Winter churns on...

It's official, I'm in winter hibernation mode.  What is there to do, when the wind is howling, and the rain is sideways, but make a cup of tea, take a good book and go back to bed, where it's warm and cosy. With internet access, almost all my needs were met.

I surfaced for a quick but unimpressive opshop round on Wednesday, but by Thursday I was running out of milk for my tea.

So on Friday, I staggered out to the shops. As well as milk, I stocked up on paper for art prints, ink, and discovered some picture frames on sale.  I have some new fish, including some on charts of King George Sound and Princess Royal Harbour, as well as Kalbarri and the West Coast of Western Australia.

Damage from the storm was limited, and largely fixable with gaffer tape.  By the end of the week I was able to do some work outside, including on the old butter churn (which would look very nice with plants in it). It's ready to go to a new home.

I'm slowly reducing the piles of stuff on the back veranda.  You can see the chairs now.  

I've started on a new group of steampunk sculptures, so the kitchen table is hidden again.  I've been gathering the parts for a while and I'm using some of the bits I brought home from the last roadtrip.  There will be several balloons, some boats, a ship, and there's a land vehicle which is looking like it has potential. I don't often do cars/trains/trucks but this one is incorporating some old brass motorcycle fuel pump bits.

I think I need an angle grinder.  Or perhaps a nice man with an angle grinder and an interest in art, that might be a good thing.

Ho.Ho. Ho.

With the hot carrot-scented breath of a reindeer on the back of my neck, I note that the Big Day is drawing closer, and closer, at speed.

The presents are wrapped and under the tree. Said tree is decorated.  Reindeer are good to go.

The mice are preparing for a quiet one tomorrow night, Christmas eve.  They shall not stir.

I've had a peaceful few weeks between markets, and managed to complete some new models, some of which sold from the kitchen table or shared photos, and didn't even make it to the second market. 
 

I posted some pics on Pinterest and kind people have repinned or liked them.  This is good.  (I'm still just a tad surprised when other people like my work and a teeny bit nervous about going too public with my babies.)

Pinterest itself has communicated with me, as these websites tend to.  They sent me an email, entitled 'Pins you will love'.  Sadly, I did not love them.  I mean, hey, they were quite nice pins in their own rights but I was not thrilled, excited or amazed by them.  Perhaps the email should say 'Pins you might kinda like'.  I've seen other stuff I did -well - love/like a lot/find interesting.  But these were not they.  I guess Pinterest hasn't worked out all of my secrets just yet.  I shall maintain my air of mystery a wee while longer.  Call me Mata Hari.

I have only about 10 days of leave left before I'm forced to return to the pit of despair to continue earning to subsidise my foibles.  When the little dog looks sad as I leave for work, I tell him brusquely that I am working to buy his (upmarket) dog food.  He saves his energy by snoozing, that he may rejoice at my return.  This is as it should be. I'm certainly rejoicing on my return, especially when the longer daylight hours mean that I can garden, or work, or sit and read outside.

All the saleable goods and display items have returned home from their temporary market home and been stashed in their storage spots.  I noticed it took two trips to deliver the goods to market and only one to come home, so it must be a positive outcome. 


This also means that I'm free to play with new ideas and designs for a little while.  I also need to do quite a bit more tidying, stashing and even - gasps from the audience - tossing out/giving away.

The idea has left me quite lightheaded.  I think I'll need a little lay down while I think about it.

Merry Christmas, all.

Shopping in a cold climate - day 1

I've learned a lot this week, starting with that I'm too old to stay awake for 36 hours at a time and still be expected to think.  Damn you, midnight horror flights.  I'd planned to sleep but unfortunately Qantas was showing Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law in the delicious Sherlock Holmes II and that took up the majority of the flight.  Sleep is for the weak, I thought.

The second thing I learned is that the sleep deprived have little resistance to retail spending at 5.45 am in the airport, when you have 3 hours to wait for connecting flight #3.  I found myself seriously thinking about buying Pandora beads, because it was that or eat Hungry Jacks for breakfast.  I wasn't hungry but luckily, neither was I cashed up.  I've done this sort of thing before and I'm well aware of certain...character flaws.  Some would say why bother opening at that ridiculous hour, but I can assure you I was not the only one wandering around stretching my legs and browsing.  I napped on flight #3 over Bass Strait.

After a nice cup of tea with the Sister, we adjourned to the local tip shop for a quick browse.  I intend to make more visits because you can, to a tip shop. We located not one but two new op shops - well, new to me, here. I got some knitting needles (can't really take them on the plane, and I'm on holidays in a cold place - emergency knitting may be necessary) - and a Jo Nesbo book for holiday reading.

After 12 hours reasonable sleep - for me - we mooched to Latrobe, where there were some interesting little shops open.  We spent quite a bit of time in Reliqueware - partly because its possible to just go round and round and keep finding more interesting things.  The dolls and repros aren't really my thing but as sheer display they are fantastic. The handmade things were great. The free fudge on entry was a bonus. 

The pop-up shop of my dreams is vacant, in the main street.

Bolstered by the sugar hit, we surged onward to one of the perennial favourites -the Antique Emporium.  Again, the imports and repros don't do it for me but there are always bargains to be had and the owner, like me, is a fan of the rusty and dusty.   The first thing which jumped into my hand was an Australian Monthly magazine - a kind of girly magazine from 1951 - but how can you not buy a mag with an article entitled 'Scientists explode bomb in woman's brain'?  It did not disappoint.

Two bags of steampunk pocketwatch bits, pocketwatch faces, an antique frame,  - oh the excitement.  On the way out I saw some brilliant cameras and illustrations - I shall return with expendable cash.  The Sister bought a lovely old tin car and a vintage Australiana tin - very nice. 

The bonafide antiques were lovely, of course, and the prices are generally pretty reasonable but unlike some I know I don't want to have to ship furniture from one side of the country to the other. But then I've only been here two days.

Easter, feral bunnies, philosophy and starvation

Is that the sound of an Easter Bunny on the roof?  Or was that reindeer at Xmas?  It's all very confusing.

How does the Easter Bunny keep track of the changing dates of Easter?  Someone, somewhere, says this is the weekend which shall be Easter - do they email this to the Chief Bunny?  Australians don't seem to have fully embraced the bilby as a replacement for the feral Bunny.  It's not really surprising, faltering in the face of the commercial catechisms which include Mother's Day, Father's Day, and Xmas.  Oh, and Australia Day.  But don't get me started on that one.

Far be it from me to cast aspersions on any  festival which venerates chocolate.  As a child, last century ( in fact mid-last-century), the best part of Easter was buying the broken Easter eggs smashed, in bags for GJ Coles and Co - before it was ever a supermarket - afterwards.  I wonder what happens to the excess eggs now?  Put aside for next year?  Snapped up by supermarket employees? I can't believe that  every single egg is sold, even on sale. Where do the eggs go?  There may be a research grant in it.  There was one in working out that people who attach Australian flags to their cars are more jingoistic than those who don't (to quote the philosopher Homer, 'Doh'.)  I said don't get me started on Australia Day.

But these are the bigger questions which must be put aside in the annual panic caused by a temporary closure of supermarkets and shops - seriously, people, you won't starve and you don't have to stock up for the nuclear winter.  And if you choose to go to the supermarket with everyone else, at least have the good grace to be polite.  

I shall use my long, long weekend wisely, as part of my finishing/tidying/sorting/storing regime.  I've been making some new things both inside and out.  So far I've largely excavated the front room, other than the stacks of framed works.  My room is in reasonably good shape, given that when incoming houseguests arrive one tends to stash things in there.  If the weather holds, I'm thinking champagne on the front veranda.  If it doesn't, I've organised and stacked the firewood (in case of emergency) and it will be port and a roast in front of the fire. 

With Easter eggs.  I'm fairly sure we won't starve.

I think I shall call this range 'omnishambles'.

Back from the brink....

Phew - my laptop has only just been restored to health after a little spack attack, and I was offline for 2 weeks.    I felt so alone (not really!) and I got heaps done because I wasn't wasting so much time looking at randomly interesting things.  As a result, of course, there's jewellery festooned over everything, and half completed projects everywhere else.  So now I need to sort it all out, finish and stash it for the Mother's Day market in early May.  

Strangely (for me) I backed up and saved all the artwork a couple of days before - lucky, really, although as it happens I didn't lose anything in the end. 

I also managed to frame a heap of fish drawings and prints, now leaning gratuitously against walls and giving the place an arty look (as long as you don't want to walk anywhere).  There will be new Alices soon, and I'm hoping to have some brand new merchandise too! Watch this space.

A friend and work colleague came back from Melbourne raving about the fabric and patterns from a little shop she found -  I found it on the interweb and thought it is worth sharing, for all those who remember that clothing can be made by hand.  It's called Tessuti, and this is the link to the online shop.  They also have a blog, for inspiration and ideas.  It's the next best thing to being there. One of my vintage dressmakers' models has gone to live with her to help her to bring those patterns to life.

I made some floral shorts for the Girl last week.  She was helping by making cups of tea and making sure I didn't wander off.  One of her little mates called, seeking companionship, to be told that she was making shorts.  The mate called back at five minute intervals to ask if we'd finished yet - finally she came over but the thrill of home fashion creation just couldn't beat the excitement of playing games on the ubiquitous iphone or equivalent. Although she did seem impressed by the finished product, and felt there was enough fabric for her to have some shorts too.

I adapted a pattern from the early nineties, and the Girl was most impressed with the suitcase of patterns held in reserve - just going to show that things go around and come back into style. (It seems like yesterday.)  It's nice to see some decent fabric shops re-appearing, I'm kind of tired of the random rolls of seconds and the warehouse approach, its nice to see new designs while they're still new. 

I'm currently thinking about steampunk inspired 

cuffs and scarves - as soon as I work out which suitcases hold the reserves of vintage lace, fabric, and trims. But first, I should pack some of that jewellery.....and maybe do some housework.

a modicum of self satisfying sulking....

Some weeks, its all good, even the bad bits.  In this case the bad bit was bad, but not in a serious cataclysmic make-a-documentary-out-of-it kind of way.  More a disappointing, 'bugger' sort of bad.  But when the thing that isn't earth-shatteringly bad happens to something that you've been looking forward to for ages, a modicum of self satisfying sulking seems appropriate. There is a lingering air of feeling hard done by.  I am less than gruntled.

The small god of good things has been mostly smiling this week - and not only on me.  Even some friends were doing the happy dance this morning, for various reasons. The flowering-pink-blossom tree is.  The stuff behind it is blue sky.

Some excellent finds from Vinnies this week (although I am beginning to have second thoughts on the tartan skirt - too school uniformy?) were topped of during our Friday round, when I managed 6 nice wine glasses (nice weight and balance, and as a friend remarked, not too small) for a pittance.  A pile of books - see previous posts on that obsession - including a 1925 Sunday School prize with cute drawings of rats.  Apparently Sunday School was different in 1925.


 Some more picture frames for the little fishes, and one for some vintage postcards.  A positive pile of bits of jewellery, chains, crucifixes, rosaries, beads, and other raw materials.  A wooden shelf thingy.  A hat, amazing in its fabulousness.  Teeny vintage glass bottles for secret project #3275 (still to be unveiled).  The basis of 4 new steampunk starships.  A summer linen shirt, pre-ironed. 

Unfortunately, the garage sales were boring, overpriced and unimaginative.  Oh, well, not much money left anyway.

I spent Sunday re-arranging, sorting, tidying (a bit).  I FINALLY finished a small shelf thingy which was made from a lone drawer from the verge last year, and some 'firewood' from the neighbours, delivered yesterday.  Whatever the firewood used to be, it involved a jarrah fame and some french polished panels.  At least some of it got re-used.  I've kept some of the other polished bits too, just in case.    

And I also finished off something with the coral I mentioned a week or so ago - at least now its  protected a bit.  I couldn't help myself with the 60's tin fish.