as things like traffic lights, road signs and so forth. I don't think I stressed too much, although I do remember saying, "Brakes!", rather loudly once or twice.

I made sure our visit to St Andrews included a Saturday. Can't miss the excellent market held there, no way.

Following a lengthy browse at St Andrews market we took ourselves to Fitzroy for a look at the Rose Street Artist Market. Such talent, such beautiful goodies. My husband rang while I was there (computer glitch at work) and I crowed about how I was surrounded by wondrous things and hadn't spent a cent. Well, in the next five minutes a bought an etching of a magpie by Bridget Farmer! Heh, that'll teach me.

My buddy is keen to bring the fiveandtwo the business out of recess, so we had coffee and crafted, sipped wine and crafted and just plain crafted. The perfect activity for a good catch-up. I swotted on the sewing machine the day before leaving, nothing like leaving it until the last minute. But I then had a pile of things to finish with hand sewing and stuff, plenty to work on for sure.

Behold, finished items:

The felt pups are from ages ago, the dachshund just needed some buddies for the photo opportunity.

I was trying out patterns from this book:

These in particular:

Apples galore. Quick to make with a sewing machine. Sew, stuff, sew up the stuffing hole. Done. The stalk is leather thonging which, fortuitously, I found many metres of at the op shop only the week before! The stalk I sewed in with the last seam. Easy.

From this book:

Minus the beads in this (not very good) photo.

A pair of hedgehogs (echidas?):

From this book:

Horses from fabric. I don't think they "work" - poor choice of fabric perhaps. The felt ones are better, I reckon.

And, finally, this fellow, who's yet to have eyes and nose. Already claimed by Linsey. Very happy with him. Made from scraps of linen and some really soft wool bought from that recent bountiful garage sale.

And this is the book the pattern's from:

More are cut out, including one of these "sleepy" ones. Sleeping in its own bag. Very cute.

One more page from the book:

Hmmm, perhaps you've noticed my current penchant for Japanese craft books? Bounty of last year's Family Tax Credit. What use are they if you don't craft from them. These little projects are mighty good for using up scraps of fabric. You know, those tiny pieces of wonderful stuff that you can't bear to toss.

One panel of an apple (or pear) uses a miniscule amount of fabric. Also the dachshund and the car. More for the mousey-doggy animals.

An extremely productive weekend. It's definitely easier to be productive not being surrounded by all that household stuff that needs attention!

The Young And Firm

It seemed like the fastest week ever, and it was great! I felt that our family was enjoying each other's company. Parents, teenagers and small fry. Lots of joking around, hanging out at the beach,  watching Christmas gift DVDs - even a hilarious trip to the supermarket. I loved it. Gives me strength for the hard yards.

Ahh, the Beauty of Youth. Firm and slender. Is it weird to admire your children's bodies? I did, you know, admire other fine specimens as they strolled past. Actually, the beach is a place to see people of all ages, shapes, sizes and ethnicity. Glorious humankind.

Each afternoon we were visited by a group of these beautiful birds.

Crimson (blue-cheeked) Rosellas. Twice a lorikeet turned up but was chased away. On Christmas Day we were treated to a group of kangaroos lounging on the grass across the road. Clare spent an afternoon at the beach trying to catch small fish with her bare hands.

A beautiful place. In retrospect I think a week away as a family, has helped strengthen the unit. Restorative (thank goodness).

Art Exhibition

Off to Melbourne on the train last Thursday with four offspring. Giles, Leah, Clare and Ally. Aim: to see the exhibition "Guggenheim Collection 1940's to Now". Secondary aim of older ones was to spend money sent by their Uncle.

Yes, well, Giles and Leah didn't get anywhere near this place.

The "Guggenheim" was enjoyed by the small fry and me. Clare and Ally managed to be told off for playing in Donald Judd's Untitled (eight large orange cubes in a row). Their favourite was Dan Flavin's untitled(to Jan and Ron Greenberg), you will need to google it to see what it is - rather hard to describe, flourescent light tubes mainly.

I had some old favourites, some old still-not-liked (Jeff Koons).

We wended our way through the rest of the galleries. European paintings and all. Clare found a dog just like Suska (our reject greyhound) in one painting.

Older ones out of money by midday. Meet at Federation Square to progress to Ian Potter Centre. I'm hoping they'll now take in some art now that they're broke.

Giles and Leah relax on the couches in the foyer of Ian Potter Centre. Mother seriously disappointed. Casts aside older children as horribly parochial. No hope for them.

Discover the free Art Cart for kids on Level Three. Clare and Ally spend 1.5 hours fiddling and making sculptures while I wander in and out. Take in a few rooms - check on the kids - take in a couple more rooms - check - and so on. Very nice. The philistines occupy a couch in the foyer.

Mother enters Gallery bookshop. Spends a good hour or so in there and exacts revenge on the lounge people.

Just some pics of the small fry acting up. As usual.

Yeah, Well.

Eldest daughter and I had an unplanned trip up the mountains to Omeo this afternoon!  My husband had taken Leah, Giles, Clare, Ally and a friend of Giles' to stay at his brother's holiday house in Omeo earlier in the day, ready for a frolic in the last of the snow at Mt Hotham tomorrow, and some fishing in the Mitta Mitta River on Sunday. Ah, but Clare and Ally's bag of clothes was left behind...Beachy summer thing: no problem. Cold weather, good chance of wet clothes: different matter. So off we went in "The Hummer", actually a weeny '86 Suzuki 4WD. Husband, of course, had taken the Tarago with all the hordes of kids.

It's a picturesque drive through forest, farmland, mountain and river. This isn't  where I grew up, not even close,  but it's a really special, comfortable place. And now it's home.

We stopped for Linsey to move a turtle off the road. Unfortunately, it'd  died and maggots fell out of the shell. Poor Linsey - she did put it on the side of the road but had to wait 40km to the next town to wash her hands!

Oh, the reason us older females are at home: Linsey is working and needs to be picked up at 10.30pm. Not happy for her to walk home at that hour. No public transport here. Even then...

I've been resisting blogland, posting on my blog, op-shopping and all "time-wasting" activity this week. Mighty hard I'll admit..

However, these have been planted out.

The immensely exciting pic. from a previous post - of punnets of dirt - actually brought forth something! Lettuces and coriander. There are also tomatoes and capsicum, but, while the the air temp. has been enticingly warm, the soil temp. is still too cold for planting out those summer lovelies. Seeds of rocket, and some late sugar snap peas have also gone in. The californian poppies are up. The dog is doing a good job thinning them by trampling.

Until the wind of today this fabulous tree was alive. Humming with bees, a magical sound. I've never pruned this tree (it's 11 years old) beyond cutting off the bits that poke me in the eye when I walk past. It's astonishingly bountiful. It's a haven of shade in the hot weather. I adore this tree. Yeah, gush, gush. But  I do. The fruit is sensational fresh, dries succulently, makes great jam. Sorry, does not stew well. I am not a fan of stewed apricots so it isn't a big deal.

The other stupendously flowering tree - yeah, yeah too many faffy words, I know - is the Satsuma plum. Outside the twins' window. It hums right now too. I don't get so excited about this one. Terrific savoury plum sauce - best I've ever had. One of Stephanie Alexander's recipes. Her pickled plums are damned good too. If you like tart things (I do). Blood plums make a rather nice tart jam. I think these plums need plenty of sun to really sweeten up. This tree has a bit too much shade in the afternoon to achieve that. But, when you look out you window -

And when it's hot in summer, it's all leafy greenness, making the room a cool haven.

Oh yes, the Totem Tennis. This is it.

Sometimes known as Orbit Tennis. String on this one broke soon after (replacement will be string number three).

Op-Shop finds I will post tomorrow night. Linsey wants computer time now.

I

Procrastinating (and a Visit to the Big Smoke)

Leah and I took the train to Melbourne at the crack of dawn yesterday. A trip I really enjoy - three or so hours of reading time there and again coming home. I read Peter Goldsworthy's Three Dog Night which I am still digesting. Not because it was indigestible, because I'm still thinking about parts of it. The disturbing "love triangle", Western Desert imagery, the way Walpiri language bird names echo the call of the bird, the ushering in of memories: living in Alice Springs many years ago, the astonishing and beautiful landscape, sadness at the hideous limbo that's snared so many of the aboriginal people.

I enjoyed Goldsworthy's book Maestro which caused me to buy the other at the op-shop.

Unfortunately I finished the book before reaching Sale. Had an hour to try and be meditative with Leah sleeping on my shoulder. It was lovely to have that closeness with her, to have her to myself for a day. She really suffered when the twins were born, I think sometimes she's been scarred by the experience. It was a pleasure to indulge her yesterday. We spent time at her "Mecca", the shop Supre, and a number of other shops, where she got loads of bargains. Leah is pretty much fully grown now, and so petite. Imagine buying extra small!

The other purpose of the visit, however, was to catch up with my sister, who'd flown down for a long weekend to see Phantom of the Opera. Cathy is a big fan of musicals, and Anthony Warlow who I believe plays the lead. She lives in Singleton (NSW), and rather than wait until it opens in Sydney she decided to lash out and see it in Melbourne. And why not: she's single! While we've never really had lots in common, we get along quite well these days. I noted that we're looking very alike now. I'm not sure what to think about this because Cathy was always "the good and pretty one". Perhaps I've become more good and she's become less pretty! Who knows (and who cares). Well, just by having mentioned it reveals that I do care, even if it's marginal now, obviously it's been an issue in the dim, dark past. I do admit I was a bit thingy, but yeah, it's been a long while since I went there. And basically, now, I'm too happy with my life to bother.

And now some more wattle:

Dwarf fringed wattle, acacia fimbriata.

I've two, on the other side of the fence. Not from here, but very hardy here all the same.                               

Sewing, no. Procrastinating, yes. So much so, I've even taken up the brush.

After more than a year.

Fiddling with something from about three years ago

   

A dud from about four years ago. A landscape that I wasn't happy with, obviously, since I did all that white painting out. One day, on a dog walk,  I had an idea of what to do. the start of it is in the lower right hand corner. It's a start. With many sewing and craft projects cut out or partially finished  it's crazy to embark on this. Crazy. Definitely .                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Flood

I intended posting these photos sooner. As you know, I was away and missed all the action, but I charged Giles and Leah with taking a few photos for me. Well, 359 photos later...It's taken a bit of time to sort and select, print hard copy for the albums and then delete this gigantic file!

On the river flats two "removed houses" were on chocks awaiting new places to settle. One has now settled against a row of willows that line a road, the other is in a paddock further on after depositing its bathtub and handbasin on the way. Both are very damaged. I'm told it was a sight these houses floating along!

Flooded Macleod's Morass, a quite extensive area of reedbeds and swamp. There's a boardwalk that leads to a bird hide where you can watch all the morass activity. But not if you've gone with a buch of noisy children!

Inundated apple orchard. The trees survive if they don't spend too much time under, according to Reg and Mary who own it. I wonder if they were able to move the picked fruit out of the packing shed and coolroom, because they were flooded too. In season they also have raspberries, plums, corn, tomatoes and pumpkins. The farm is actually in town, spread out along the river flats. I love it, you just go down to the shed and buy your fruit using an honour system (plastic ice-cream container). The produce tastes great too. Mary plants all sorts of things, in the photo above, front left, is a wisteria growing along the fence. Native and European trees are also dotted around. Bulbs pop up in spring - a real green thumb!