Just Like Picasso (With a Significant Difference, or Two)

I have always been a fan of a duck-egg hue but things have stepped up and now, just like Picasso, I’m going through my very own official Blue Period. I only want to ‘make’ in shades of blue and blue-green – just like Pablo. Sorry about that, my old friend Red.

Six weeks of Complete Fail Cardigan knitting has been frogged and morphed into a light, drapey, cottony, spring-ish, (blue) shawl thing.



I’m still not sure if I’ve been knitting for my nearly-ninety Granny, or for me. My Granny is a bit hip (and her hips are sprightly) and I’m concerned shawls are a bit ‘old hat’, in her book. If the shawl thing is staying in my own wardrobe, then I have four days to craft some 90th birthday brilliance. GAH!!! HELP!!! cue: desperate plea for ideas(???)

The shawl, by the way, was a joy to knit. There’s some fancy-pants lace business, punctuated by lots of garter stitch and it’s a pattern that is entirely memorable and do-able – even with kids jumping all over you.



Less kid-jumping-all-over-you friendly, is the Simplicity Cardigan that I am now knitting in a positively irresistable, fragile-feeling, (blue) Tosh Lace 2ply.



Hey, look, I’m crafting a wispy, (blue) cloud...



After all the knittery involved in the crafting of an entire 2ply cardigan, I will be an emphatically Weeping Woman if it’s another of the Complete Fail kind.

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PS. There has been household heated debate. The shawl is DEFINITELY blue. NOT greenish. Picasso didn’t have a Greenish Period.

Pettine Shawl details here.

Plus (Another) One

I kept it under my hat, when I posted on my first cross quilt, mostly because I couldn’t quite believe how uncharacteristically EFFICIENT and ON TIME and FORWARD THINKING, I was being.



This, the Plus (Another) One cot quilt, is a little different from the first +1 quilt and a gift for a new addition who hasn’t even arrived yet. In a while, I’m going to call my ridiculously-glamourous-while-ridiculously-pregnant friend, who is never at home and make wild assumptions if she doesn’t answer the phone. I shall keep these wild assumptions to myself and NOT try her mobile number, because I remember how wildly irritating it can be, when everyone is waiting for a baby and barracking from the sidelines.

My Small did her very, very best to glamourously model the Plus (Another) One quilt.



She was truly, very tenacious.



Before growing frustrated and demanding to know of her vertically-challenged mother, when she would grow TALL?



Her mother with the not-at-all-tall genes, lovingly, snugly, wrapped her not-that-tall-either child, (because ‘lovingly’, ‘snugly’, is what handcrafted quilts are best for) and gave her a giganormous hug.



Then we let the fence do the modelling.

The Patter of Tiny Feet

Five newborns! Three hundred and forty-two, (give or take), to go!



It’s all trés excitement, pacing-of-the-floorboards in these parts! The leafy stick insect eggs have begun to hatch! The Middle is wearing pride in his goofy grin – just as any new dad would! The unpopular Carnivorous Fish is looking uncomfy, housed as he is, in a tank suited to an extensive family of sticks!



Phew.

(That was a lot of exclamation).

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PS. As much as I adore leafy stick insects, even I could not co-exist with three hundred and forty-seven (give or take) of the critters. Assuming further expansion and survival and so on, we shall be drawing up adoption papers and interviewing parental candidates. Dear Mama Sticks, I hope you, (or at least your souls), are perched on a juicy gum leaf, swaying in a light breeze, nodding approval from above.

PPS. Just to be conclusively definitive about things, I am not pregnant.

Floozy

Today, I’m off being a blogger floozy and wittering on about stitchery and fly screens and stuff, over at WhipUp.

PS. I can’t tell you how much I dig working floozy into a blog post title, even though I am forced to admit that this image of a fly screen looks nothing like a floozy’s fishnet stockings. (Best squint a bit).

Been Camping...

Straight up, I’ll admit I took my hot water bottle, (which was consolation for one of us) after I forgot the coffee-gizmo-maker-thing.

Contrary to the image above, we were mighty lucky with the weather. When it did arrive, it arrived with emphasis. But only long enough to create an authentic (damp) camping experience. Three hours later, the kidlets were asleep and the Mr and I, out by the campfire, reading by moonlight and head torch.

It’s years since I’ve experienced the Grampians and we all loved it. The campsite nigh on deserted, our kids rambled and explored and turned into Wild Things and for five days no one insisted on any kid showering policy.



Between us, we spotted three deer, one echidna, two bearded dragons, a bazillion skinks and a zillion beetles, some suspected Wedge Tail Eagles and a few (fleetingly) collectable worms.



We hung out with the local emus, cockatoos and kookaburras and the kids constructed their very own camouflaged ‘hides’, in order to spy on kangaroos unobserved.



Those roos must see it all.



The Spring wildflowers were glorious.



The dancing ‘flowy’ and ‘fairy’.



Warming fires a constant.



The food simple and delicious



and SELF COOK!!!



The frisbee forgotten with the coffee-gizmo-maker-thing, I found a lid.



I tell you, that lid works a treat.



(now packed permanently with the tent).

We checked out a couple of waterfalls.



We took a wrong turn.

We stumbled across a giant, morose, (scary), koala.



Elly, my dear Dutch friend, my co-explorer of Australia’s east coast and fellow-discoverer of over-sized Aussie icons, these pics are for YOU.



(We think wildlife park entry is via the koala’s bottom).

Now we’re back and bathed and sweet-smelling and mostly unpacked and ready-ish for the new school term, tomorrow.

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PS. HELLO to fellow camper, Katy from Sydney, who introduced herself after recognising me via knitwear blog posts(!).

PPS. Spot the stag...