As I was approaching the traffic light (on red) a parking space appeared as if by magic in front of the charity shop.
I parked.
I saw.
I saw some more.
I bought.
I got back into the car.
Green light.
And that ladies (and gentlemen, are there any gentlemen out there? hello?) is how it's done.
Did you know it's almost Easter?
Why didn't you tell me? Call yourself a friend?
If I don't hurry my kids will be left without chocolate and that is ground for mutiny around here.
They will rebel, they'll stage a coup...
Today I will therefore be brief, I just want to mention this website: www.postcrossing.com.
It's great, if you like me, love (and always have) receiving 'real' mail then this is for you. It's basically a world wide postcard swap. You register your details, request up to 5 addresses at a time and send them postcards. In turn you will receive 5 postcards from 5 different people all over the world... when your postcards have been registered (you must write the special code you're given) you can start again...
So far I received postcards from Finland, Hungary and China... I'm sure the postman is scratching his head wondering what's going on... but it's great fun. It brings you back to the days of having a pen-pal... did you have one? Wasn't it great?
The next thing I'm quietly obsessing about is this set of tableware:
It's Danish (www.normann-copenhagen.com) and it's called Mormor which means grandma - even the name is gorgeous!!
oh my oh my. Isn't it simply perfect?
An easy Sunday.
Mr M is in New York on business. When we visited together we bought this painting
(Jaberwocki, by Peter Ostuni)
I love the patchwork of colours and the mistery creature hiding inside.
The boys are in the kitchen. Behind the tapping of my computer keys I can hear No 1 slaying enemies on the computer - he's a child of our time through and through; I can hear the other two discussing the fate of a cardboard box and miles of sticky tape being ripped from the dispenser - I daren't think what might be created, but I've been banned from the kitchen for a while. I might regret agreeing to this.
I came into my studio with great intentions of tidying up but I got distracted...
by the pattern and colours of a vinyl coat hanger
for which I have no use but I couldn't resist.
By this potholder I just finished
which reminds me of the ones my mum had when I was younger. Strange how certain small things can stick to your conscious mind for so long.
It's raining, we've got a cinema trip booked for later. With popcorn.
I's in the small stuff, people. Have a good Sunday.
It's been a challenging week around here. One of those weeks that makes you question your ability as a mother. One of those weeks that makes you questions your decisions, your words, your actions.
Nothing major happened. Just boys being boys, children being children. Just a long chain of small incidents that collectively, in one short week aquired the strenght of an hurrican and that have left me drained and breathless and full of self doubt.
It'll be fine. We'll be fine. We are fine, better already.
We welcome the weekend with open arms and a full teapot...
because my new china tea cups are waiting.
Today in between 'incidents' I treated myself to some shallow retail therapy at the local charity shop.
Two small china cups beautifully shaped, delicately painted and...
perfectly balanceable on a gorgeous tower of new books.
'Therapy' at its best.
'T' is for tomatoes (the only ones that survived the wet summer and various bugs)
'T' is for tyding up (my window sill has never looked prettier)
'T' is for typewriter (found for almost nothing in a charity shop - the boys love it)
'T' is for time and trends and teeth and trousers and tank tops (I must have been about 8yrs old... and I was already crafting away.... check out the dodgy needlepoint, it was a chicken and I remember it very well...)
Till next time...
We'd just been to the beach for the day. W ewere hot and slightly sunburned. Our skin felt tight for the salt water and the kids were tired and picking at each other. We wanted to be home.
But then we saw this:
and how could we not stop?
It wasn't cheap but there were bargains if you looked carefully; we seriously considered shipping this 50s baby home
I could have been Doris Day and Mr M could have been Rock Hudson... oh those movies...
Anyway, I did find something though and I was glad to see it worked perfectly
no more knotted skeins on chair backs
no more bribing children with sweets to get them to hold their arms out for hours on end
and most importantly of all, no more procrastinating the next big crochet project
Now if you'll excuse me... I've got work to do...
Last night we had friends over for dinner.
Flowers were bought and displayed,
dough was made
and cut.
And cooked.
And eaten.
And a merry ol' time was had by all.
but feeling a bit frazzled. A bit rough at the edges, a bit spikey, like this tulip.
I can hardly believe that the week is gone without me posting anything but I needed some time away from the computer. Away from... I don't know. Away. There are so many things I'd like to do, so many things I have to do... decisions to take, chores to carry out.
I'm tired.
I have popping into my room for a bit of sanity here and there though.
I've made a medium size tote with this really cool (small) piece of fabric I found in the 'bin' of a local interior decor shop. I'm not too happy about it but can't put my finger on what's wrong with it exactly...
Then I made another tote with the fabric left over from Nr 2's curtain. It's really strong and will make the ideal (if a tad colourful) grocery bag.
And then I HAD TO buy these knitting needles from ebay... 19 pairs, all sorts of sizes and length. For nothing, I paid less than the cost of a new pair... Madness.
So many endless possibilities...
These are my favourites:
This post is as messy and confused as I am at the moment. Bear with me please.
I was nine years old when I first read "Little Women" by Louise May Alcott. I was smitten, and since then I lost count of the times I've re-read it. And the other books in the series too.
It reminds me of those cosy old Sunday movies, the ones with the happy endings, where love always triumphs in the end, where girls wear ribbons in their hair and long swishy skirts, and the men are gentlemen and wear gloves and hats and open doors and ask yo to dance.
In turn I've wanted to be Meg and be domestic and responsible, I've always imagined her in her little house with her Brooke and her children, a kitchen with pretty curtains and a basket full of embroidery near the fireplace.
I've envied Beth's goodness and kindness, and how everybody loved her for this. And I also so wished I was as pretty and sophisticated as Amy, and be able to paint beautifully and travel around Europe visiting museums and walking French parks.
But in the end it was always Jo who captured my imagination. The fire in her soul, her determination, her breaking the conventions of society. There's a rebel in each one of us - or at least we'd like to thing so! We ride and never worry about the fall I guess thats just the cowboy in us all, sings rightly Tim McGraw). And I've always wanted her to marry Laurie (am I alone in this?). Jo - unconsciously - inspired my choices growing up. Leaving home, settling far away from the family and from what was expected to a good Italian, Catholic girl in the 80's.
I don't know why I started collecting copies of this book. I guess I wanted to hold on to the dreams I've always had reading it. I want to feel cosy and worry-free like the 9 year old I once was.
Shouldn't we start wearing Cameos and ribbons in our hair again?
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