Every night in my dreams.... Day 2: Blogtoberfest

OK, OK, I know it's technically cheating but 2 posts in one day is making top for not starting yesterday!

We have a Titanic obsession going down in Chez Williams at present. We watched the movie yesterday (heavily edited by me with the remote, fast forwarding all horrible or slightly sexy bits). 

Here is what was made while mummy slumbered in bed ('til 9.30 - result!)

 The Band Aid packet is the iceberg, in case that needed explanation! I tried to encourage a slightly longer ship, but was told that the propellers were already attached therefore, impossible. They are now making a poster to adorn their walls.

And Mr Sun is trying to shine today! Happy Day!

Blogtoberfest, Day 1- a series of confessions!

First of all, I'm a day late starting Blogtoberfest as it is indeed the 2nd of October today. I looked at entering last night, but hate blogging from the iPad, and although the movie I was watching was average at best (Tomorrow, When the War Began) I couldn't be arsed getting up and going to "the pit of despair".

Which brings me to my second confession.

 This is the worst half of the pit of despair - the sewing part. The office part is pretty messy too, but this is the reason I am not motivated to sew at the mo'.

 It really beggars belief! There is crap everywhere.

I am resolved to spending a good part of my day trying to get this beast into some semblance of order.

Remembering 9/11

We got a text message from one of Jason's work colleagues to say, "Turn on the television, CNN". It was just before 9pm. We were living in Kuching, a small city on the island of Borneo.

Before us unfolded something that looked other worldly. A smoking skyscraper, with oft-repeated footage of a plane flying into it, live on our screen. We sat, transfixed as we saw, to our horror, another plane fly into the next tower, live on our screens. Now, we realized, it couldn't have been an accident.

We lived in a large 19 floor hotel with apartments on the top ten floors. I remember thinking, "What if a plane flies into this building next?" Seems a bizarre thought now.

I'm pretty sure I spent the next three days glued to that television set. I wept when I saw the people jumping out of the towers, and when those same towers collapsed but when I saw the people holding up pictures of their lost loved ones, I wept the most, as they stood there bereft, amongst the smoke, dust and tiny pieces of paper.

RIP

The Birds

I was beetling about on the computer this arvo, listening half heartedly to the building going on in the units behind us. Heard a couple of funny noises, though I'd go for an inspection...

Cheeky bugger had flown into the house. I cowered, held my hands over my head hoping there would not be any Alfred Hitchcock moments..

Then, after a couple of fly overs, he flew out the sliding door. Hallelujah!

Thank God he didn't poo. I'll tell you what though...I nigh on shat myself! (substitute nigh on for nearly, just in case you were thinking otherwise!)

Fantastic Tan

No, not talkin' about some spray on thingummy. Talkin' 'bout "The Tan".

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Melbourne, "The Tan" is the quintessentially Aussie style nickname for The Botanical Gardens. It has a 5km walking/running/cycle track around it that is well used, to say the least.

Helpful that you're walking by beautiful gardens and the Yarra river. Plus there's a great cafe, a children's garden and a beautiful walk through to please the doutiest anti-gardener.

We went to a fabulous production by the Australian Shakespeare Company of Wind in the Willows by the lakeside there at the end of summer. Had a ball. We all ran around like banshees as part of the production and they even utilized the lake as part of it all. Sensational.

We oft go to the children's garden in the warmer holidays as they have a little trickily stream running through it and the kids wear their bathers and splash around for hours.

Went for a walk there yesterday with my three amigos. Much hilarity echoed thorough the foliage.

Rainbows and Poppies

Bought this little book 200 Crochet Blocks by Jan Eaton from Spotlight the other day because...(whispers)...I'm not really enjoying my Granny Squares crochet class. The ladies and the teacher are very nice but it's too much about how to hold the hook and not enough just get in there and do it) 

Just to let you know, When I did that link to the bookstore I discovered it was more than twice the price at Spotlight! Ripped off! Hate that.

I've made a few out of it already. Great, clear instructions. Lovin' the book.

Fruits of my labors. I'm into Poppy mode at the moment, hence the color scheme and the flower blocks. 

My husband can't seem to get his head around the fact that I'm crocheting blankets like his great grandmother used to do. Watch less sport then, buddy.

Here's the one I'm doing at the moment. Tres fiddly, but good for working on when not wanting to watch that bloody awful Underbelly Razor (too much blood and violence for me, oh yes, indeed!) as I can't take my eyes of the wool!

And here is my Freeform scarf so far. Looks like a bit of a dog's breakfast in attractive co-ordinating colours. It's a bit nicer in real life and I love working on it, so if I don't like it when it's finished, I'll just gift it to some artsy type I know that will appreciate it!

 (don't worry, Tori, it won't be you)

When Irish Eyes are Smiling.

Seven years ago today at Holles Street Maternity hospital in Dublin, Ireland, we became parents for the first time.

It was love at first sight. I lay beside him that first night, gazing at him through my mild morphine haze, not quite believing how beautiful and tiny he was, texting long poetic messages to Jas about him, that he kept on his phone for ages.

He's growing up to be a kind and beautiful, bubbly and animated boy with an enthusiasm for life and a ready smile. He loves science - he got a telescope, spy gear,vehicle building and crystal growing sets this morning, plus a Pooh bear soft toy from his little brother. He loves his soft toys, does Dom. He lost Pooh a few months back and now he has another. 

So Happy 7th birthday, my little Irish Kiwi (he insists on supporting the Irish over the All Blacks in rugby, much to his father's dismay!) You make us smile and laugh every day with your never-ending questions and scenarios. You love a good cuddle. You're a fantastic reader. You're kind and generous, and love being with people.

Lá breithe sona, mo prionsa beag.