Taking The Plunge

It's a leap of faith, a career into the unknown, a giant jump off the edge of our comfort, our stability, our financial security.

We're going to renovate our home.

We've engaged a team of designers and have briefed and chatted, floated ideas and coerced concepts, bent rules, twisted thought processes and baulked at boring.  We're really going to do it!

When I ask myself what was the catalyst, it was finding the right team to help us.  It's early days, I know, but so far they've fit the bill perfectly and have a keen understanding of all our once-secret hopes and desires for the home we love and are listening carefully to the home we want to love into the future.  A friend once said "just make your home what you want it to be" - good advice, we're doing just that.

It's definitely time.  My eldest son can regularly be found camped on my bed, next to my bedside table , using my reading lamp as his younger brother is "playing music too loud" in their room.  He can't wait to have a room of his own, he says.

But whilst we are determined to keep it modest - not overstretch either our imaginations or our budget, already I can see that it's impossible to avoid both.  It's like a "simple wedding", a "small gathering for my 40th birthday", an "innocent visit" into Emilio Pucci - we just don't seem to do things half-heartedly once we decide to do them, finally.

And what's the point in cutting corners anyway?  We've lived here for 12 years without doing a thing to the house so let's go the whole hog, huh?  Let's stretch the budget, the imagination and the relationship!  Let's throw it all on the line.  Let's make the grass green on our side of the fence.

Oh, did I mention our backyard will be cut in half?!

"A little sea-bathing would set me up forever."

The sea is a powerful thing.  It gives us all joy and solace in different ways.

Today one of us dives straight in, to splash and play in the waves; another dons goggles and begins an odyssey around the cove - searching and exploring the sea life.  Yet another eases himself in and moves gradually with the waves, slowly becoming one with the life of the ocean, his body adrift, gently swaying in amongst the seaweed.  Still others are content to sit under a shady tree and observe.

I begin to comb the beach for shells.  Something about their shapes, their strength, their gentle colours and textures, gives me comfort.  As does sinking my feet into the sand - problems seep into it's grains and my cares are eroded away, escaping between my toes.

Today it's a certain kind of shell I'm after.  Spotted years ago on the same beach, I remember it's shape fondly and begin to sift the surface of the sand with my eyes - alert only to its shape, its texture, its smooth white arc catching in the afternoon sunlight.  Before long, it's delicate fronds fill my hand and they jingle together like pennies in a purse - the sea's own currency on offer for those who care for such treasures.  Jewels created by the sea itself - time rolling by and tumbling endlessly to leave just the backbone of what was once the home of a faceless creature.

I discover ample pockets to bring home my treasures - carefully carrying my spoils to their new home, where their beauty can be appreciated daily.

The sea is a gentle thing.


Title by Jane Austen, from Pride and Prejudice

No Scrooge here for Christmas

Yes, it's beginning to look alot like Christmas around here. 

We put the tree up (the kids do the tree by themselves now!!) and all the decorations at the beginning of December in time for our annual Christmas party, usually in the first week. It's the best thing we ever did, as not only do we clean THE ENTIRE HOUSE, it gives us a deadline for all the things we've been meaning to plant/fix/get rid of... and have our home looking its best, even for just one day as we make merry with all of our nearest and dearest friends and family. 

As our kids and their friends get older, we were concerned that they're getting too old for the obligatory chill session where late in the day they squeeze together on the sofa for a movie. After talking it over we decided to give over to the screen thing and make their bedroom a den with cushions and lots of rugs and comfy spaces to sit and play on hand held games, with optmistic hopes of cards and board games thrown into the mix. This worked beautifully at times throughout the day, but we were surprised and delighted to find them all crammed on to the sofa around the same time as in years gone by, watching kids movies - enjoying it as much as they ever did!

Some things change, some stay the same.

Our Christmas Party sets the scene for us to embark on the ridiculousness of Christmas - paves the way for the shopping, the cooking, the wrapping, the visiting, the end of year parties, concerts and presentations.  It's crazy, isn't it??

What I do love doing is singing carols at my sister's Christmas party that follows later in the month.  Our family is not one of tuneful singers, to say the least, but in recent years we have derived much joy from warbling up the back of her lounge room, crowded with neighbours and friends, some clutching instruments, some humming shyly, some belting out Good King Wenceslas for all they're worth.  It gives such a feeling of joy and release to be singing - no matter how many times and how many elevator renditions we have heard by now, nor it seems, how bad we sound!

I love it really - it's exhausting but great - a constant, progressive party if you like - whereas my husband is not so fond!  Having said that, Mr Bah Humbug insists we sit and watch Christmas movies early on the morning of his first day of holidays - usually "It's a Wonderful Life" with James Stewart, and/or "A Christmas Carol" with Alastair Sim. 

They are such lovely movies and really come back to the spirit of Christmas and the goodwill it brings - a real chance to mend breaks, boost relationship investment and take stock of all that is good in our lives.

Our motivation is renewed for the last push to get through the final stages of packing and cooking and wrapping before we set off to the weekender where the whole extended family gathers for Christmas Day. 

Emails are sent, menus are organised, beds are allocated and the boat is fuelled up for the many trips it makes from cars to house with all the trimmings and trappings needed.

However, it's only when he's up the hill, on the deck, bags unpacked, presents under the tree and food in the fridge Mr will relax entirely, as do we all.

What are your plans for Christmas and the holidays?  I hope it's a merry time for you too.

Vanishing Vintage, or "Oh what a mess, Mr Hart!"

OK, so I'm sitting on the sofa late at night, watching Real Estate TV.  I need a snack.  Get up in the ad break to raid the fridge and when I open the door it gives a shudder and stops working.  My first thought is "well that's typical, we had our first look at a Sub-Zero (as if!) last weekend and this grand old dame has literally paled in significance - she's finally carked it!"  But no, I'd just knocked out the plug whilst I was cleaning today (another story, don't ask!!).

I have to move the kids' homework desk next to it to reach the cord. I start to move things off the top of the desk so I can slide it..... 1, 2, 3, 4 things... It hits me when I'm moving my Snoopy money box: "Oh no!  I'm the lady in the home show!" (The one they're talking about behind their hands to camera because she's got SO MUCH STUFF crammed in to her house and no-one wants to buy it.)




Fridge whirrs to life and I'm moving things back thinking, "If that guy came into my house with a camera it'd be the same show (only less pink...)."

It's Time To De-Clutter.  Now.

I know I've got lots of stuff.  It's vintage, it's quirky, it's collectable.  But let's face it, I'm a hoarder.  Hey, it's my house - we're not selling, we're renovating, but it's all got to go into boxes and I'm thinking I may not want to get it all out again when our house is new and groovy.

This is like a line in the sand.  This is like weight loss.  Shed a little every week and by the time we need to move out for the build, we'll be meaner, leaner and cleaner.  But I might need some help from bloggers who have gone before me...

I've got good stuff.  You just can't see it under all the... other stuff.

ps. Does Snoopy stay or go?!

Picture from the late Pro Hart's Stainmaster Carpet TV ad

Weekender

Our weekender, bought in 1962 by my Mum and Dad with what should have been the deposit on their first family home, is a place by the river that has delighted us all for years in so many different ways - a retreat, an entertaining space, a holiday resort, a place of remembrance. 

As soon as I hit the water (the house is only accessible by boat), my mind begins to yield its knots and ties and my troubles are literally offloaded in our wake.  The landscape is true Australia, the wildlife carries on around us and here I am my true self.

These days having a holiday house brings so much expectation in terms of lifestyle and all the trappings thereof.  For my family and me though, it's so much more than that.....

A visit is not complete without a dip in the river.

The fire sees us visiting all through the year - toasting marshmallows and baking rice puddings.

The boys all cook - released from the daily grind, they find solace in the art of slow cooking and are rewarded for their efforts by a hungry mob who fall upon each offering.

Off the grid - far from the maddening crowd (never was this more necessary) and into a world of quiet contemplation, of cards, scrabble and comics.

• family
• chats
• gardening
• the mosaic art of building a rock wall

Woken by wildlife each morning, we stagger to bed each night with love and humour under our belts

• the time to take tea... again and again...
• simple pleasures of an orange cake - a beloved recipe
• planning our next visit
• planning additions
• planning to do nothing
• cousins
• granny rugs
• heirloom furniture - all shabby!

These are our fondest memories.  We now have the privilege of watching our children live the experiences of our own childhood.

This is a safe place.

On the Road.... again!

I love a good caravan.  There's one driving around our neighbourhood that's the mobile performance venue of a Gypsy Music group and it gets parked randomly around town Lolo The Gypsy Caravan Stage - I get a kick out of it's carefully placed bright red spots every time I come across it:

Our family used to go on caravaning holidays when we were kids.  I suppose it was cheaper than putting up 4 kids in motels all the way to Brisbane or Melbourne and back, visiting family for weeks at a time.... and more fun!  I remember "bagsing" beds in excitement when the van first pulled up in the cul de sac out the front of our house, Mum taking a whole day to pack the clothes, food, toys and lives of 6 people inside, ready for our big adventure.

We'd stop at roadside parks, pull up in country parks, overnight in caravan parks along the way, Mum preparing our meals from the cute little kitchen (pumping the water - such fun, we thought!).  Now that I'm a Mum I can appreciate just how much work it was - all that packing, moving and pumping...

Isn't it the journey that counts?  The road along the way - who doesn't still talk about fighting on the back seat with siblings?!   Playing "Ping!" counting white horses, I Spy! and the alphabet sign game.

We play all these games in the car with our own kids now - still such good family fun to pass the time (although on a recent trip to Adelaide, Stephen Fry got us across the State with his reading of Harry Potter books - love that man!).  We take a bit of Spike Jones for laughs, we all contribute to the music selection and occasionally just chat and look out the window.  So relaxing!

Is it simply like how washing up someone else's dishes is always more fun than doing your own?  Does a mini mobile kitchen give more appeal than the real thing, simply because of it's novelty?  Same as camping - lots of planning to keep things simple, but doesn't it pay off?

We're still just a family hanging out together but it seems more fun on the road, with a different backdrop every day and new horizons each morning....

Do you love a road trip?  Have you got or used a caravan for a trip away?


Photos via Design Sponge

A Stitch in Time

Something goes on at my place every Tuesday - we call it Stitch and Bitch.  It's a meeting of minds and bodies, hands and hearts, to share, catch up, support and sew (well, mostly we eat cake...).  Lots of tea is consumed, lots of laughs are had, lots of problems are solved, plans hatched...

We love an excuse for a proper Tea Party - Melbourne Cup (champagne and hats), one of us leaving for a Parisian holiday (eclairs and berets), a new baby due (pink frocks, pink plates, pink cakes - she's a girl!).  Whatever productivity we lack in terms of thread in cloth, we more than make up for as the threads of friendship are woven together, reinforced and overlocked as strong and colourful as any tapestry you can name. 

My oldest son is coming up to twelve, so for almost as long, what started as a Mothers Group has burgeoned into an institution that not one of us would be without.  Lives have changed, houses have been bought and sold, kids have grown up, moved schools, but we remain a group of women who are alike and unalike, similar and different - all having something to give and something to take away.

It's school holidays now so we generally have a break (alas, my house no longer fits all the growing bodies of our children!) or we all meet together in a local park one Tuesday during the holidays for a good run around and a picnic.

Many of us have returned to work and can no longer come on Tuesdays - some make the odd cameo appearance when rosters permit, but we none of us are prepared to give up our little group entirely.  Kids and spouses all know the drill - Tuesdays are sacred, even if just for a few stolen hours.  For my part, I value the support and wisdom of my fellow Stitchettes enormously - seek their guidance, their input, cherish their style, their sense, their sewing ability...!

Speaking of, I recently indulged in a spot of online retail therapy here and am itching to start my next project (above) after the holidays.  It's been a while between cups of tea, but I think I can still remember how to cross stitch....  Wish me luck!

To Plunge or Percolate...

Can we really be bothered to renovate?  Or should we buy that other old house in the next street that actually, really is next to the train tracks??  It's bigger.  It's just as falling-down as ours is.  Well, not that I've been inside and not that I know for sure if ours is sliding down the hill (I'm just assuming, since all balls roll into the same corner behind the TV).

How do you make the decision to move or renovate?  How do you take that plunge?  What's the catalyst?  How many times do you talk yourself into love with another person's home before it really does become yours (and all the problems they didn't tell you about)?

I love our home.  I love it's old leaking roof, it's rotten weatherboards, it's wonky ceilings, it's jammed windows and 100 years of DIY dodginess.  I love that I can't put anything new into it's rooms without it shrieking loud and clear against knocked-about walls and cornices.  I love how it forgives all my decorating faux pas and rejoices in my successes.  It loves me back too - fits us all in, stands still whilst we paint it, breathes in while we hammer stuff into it's armpits, turns a blind eye when we don't bother with a second coat...

But there's only so much love a 2 bedroom weatherboard with a postage stamp garden and small back deck can give a family of four.  We squeeze over 50 people in here every Christmas and though it never complains, it's a big effort all round!  Those 2 boys can't always share a room, can they?  Pretty soon they'll look like the guy in the Dr Seuss book whose feet hang out one end, or head out the other. 

Maybe I'll just percolate the idea some more.....

Or did I dream it.....?

It's been a long while and lots has happened, and nothing really - that's life, isn't it?  This bench seat, for a start, is a project so long completed it's almost time to re-recover (note to self, water/stain resistant fabric required for outdoor furniture). 

The colour was the driving force behind the decision to use that fabric (and the fact that it was already the perfect size so no excuse to procrastinate further) so I could be forgiven for thinking it would last in its pristine state.  It still looks great though and has brought to life our "outdoor room" in a way nothing else has.  Having a comfy seat at the outdoor table is so much more inviting than the hard outdoor chairs and we've all been spending more time out on the deck as a result.

The other addition is this chandelier (featured here with Moore & Moore Wallpaper). 

Whilst my outdoor space is nowhere near as divine as this setting, I just love the difference candlelight makes to an evening of entertaining - we all like a little ambience, don't we?  Save for the pathetic Sydney summer we're (not) enjoying - too cold and/or rainy to sit outside much, day or night.  So sadly the chandelier hasn't had a chance to come into it's own.  Although a friend (who spent an evening with us, juggling plastic cups to protect our precious flames from wind) found this idea...

Here, and I thought that could work. I'm now on the lookout for jam jars - though a warm, still summer evening would be preferable...

The Great Outdoors

We had a wonderful weekend.  Looking over at Absolutely Beautiful Things I see we're not the only ones enjoying the beginnings of warmer weather.  A soccer presentation got us all out of the house nice and early and applying some serious sunscreen to stand on the oval waiting for formalities and trophies.  Luckily the sprinklers were running on the grounds so the kids all went for a run through to cool down afterwards.

Home again to do some more work on my project - very exciting!  I'm refreshing a bench seat we've had on our back deck for several years.  I've recovered it before and last year threw a temporary rug over it to hide the worn out cover but now I'm doing the real thing.... here's the "Before":


 Here's the inspiration for the new colour scheme (remember the little bowl from Bison?).  I found the fabric in my sewing box - no idea where it came from... perhaps someone will recognise it?!

So, a bit of a sand and tidy up and the undercoat is already an improvement:

I've chosen a lovely paint colour - Dulux "Adrift" which is quite fitting for my state of mind at the moment.  Watch this space...

So, a resting husband, happy kids doing house swaps back and forward all day with friends and me out the back with a paintbrush.  Still managed to put a meal on the table and all sit down together to enjoy - now, that never happens... just who is that woman?  She's not around here very often!

Hope you had a good weekend too.

Blogs I have loved...

It's so long since I blogged I forgot my password.  But that's not saying much - I'm always forgetting passwords.


There are so many blogs I follow and people I feel I relate to, mostly written by creative-type women, often mothers.  I feel I have this secret community all to myself.  But I don't contribute... why is that?


I think most bloggers consider their blogs something of a journal, a note to self on what's currently going on in their life, a way of both sharing and remembering, throwing a line out to see if anyone bites.  Like me, many are Mums who do a thousand other things and perhaps also like me, sitting in quiet contemplation in the evenings, or day times, or wee hours, is a way to relax and recharge; filter the days happenings and renew oneself by seeking inspiration elsewhere.


I love this piece on Life in a Pink Fibro about growth - our selves and our lives, acknowledging the passing of time. We're not unlike our own Mums, are we?  It may look different on the surface but we all have our support groups, filled with likeminded women who share similar lifestyles and dreams, reflections and challenges.  We may not have on a frilly apron, but when we share our lives the sentiment is the same.

Anticipation

I've just bought a new book.  It happened by accident.  We were shopping for other people's birthday presents, which is of course the best time to buy an unbirthday present for oneself - inevitably finding the ideal gift for... me!

Emily Chalmers has been a favourite for some time.  An innovator of the Vintage aesthetic, Chalmers' styling, her books, her sense of vintage style are all influential and inspirational for me.  Stumbling across her latest offering has me in flutters of excitement but I can't sit down to devour it just yet - lots to do before I can steal some time so I just put it aside and look where it landed: on my Grandmother's sewing table, next to a vintage doily topped by one of my actual birthday gifts - a gorgeous and perfectly formed bowl from Bison - now how's that for modern vintage?!

Loft Beds

There's something about a loft bed.  These beds over at Inspirations Deco made me think of a pair that took my breath away some years ago.  It was a secret loft for Mr's nephew in a beach house built by his sister and her husband.  Bits and pieces literally fallen off the back of trucks cobbled together to make a sublime little getaway on the north eastern coast of New Zealand's North Island.  Inside, within the roof space, a little pair of beds had been created by mattresses on the floor with a mini chest of drawers in between, where the kids would bunk down at night, high above the adults enjoying their nightcap on the deck.  Reclaimed windows swung out to let in an evening sea breeze and it was easy for all to forget there were children present - just the way the kids liked it!  A chunky, handmade ladder was fixed to the wall so only game grownups would even attempt to gain access to their little haven by scrambling up into the eaves.

I have lovely memories of that Batch on the beach, just a little shack really but filled with love and holiday souvenirs of shells, second hand sofas and cordial.  All you need at the beach!

The Special K Theory

I suppose I should come clean... I'm a procrastinator.  If something's worth doing, it's worth thinking about for an extra day or so to ensure you get it right, just in case you can improve on it. 

Or is it The Special K Theory we're dealing with here?

A very dear friend and housemate many years ago stumbled across The Special K Theory quite by accident when we were discussing breakfast - it transpired that Special K was my favourite breakfast cereal, but my way of thinking was that I didn't want to eat it every morning, in case I got sick of it, and then it wouldn't be my favourite any more.  Her perspective was simply, "Eat it until you get sick of it, then find a new favourite".

Simple, yes, but I realised it's just not the way I think.  The merit of my way of thinking is I can enjoy things in small doses for prolonged periods - savouring special clothes, jewellery, trinkets, then carefully folding them back into storage to be taken out and enjoyed occasionally, knowing they'll always be there to enjoy.  Once recognised, The Special K Theory can be applied to many areas of my life, my behaviours.

But why prolong joy?  Why ration yourself to the bare minimum and save things "only for best", or "for special occasions" when they can be enjoyed every day?  It's only stuff afterall.  I can find a new cereal - they bring out a new one every couple of weeks, and if not, Special K's been around for over 50 years - it'll still be there to rediscover again and again.

Is it about being satisfied with what we have, rather than always searcing for something new?  I'd so often rather reinvent something I own - be it furniture, clothing, a recipe, than go out and buy another one to clutter up my life.  Perhaps that's why I have a penchant for things that are preloved - someone else has enjoyed them {and paid full price for them} and all I have to do is reinvent them, rediscover their beauty and celebrate them once again.  If I get bored with them, they don't owe me anything...

Do I feel that buying new is the easy way out?  Anyone can do that.  I want to be different, distinct, discover something for myself.

Meanwhile, it's taken me 3 days to actually post this blog - it wasn't right the first time so I filed it away to revisit later.....

It's only water...

It's funny how people forget to take umbrellas out with them - even when they leave home in the rain, we just dash here and dash there to avoid the drops (I heard of a study done to measure whether you get less wet by running through rain... you don't).  All you have to do is pull on a pair of gumboots, pick up a groovy umbrella and celebrate the rain that falls around you - it's only water afterall and it dries... really!

I got these pink Hunter wellies 2 years ago in New York.  It was November and cold and wet, but it was New York, so it was OK.  After agonising over the colour (and the fact that it never really rains in Sydney so how can I justify gumboots?), we bought them and they joined us in a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge and the subsequent nourishment of shoestring fries at the Heights Cafe - the winning recommendation of a dear friend.  The boots didn't see daylight again until we returned to our own hemisphere but it's amazing how much it does rain once you're of a mind to enjoy it - to savour, rather than scorn weather is much more pleasant.

It's my birthday so why should a little rain dampen my spirits?  I walked to work with my umbrella and returned to an unexpected pile of presents on my bed!  Love a spontaneous shopping trip to make up for lost time - and in secret!  Will share the spoils in a later post but for now, as the man says, "Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain..."

Away, away, away

What an amazing country Australia is.  A weekend camping trip can take you so far from your own consciousness into the unexpected that you begin to wonder at everything you know.

I took these photos of the incredible sand dunes at Dark Point, a jewel found almost by chance on the NSW mid north coast in an endeavour to take a beach swim.  We were overawed by the size and beauty of the dunes with their bleached white sand and rolling, rolling enormity.  If the walk to the coast was long and strenuous (say nothing of the return trek in 40 degree heat!), the prize was breathtaking.



The Task Ahead



 


The Reward - and all to ourselves!

 



We camped at the beautiful Boomeri campground, looked after by National Parks and graced by stunning specimens of Angophora gums and Xanthorrhoea grass trees (Boomeri is the Aboriginal word for these amazing trees).

Nature is indeed raw and real.

Speaking of raw and real, I couldn't resist this beautiful moment in food - the "before" picture of what eventuated as some pretty gourmet burgers - in the bush!



The friend who saw us grow

For my first entry I thought I'd write as if I've been blogging for some time, as I have mentally made entries to this blog for months before actually getting to this stage.  I have been updating the wallpaper on my phone regularly as if it's my blog so perhaps I've been in training!  The ultimate trigger was this entry over at Beach Vintage which was so similar to my current wallpaper I took it as a sign and dove headlong into blogging at last. 

This was my breakfast too - enjoying the fruits of the season and passionfruit always sings summer to my tastebuds.

I hope you find my blog stimulating on some level, as I plan to.  Now, if I can just get my phone to talk to my computer, there will be images...!