Good Things On A Busy Day

Lemon cupcakes

and other prettiness.

IN OTHER WORDS

In other words

a poem is a way

of knowing you are alive

as shocking as fish leaping out of deep water

as sharp as

light stabbing

through a row of trees,

as bold as

opening up your eyes during prayer

as simple as

lying awake in the middle of the night

listening to the sound of people snoring.

Every minute

of every day

of every life

is a full library.

Glenn Colquhoun

My Doll's House

"By now Flora was really cross. Surely she had endured enough for one evening without having to listen to intelligent conversation?

-Cold Comfort Farm

No worry of that here. I painted upstairs in the weekend. This is the playroom/office that we hope to make a bedroom when we can afford to put in a big window on the left. I painted it turquoise - the pic colours are weird, but I think this looks almost right.

My friend told me I need to re-stuff the big one, as it's getting a little floppy. ;-)

Jolly Nightmare Jumper

It's finished! Hmm, not sure about the modeling pose but. . .

L8 thinks it looks like chainmail. First I bought the wrong yarn, then I struggled to find a matching pattern, then I struggled again with short rows, then I realized that despite adding inches and inches to the body and sleeves and having one of the skinniest children in the country, the size 8 was totally mini. Grrrr. No way I was doing it again. It'll last for one winter and next year it'll fit P5, then it won't be long till S1 gets a turn I'm sure. I'll probably pull off the name buttons before I hand it down though. Cuteness - I was worried that putting his name on it might be naff, but L8 asked if he could wear it "to show my class" tomorrow. Awwww.

So next project. . .

a paua inspired wool dress for P5. It's 4 ply, and I don't have the right needles, so it's going to take a loooong time. I'm even doing a gauge swatch this time. Shock.

We Have Pictures!

Okay one. And a not a very good one at that. But after new card and new card-reader, the blog eyes are back open.

Early morning happiness - I was knitting, L&P were playing with the train set they haven't played with for years, and Blokey Husband was doing the dishes. What more could a girl want? Oh okay, chocolate, wine and new shoes, sure.

I even satisfyingly finished L8's jumper, but not till just now so I can't get a reasonable pic of it till tomorrow morning.

In The Absence Of Pictures Due To Aforementioned Memory Card Munching

here's why L8 is going to major in logic one day:

"On Opposite Day it is the opposite of Opposite Day, which is Not-Opposite Day, therefore Opposite Day can never happen."

Also out of the blue on the way to school this morning:

" 'Maybe' and 'maybe not' mean the same thing."

You Know That Day

that I accidentally ate the memory card instead of the chocolate I had in the other hand? Well now it's finally dead.

Shame, because I had pictures of stained-glass window bikkies too.

Still, TheOtherSarah found this, which I just have to share in place of my broken pictures. Check it out! So who else is going to try this tomorrow?

It's Not All Knitting And Baby Pics Around Here

Oh no, today I bring you the gritty toughness of my boxing gloves. Yeah. As part of my ongoing midlife crisis, I'm getting fit. Well, a bit fitter anyway. And the boxing class is certainly the most fun. Everyone loves a bit of sweaty smashing stuff, don't they? Phwoar.

Oh okay, just a bit of yarn lust too. This isn't mine sadly. It arrived when I shared postage on an order with super nova. I was horrified when I opened the long-awaited package and discovered I liked her yarn way more than mine. Now I have a cruel lust for some of this, but too many projects already in mind to be able to justify it. But one day, sometime, I too am gonna make something completely beautiful with a rainbow of squish just like this:

One day. You gotta plan ahead after all.

Happy Old Blokes

Blokey Husband and Bunce have both treated themselves to ebookreaders. I thought since they have different brands they might duel at dawn with them, but Blokey Husband pointed out they are the two least likely people in the whole universe to battle. Still, they are pretty happy blokes. But OMG it's impossible to make them look reasonable in a photo after they've quaffed a few wines. . .

You think that was bad - those were the goodies. Try this:

Ha!

Making Day

P5 played with the uncooked pie crust last night and begged for more. So first thing this morning she bounded in and reminded Blokey Husband that he promised today was the morning she could cook, and she wanted to do it all by herself.

He helped her make the dough then left her to it. She had a whole story around the cooking and how she didn't need a recipe because she was a famous chef and one day this would be on her menu. She made "Pakina non bread" which looked like this before it was baked:

and didn't taste too bad after it was.

L8 made his robug, which was a kit he was given for his birthday that I have been meaning to help him with for ages (we bought that can of drink especially for it at least two months ago). Actually TBH I assumed Blokey Husband would do it with him, but after I was grumpy with L8 yesterday I decided I'd better spend some time bonding with him, and give it a go myself.

We did it! It vibrates. And moves. And has a switch.

It was a much better day.

Meh.

Odd Drawing Requests

L8 has been having a regular dull headache, so I took him to the optometrist for an eye test. Nothing staggering, bit far sighted, but they gave him a pair of 'loaner' glasses to try for a while to see if it helps. Ha - as soon as he saw himself he needed a lightning bolt scar.

Also while we are on random cute requests, P5 asked this evening if I could draw her a sheep, because the one Blokey Husband drew for her was apparently inadequate. I understood why when I began and she explained I had to draw a bald sheep as she wanted to draw the wool. It's quite hard to make a sheep look sheep-like without wool. Mine was okayed, but she did make me put in a mouth in a weird place, when previously he was a rather blank-faced sheep.

Anyway, point of the story is he looked really cute when she added the wool.

Perhaps you've been hanging out in the kapa haka group too much when you start seeing koru-shaped wool.

Getting Knitty With It

I finished me some funky socks. Why yes, I stood on a chair to give them a pink background too. But I didn't bother matching the stripes 'cos I like them wonky like this.

Nearing completion in a project always sends me into a flap about the next. I was going to knit a stripy dress for P5, but the yarn has only just been sent and I have a bit of a phobia about being project-less, so yesterday I whipped out with this is mind:

for L8, who had asked me to knit something for him for this winter. Sadly I only had the picture in my mind, not the details, or indeed the book in my bag, which would have been even more useful, and so the yarn I got:

was sadly lacking in the chunk department. Gah. The frustration of always being in a rush. Or maybe it's just disorganization. Whatever.

Fortunately I have a brainy friend who pointed me in this direction. . . . fisherman's pullover link that only works if you happen to be an ravelry. . . which will do nicely. Thanks TheOtherSarah.

Braveness I Reckon

P5 loves all the singing parts of school, and today she told me she went at lunchtime and joined the Kapa Haka group. She even went up to the teacher who takes it, and told her she was new and wanted to join and be added to the roll. I reckon that's really brave when you are five.

Also, how cute is she gonna be singing her waiata?

Orange

Lurid orange ice-cream

for my ORANGE belt boy! (Since I have the mac blogger doesn't seem to want to let me use coloured text anymore. What's that about?)

Whoop! L8 graded. Karate is so very suited to him - full of rules, concentration, discipline and hierarchy. I think I might have to channel my inner tiger mother to keep him going if he starts losing interest, but at the moment - well done little one with the lethal weapon hands.

I asked if he felt proud, and he said "One hundred percent proud."

Remember This

Finding an old fave song that you had forgotten is like unearthing an old friend. No wait, actually it's way better.

"Milk is a song by Garbage that has some lovely dooodley-dooodley-doo bits, and some tinkly, plinky plonky pianos too! There's a lady who sings the laaa-dee-daa bits and a drum that goes boosh boosh boosh (bam!). I don't think you could ask for anything more."

Do Geese See God?

P5 is at such a super age. Today she's been like having a mini life-coach roaming around the house. She walked up to Blokey Husband this morning and told him "You look too grumpy. You should try smiling more." :)

After scoffing brekkie (yes, it's still on her face) she did some art.

At one point she thought about putting water over it, and told me "Artists have good ideas, silly ideas and great ideas. I'm going to do it."

It worked.

This evening she piped up out of the blue and said "I like words because I can play with them." I can think of a few others in her family who might agree with that statement. She started us off by showing us how she could write 'Pool' and turn it into 'Room' and got L8 started on palindromes, which we played with at bathtime.

I love you P5, and the way you help shape our days. You are wise and thoughtful. It's easy to be distracted because you are absolutely funny and cute as a button too of course, but I love the way your little head works.

A Blog Post Possibly Ending In A Large Inheritance For Me.

We had a friend to stay overnight for the first time and it worked. Yay. This is the only pic I have, and this is actually the only moment that didn't work. Boo. Disagreement over a chess move. By the time I intervened, the pieces had been moved, so there was no arbitration to be had, but there were tears. Happily quiet tears from my own (you don't want to make some else's child cry, heaven forbid!) through his frustration. If I'm looking on the bright side, these two didn't take anything out on each other, and there was not a smidgeon argy bargy to be seen. (Also how much does L8 look like turtle? Freaky. )

That's not to say my boy wasn't difficult the last 24 hours though. He was. A poo to use his own fave word, and I was threatening Borstal at one point in the day. As usual, he turned it around just as I was at the end of my tether, deciding my life was a disaster because I already live with a teenager, and will probably have to do so for the next 12 to 15 years or so. Arghhhh!

As quickly as it arrived, the attitude left, and after bath L8 asked if we had time to play Minus (the card game he has concocted with his delightfully geeky school friend) and could P5 please be on his team? If you know my children, you probably just died of immediate myocardial infarction, so I do apologise about that. Especially to my sister who probably now has the flailing bodies of my parents on her lounge floor. Um, sorry hon. Anyway, in case you don't believe in this sudden sibling harmony (I sure don't and I was an eye witness) here, proof:

And if that wasn't enough, there were love notes involved. Now that's not too unusual for P5:

but do you know, they went the other way too. This one he has pre-prepared to sneak into P5's room when she is asleep so she will find it in the morning:

As if there was a cardiac system not in arrest yet and still reading. . . L8 scored a goal today at soccer too.

I know. Defib paddles anyone?

Missing Friday

Blogger is back! And they found the lost posts too. Phew. Someone, somewhere, is in serious troub for that one.

So all I have to share is P5's gem from the other night. . . "If you don't stop laughing L8, I'll slap you in the penis."

The eloquence of little girls is just marvelous.

Staying Zen

I will not whinge about tradesmen, even when they are coming tomorrow for the seventh time to fix the same thing. I will not be so petty. I will remember how fortunate I am. I will count my blessings. I got to do this at lunchtime. And I managed to persuade Blokey Husband to duck out of work and come too.

That's a lucky life.

A Present

P5 came running out of her class today to excitedly tell me that she had made me a present:

It's a collage, and yes, I love it my sweet. I also like this blurry picture from this afternoon, when she sat in her ballet clothes and asked for a globe so that she could explain to me why shadows appear to move throughout the day. It's the earth moving you know, even though it looks like the sun is moving. Miraculous.

And it's a pity that it isn't still mother's day, because I also really like this, that I read here.

eight and a half years later

i can't say that i ever knew,
ever had the slightest fathoming
of the things i would find,
would understand
in a sweaty upper lip
a warm damp palm in mine
the eight eyes that follow me
trace me without really seeing me
only knowing me as the shell that
encloses, that webs and encases,
that lifts and cups and tamps:
mother.

my bending took form within and without me, in
that first eye opening, first gust of breath
in a hospital fragrant with death and life
i lost the entitlement i had.

i battled it, i really did. raged
because surely i would get my dazzle
in the sunlight. surely i was not now a servant
of tiny needs, the yawning gulf of desire
for food, for touch. walking the infinite hours
that should have been my sleep
covered with my own milk, waiting for
relief and then realizing that i was there
to give it.

fighting proved ineffective.

outnumbered and bent almost in half
i gave in to the bending
and straightened. i lost
and won. the stories that now make me
are curved like their cheeks, the lines of
their necks, the boats they make from paper
the origami creases, the dirty heels marking
me as they swing against my legs, the swirls
of crayon on the walls where there should be no
such thing, the hours sitting beside the toilet telling stories
the food left in the bowls, all the coaxing
the sharp words, the sticks that are really swords, the climbing,
the jumping from high places, the naked soft limbs
in the water, the card games, the robots, the snakes
and dogs, the sheafs of paper dreams, the infinite mornings.

the infinite mornings.

i let them inside and they shaped me
i became fuzzy, rounded, looser, damper.
with force my new shape could not hold my old self,
she would slip right through me,
i would lose her. but somehow,
--you know how this ends--
somehow stretched and matted,

glued and bent, i have found her

Prfeshnal At Kniting

A couple of years ago I struggled through knitting a Victoria Vest for my sister, and since then I've wanted one myself. I'm finally quick enough to consider it, and hurrah, it's done. But between Blokey Husband's minimal photography skills

and my grizzly modelling skills

it was easier to knit than to blog, frankly.

L8 chose to write an acrostic poem for his homework tonight, and this is what he wrote:

Perfect in every way

Is very kind

Pritey

Prfeshnal at kniting

Awsome at everything

Aww, it's lovely to be loved.

You Are Gonna Be Dead One Day Anyway

so who cares if you make a dick of yourself? Here's my confession - I went to a zumba class today. OMG it was hard. I just don't wiggle that way. Interesting how you have no idea which muscles to move to make your booty do that. Why would you even want it to do that? It was okay though because there was a bunch of ladies even more ancient than me in the class. When I watched them, did I think how painfully unco they were? Nope. I thought: you go old girls.

L8 is also being sporty at the moment, since we put up a basketball hoop. When he was a tiny baby Blokey Husband and I agreed that if we ever were going to encourage a sport, it'd be basketball so that if we had to go to games it would be inside, we could sit, and we could sneak our books in too.

Mother's Day

Happiness is the lovely cards and drawings given to me this morning. I'm in love with P5's little people at the moment, and her growing interest in colouring her pictures. L8's card was so him. Very tidy.

Then there was some absolute bliss. Knitting in bed. And what is that in the background? Is it? Could it be? Why yes. It is. Contented sigh.

Then P5 asked when I would teach her to knit. She just has such a good understanding of people that child. I swear she only asked because she knew I'd enjoy it. She lasted half a row. But it was a very happy half row for me.

I baked bread, and worrying there wouldn't be enough I attempted to put two loaves on one cooking surface, which Blokey Husband reckoned made a very appropriate booby-shaped loaf.

Then there was concert conducted by our shiny-shoed friend (not sure why L8 looks like a wide-mouthed frog, but he's cute anyway)

and also a movie and dinner too with my BFF 'cos I'm totally spoilt and lucky and undeserving but grateful.

Happy Mother's Day to my Mum, who taught me to face my tigers and lots of other good advice along the way I'm sure.

Being a mother pretty much rocked today.

Salvador Lives!

The eyes aren't nearly mad enough, but after P5 sticky taped this on her Dad, all we could see was Dali. I was going to put a nice quote in here, but when I went to choose one, it was clearly impossible. So many gems I couldn't pick a favourite.

• Each morning when I awake, I experience again a supreme pleasure - that of being Salvador Dali.

• It is good taste, and good taste alone, that possesses the power to sterilize and is always the first handicap to any creative functioning.

• Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating. It is either good or bad.

• I have Dalinian thought: the one thing the world will never have enough of is the outrageous.

• I seated ugliness on my knee, and almost immediately grew tired of it.

• In order to acquire a growing and lasting respect in society, it is a good thing, if you possess great talent, to give, early in your youth, a very hard kick to the right shin of the society that you love. After that, be a snob.

• The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents.

• Those who do not want to imitate anything, produce nothing.

This Is The Face

of a man who thought he was missing a new episode of Dr Who. (I'm lying - I missed it the first time, so he faked it for me. And he reads this blog too, so how stupidly gullible is he? Or maybe that's kindly and whatever the word for the opposite of narcissistic is. Good man.)

This is the face of girl who finally got her dots put in. Third time lucky. (And this time it didn't even hurt at all. Not even a tickle. So for the first time I started thinking, hmmm, I could do some more ink. . . Slippery slide and all. )

I did take lots of lovely black and white pictures of everyone tonight, but for some reason picasa has kindly decided to show them in the original colours. Gee, thanks to the propeller-head who wrote that clever little gem.