If you go down to the woods today

The black ground mins theres a wouf aproaching. And this story is a story of:

the ground going black and Jack rounds up all the sheep

But by accedent he livs one sheep out. He also livs his crook

the wouf is coming nearer and nearer...

I love the sheep's expression as the wolf comes nearer and nearer.  The crook is half a staple which gives some idea of scale.  One of my favourite things about motherhood is finding these little things around my house.

Coming Undone

It turned out that it wasn't Goliath that undid me, but my own bike.  Or rather falling off my bike and buggering my knee.  It was so exactly what I did not need in the middle of a two week trial that I gave in to a few moments of panicky self-pity "oh how am I going to possibly cope with four kids and a huge workload and people depending on me and a terminally ill client and and and...."

one of the many reasons I love my mum

And then I mostly got a grip, with only intermittent returns to self pity, and remembered that even when things are at their most difficult, I am so extraordinarily lucky: for my dear friend who is an emergency department doctor and got x-rays and investigations sorted for me, for my mother who came over and minded the kids and did my ironing, for my father-in-law who drove our unfamiliar-to-him car into the fog to pick me and my bike up, for my colleagues who brought me ice packs and cups of tea and zucchini slice and walked slowly to keep me company as I hobbled pathetically to court, for Craig who went out in the midst of a crazy day of his own to buy me this rather lovely (though not entirely practical) walking stick, for Grace who made me cards and presents, (and brought them to me as I tried to sleep) and for my immense good fortune in living in a country with health care so I don't have to worry that this piece of bad luck and timing will have anything more than a temporary impact.

As for Goliath, he and I both live on to fight another day, which, inevitably and exhaustingly, we will do.  In the meantime I am looking forward to finishing this bout and getting reaquainted with a few things I've been missing - like sewing and proper cooked meals and talking to friends and, oh yeah, my kids.  Missed them too......

David v Goliath

Hot air balloon  - Photo by Craig

When David entered the ring with Goliath, immense, looming, and he with only his sling shot, was he calm?  Did he know it was all that he needed? 
Was Goliath inwardly perturbed by this boy who seemed unafraid?  Did he have pause to note the stone and consider the damage it might wreak?  Did he bellow with confidence, or bluster?

I'm going into the ring with Goliath tomorrow.  I don't feel calm.  I am not at all sure that a sling shot is going to be all that it takes.  Goliath doesn't seem perturbed by my presence.  He's big but he isn't a fool and we both know that, unless my stone lands exactly on his temple, it won't do much damage.

I keep reminding myself; it is only work.

Penguin Parade



Grace's penguin

It's been cold around these parts the last few days. Penguin weather. This one seems happy.

liv it olone!

I was never one who could leave a wobbly tooth alone, an itch unscratched, a scab unpicked.

At 6, it's all about teeth. Losing them, growing them, show-and-telling them.

Unguarded Moment

We listened to Unguarded Moment  by The Church in the car tonight. The younger three girls were asleep, Ruby alone was awake.  She liked this song, "especially when he sings 'They only make me feel like...'".  This is one of my favourite songs, but I don't know what it is about - the men with 'horses for hearts' who 'make me feel like shrinking'. It reminds me of being nineteen, life about to start, anything possible.

When do moments become guarded?  When does the feeling that anything is possible dissipate?  This weekend Lily danced naked on the kitchen table, to the joy of all.  Grace will still half shut her eyes in a kind of ecstasy when she dances.  Ruby danced in front of the darkened glass doors this evening as we packed to leave the beach, but probably would have stopped if she realised I was watching.

This song made me feel nostalgic even when I was nineteen.  Sharing this music with Ruby, driving through the darkened world, sleeping children in the car.  We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

Going Slow

The computer has been going slow for the past few weeks, whilst life conspired to go fast.  In the absence of the five-minute-email-check-turned-into-hour-long-net-surf quite a bit of stuff got done, despite the work-related busy-ness.

This skirt for Ruby was my first venture into dressmaking without following a pattern. It's a long way from perfect but ended up pretty much how I wanted, though I need to take the hem up a bit. I found the right buttons here.  I like the little excerpt of someone else's life you get in places like the Nicholas building.

I started on one of these quilts which is intended to`be the colours of the beach - greys, blues, muted yellows. Wow, that sounds terribly wanky -hopefully the quilt won't be.

The yellow you may recognise from here. That grey material in the front was once part of a favourite skirt of mine.  But then, one very wild and woolly Melbourne night, whilst cycling home from work in the rain, that skirt became tangled in my bike spokes.  And in my haste to get it untangled, this happened:

That skirt will now become part of a quilt and a shorter skirt for Nina. I know I ought not cycle in skirts, especially longish wrap skirts. But I do.

And while I was doing all the cutting for the quilt, I felt the need for a bit of quick satisfaction in the form of a finished item. The lazy days skirt is a favourite. It takes about 30 minutes and looks especially adorable on a twenty month old big nappied bottom with chunky waist and stubby legs. I've made a few of these in various sizes, but this size definitely works best I reckon.