Gentlewoman, vintage caravans and a Full Scorpio Moon

Hello, I've been blogging on my writing Blog which you can find HERE but have been missing my personal blog lately so here's a post of a few things that have been inspiring me recently.

The Gentlewoman. I do love this magazine for its title and cover and the contents are most interesting as well. Have you seen this one?

Vintage Caravans have been taking up my thoughts. I long to live in the country and write in a beauty like one of these.

My daughter Daisy has also been inspiring me for her computer know-how. I had no idea that at six she is capable of uploading the internet, googling DISNEYLAND and having a good browse around YouTube for videos on Disneyland whilst my back was turned. I, of course am totally pants with technology. The collage above is of Daisy meeting her father for lunch in the city when she went to visit her naturopath last week. Daisy has a gallstone which we are trying to treat naturally as well as medically.

I am loving the cold snap that has hit Sydney and there is a wonderful Full Scorpio Moon on her way.

Have a lovely week and stay creative. xx
green vintage caravan from happylovesrosie
quote from weheartit
pearl lowe's vintage caravan source

Chit-chat Wednesday and Celebrate the Light

Hello,

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas/Summer/Winter Solstice season wherever you are in the world. I believe life should be celebrated and I love ritual. And so this time of year never fails to make me happy. I have the Summer Solstice and then following close behind Christmas. On the Summer Solstice I decorated my backyard with candles and shells to cast my wishes and secrets to the universe. And at Christmas, I shall be watching as my daughter perform as an angel in the Christmas Mass.

I've listened to far more runs of the Chipmunks singing Jingle Bells than any sane person should, but I still love this crazy season. Here's a selection of some of my favourite Christmas albums below. I love seeing The Wishing Tree in our local shopping centre heaped with gifts for those less fortunate and my daughter's joy in selecting a Barbie doll for a little girl to place under the tree.

The harvest is stored. The light is returning.


I have a fridge stocked with essentials such as Tasmanian cheeses, figs, French Champagne, and nostalgic treats such as Milk Tray and good old frozen chocolate Bavarian. The latter treats are essential as they always make me remember my old Nanny.  We have queued for three hours to see Santa at David Jones but the end shot was worth the wait. And the window display is always a joy to witness.

We  made a Christmas pudding and chutney. Once again, the amazing Jamie Oliver has got me through with his organised approach to Christmas. This DVD is highly recommended.

Family, friends, feasting and celebration of new life - it's a glorious time of year. The air feels sprinkled with pixie magic dust.
Merry Christmas to you. Celebrate life, light, family, and home. And in the eloquent words of Charles Dickens:
'I have always thought of Christmastime, when it has come around - apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave."

From A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

vintage christmas images via google image search

Fabbo Friday and Fab Fairytales and Minnie

Hello,
All week I've been excited and happy about my agent liking my Poets Cottage MS and setting the ball rolling quickly as she has done. The dreary grey skies over Sydney have been replaced by patches of sunshine. My daughter is well enough to return to school.
I read a book filled with patches of blue, yellow and exotic colour recently for my bookclub (The Magic Hat Bookclub). If you like Mexican art, Frida Kahlo, and words that shake and shimmer with poetry and sly flashes of mysterious beauty then I highly recommend it. Funnily enough I was the only one of the Magic Hatters who loved it to bits. It's a terrific read and the main character, Harrison Shepherd, is a guy I really loved and related to. Reviewers disliked him for his self-effacing, introverted writerly ways but I loved and got him totally. And so The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver is my fab book choice for this week.
My fab and favourite Blog posts of the week – again, far too many to pick easily but I did love two fairytale cottages that went around the Blogs.
The very stylish Marie Nichols, a talented stylist from the UK currently residing in Sydney, featured this beautiful fairytale cottage on her Blog wholelottalovely. To me it looks like Rachel Ashwell and Princess Aurora are sharing the space.
The other house is my daughter's favourite and I have to admit, I love it too. It looks as if it was designed by my daughter as she is mad for pink, purple and lovehearts - Minnie Mouse's Disneyland House from the Blog Hooked on Houses.
Do you like them? Which one would you pick? Are you a Princess Aurora or Minnie Mouse? I think it's too hard for me to decide as I’m a bit of both.
And to complete the fairytale sign-off here's Johnny looking at some part of Edward Scissorhands. I do love a man in braces.
Enjoy your weekend. Hope it is filled with fairytale loveliness. Thanks for visiting me. xx barbara kingsolver image source

johnny depp source

Chit-chat Wednesday and The Wish Box

This has been a shaggy, dreary and harsh winter. We've all been sick in our inner-city abode constantly: the Scribe since March when our dog died (although we think his health may be related to a dive he did), and Daisy hasn't been at school for over a week so we get to play together at home.
Here is a Magic Wishing Box she made where she placed all her wants and wishes into it. (Many more wishes than I photographed here). Her wishes are always for very cute things such as bunny rabbits, eleven sisters and a Prince to kiss her and take her to a castle.
I have some good news. My agent has read Poets Cottage and is happy with it. Now she's going to start offering it to publishers.
My Wishing Box is blowing a trumpet, dancing on spindly glittery legs. Unlike my daughter, I only have a few wishes inside my box.
I do feel as if something good is going to happen.
Sniffs and Coughs from Brick Hospital. Thanks for visiting me. xx

Chit-chat Wednesday and Cosy Days

We've just passed the Winter Solstice in Australia and I've been enjoying cosy days in our little brick terrace. One advantage of a small house is that it doesn't take a lot to heat. These couple of pics show where I've been scribbling in notebooks. They feature a few things I love in a room: black-and-white checkerboard floors, vintage chandeliers (I have a pink one in my kitchen), stained glass window and fairy lights.
I've also:
Finished Poets Cottage after nearly three years since it was first conceived in Tasmania on a family holiday (August 2007). At 93 000 words, it's one of my smallest books but I'm very happy and proud of it for many different reasons.
Visited my hairdresser who must have thought I had died or moved after three months of not seeing me. My new profile pic shows me chirpy now that I can see.
Been writing crime short stories for the annual Sisters in Crime competition. I love writing short stories after finishing a novel.
Lost everything (except photos and my draft manuscripts) in a major computer crash the day after I finished Poets Cottage. I had no computer for a week which was rather lovely when I got over the initial horror.
Bought a few goodies from op-shops and EBay. More to come on that.
Cheered my lovely daughter on in her first-ever sports carnival. Having been totally pants at sports all my life, it was amazing to see how good Daisy was. She won two seconds (javelin-throwing and long-distance sprint) two thirds and a ribbon for good effort
The photo of her running here is a race she actually lost when she turned around to see where her friend was. I love it, because it shows her enjoyment of the race.
I've been reading The Elegance Of The Hedgehog, a wonderful book. Bit slowish at first but if you persist you're rewarded with a magical read. This was my bookclub pick.
How about you? What cosy things are inspiring you or what are you up to? What features do you like to have in a house to feel 'right' in?
Do drop me a line. I'd love to know.
And a reminder that my giveaway closes next Monday and I'd hate for you to miss out.
Thanks for visiting me. xx

Chit-chat Wednesday and Damn right I'm a ballet mum!

I was chit-chatting with a mother during an outing at a local park and I mentioned my daughter took ballet classes. The effect on the mother was startling and instantaneous. She pulled her neck out like a swan and hissed in a disgusted voice: "I can't believe you're one of THOSE ballet mums."
I saw myself through her eyes, dragging a little girl to classes filled with pampered children in pink spangly costumes being put through their paces to be a STAR whilst I waited in the wings, screaming encouragement, pulling my hair out when my daughter faltered with tears in her eyes, begging to go play in the sand-pit.
Of course all this is nonsense. I studied ballet at a very basic level when I was young. I firmly believe ballet or dance studies encourages discipline, teamwork, co-ordination, self-esteem and a sense of achievement.
My daughter occasionally grumbles at having to get out of bed early on a Saturday, but always loves seeing her friends in her dance class. We have one of the best ballet teachers I could imagine. She is adored by many and is a firm disciplinarian of the old school but with a heart of gold. I am grateful my daughter has received the chance to train under her for a period of time. When my very ill father and mother travelled to visit us, our lovely ballet teacher broke her rule and permitted them to view the class and treated them like royalty. My parents also fell under her spell and often refer to their brief meeting with her.
I’ve observed how well my daughter has begun to carry herself. She is very tall and I know the ballet is helping her posture. In fact, I’m going to sign up myself for a series of Adult beginner classes in the hope of losing some weight and improving my dire posture. I am still amused by the shocked expressions on the Scribe's and Daisy's face when I announced this. It is time to set our dancing expert a real challenge.
Yes, damn right I'm a ballet mum and proud to be one!

all images taken from we heart it

Chit-chat Wednesday and life was easier in my mother's day because

My mother didn't have to go through the excruciating business of selecting a school for her offspring. I think Mum would be amazed if she saw the knots some of us are going through (as in my good self) in trying to choose a school. Regular readers may recall my daughter was offered places in two excellent although widely different schools.
One is a public school with a brilliant emphasis on the arts. It’s a small school which is wonderful but the drawback is that after three years she would have to transfer to another school (the reason I have doubts).
The other school is a traditional Parish school also with an outstanding reputation in teaching literacy and numeracy. This one is in walking distance and has a lovely nurturing environment - and the advantage of Daisy being able to stay put for seven years.
For many weeks I have turned myself inside out trying to come to a solution. Spiritual discipline and academia versus creative dramatic fun and play. It is not as easy a choice as it sounds, the more you reflect upon it. You feel you are holding a soul's destiny in your hands.
My mother, however, would have had none of this nonsense. She just popped us into whatever school was nearest. I don't think she would have wasted a nanosecond agonizing over the curriculum, quality of teachers, discipline policies (discipline? Just cane them all!). I think Mum's eyes would pop if she saw some of the women I know describing the agonies they have gone through for schools. Women in tears in the principal's office (this isn't me but I can relate, believe me). Plus all the antics regarding waiting lists, the bitching about who got into where and the frantic race for babies not even conceived to go onto lists of overcrowded schools. It is a jungle out there in the modern day Sydney school system.
Some days I wonder if I should homeschool and try to escape the madness, although the Scribe says it would kill me. The weekend papers ran a story about five being too young to start kindergarten which opened another huge can of worry worms.
When I spend the entire day fretting over which school is best for my darling daughter, I think of my mother how she would enrol us in any school and think nothing of pulling us out to take us to New Guinea.
This leads to thoughts of how I often feel I failed to achieve academically in life (I left school early) and how I don't want my daughter to make the same mistakes I did. I have made lists, meditated, spoken to a wide range of people and still have to make a decision. Like a decision right now as time has run out.
Life was easier in my mother's day.
And some good news for us is that my beloved Scribe's wonderful non-fiction book, Tour To Hell, has been picked from a field of 165 books to be shortlisted with five others for the 2009 CAL Waverley Library Award (The Nib). The winner of the $20,000 prize will be announced in a couple of weeks. I am so proud of him and his amazing book.
Thanks for popping in. xx

image of schoolgirls source:

classroom image source:

Chit-chat Wednesday - Baking Cakes for Mermaids

We spend the days jumping the waves – 'jumping sharks!' my daughter shrieks. Together we collect shells so tiny they disappear into light.

I watch her sitting in the waves, telling stories to the mermaids who gather to listen. Her stories involve castles made of ice-creams and cats of fire. Precious moments and tales, I press them in my mind, dangling like silver charms to reflect upon when the skies turn grey.

At night the stars are so luminous, so brazen. We are not used to the stars flashing their bodies – in the inner-city stars are modest, only ever half-glimpsed through the pollution.

But it is the innocent blue days that present the serious baking challenges. Sandcastles, jellyfish and crabs admire our efforts as we spend hours baking cakes for mermaids.

Chit-chat Wednesday - Curiouser and Curiouser - The Blustery Day

We were awoken around 6.30 am by our daughter peering out the bedroom window. "Oh, oh guys. Something's up," she said chirpily. Something was indeed up. Overnight the sky had turned to mustard yellow and outside the world looked like Kansas when the tornado was about to whirl Dorothy away to Oz.

It is a strange feeling to see the city you know so well transformed overnight by Mother Nature and the biggest dust storm the city has seen. You feel awed at the power of how quickly she can leave you vulnerable. In 24 hours Sydney has gone from a stifling 30 degrees to below 20 as a wild storm approached – thunderstorms and gale-force winds with gusts over 100 km/h.

State Emergency Services advised to keep children indoors away from windows. I didn't need their recommendation as I didn't want to struggle through the world of dust and disrupted services. Daisy and I stayed home to do craft, read fairytale books and hold birthday parties for her toys. The sound of the winds was soothing and womb-like although the world had become slightly eerie.

And recently in Glebe (boho suburb where the Scribe and I shared a one-room bedsit when I was art school) a 1.8m bull shark was spotted in a park canal. Glebe and the word 'shark' don't normally go together but there it was - swimming nonchalantly along as people gathered to watch.

Mother Nature is playing tricks with Sydney Town this week.

Wizard of Oz image source:

Glebe image source:

Fabbo Friday and A chick leaves the nest

We have now reached a truly exciting stage of the renovation in our Little Brick Cottage: Daisy's bedroom. Until now Daisy has been sleeping with us and we've used the front bedroom as an office. I've loved having her with us for this extended time as I am a Mother Hen who enjoys her family all together under my wing, but Daisy is now ready for her own room.

While the interior is painted and the floorboards finished we’re houseminding by the sea. Over the last few years we’ve been fortunate to be able to do this whilst Ma and Pa enjoy their trips to England.

Here is a photo of Daisy in her bedroom-to-be. I bought some vintage fairy print curtains from my EBay which, along with a little French china poodle, the chandelier and vintage children fairy tale books, are forming the inspiration for how I want the room to look. The shabby blue paint job was by the previous tenants and I can't wait to get rid of it. We are fortunate in the small cottage to have good bones in that the ceilings are very high and every room has original features such as fireplaces or leadlight windows. We took the other doors back to the original wood with the exception of the bedrooms. As we are most likely going to be reselling in the future we don't know if it's worth the expense as lovely as the old doors look with the original woodwork.

Because of the massive moving and all the to-and-fro between two houses there hasn't been a lot of writing happening this week. I miss it terribly and cannot wait until life settles down a little so I can do more. I hope you have a lovely weekend and get to relax and do wonderful creative and fun things with people you love. xx

Chit-chat Wednesday - What's in the box?

Life has been chaotic the last week. We are now in the last stage of our renovation, houseminding at Ma and Pa's whilst they are in England.

At 6.30am my daughter woke me, holding a beautiful little trinket box that we had made together for Ma last Mother's Day. We had laboured for a couple of weeks on this box and I had enjoyed myself speculating what Ma would keep inside it. A lock of Pa's hair? Precious jewellery? Her children's drawings?

"I want to show you something, Mummy," Daisy said as her little hands struggled to undo the container. How sweet, I thought. The mystery was about to be revealed.

Then all hell broke out as my daughter shook a large huntsman spider onto me.

I don't think I’ve ever screamed so much and moved so quickly at that hour of the morning. I ran from the room in a panic, my daughter following me yelling, "It's alright, Mummy! It's dead!"

She then told me that Ma kept the spider for her and that she played with it when she came to visit. "Uncle put it in my hands," she blithely told me.

I don't know what was worse. The fear that shot through my arachnophobic body when the huntsman fell onto the bed or the knowledge that Ma (who up to this point had seemed so sane) kept a huntsman in her Mother's Day special box. Is it any wonder that I have so many grey hairs?

I'll write more about the renovation when I post on Friday.
image source of Miss Muffet

Chit-chat Wednesday - Je regrette

I was on a crowded Sydney train when my mobile went. Fifteen minutes before I'd set out for my one day a week 'real job'. It was the Scribe. I could tell by his voice something had happened. "I think you had better come home," he said. And then, "I don't know how to say this."
A few seconds passed before I heard with shock that my Grandfather had died. My reaction was a very loud bursting into tears whilst the entire carriage of commuters sent silent sympathy as they did the usual Sydney thing of pretending nothing was happening.
There are times you feel guilty for mourning one who lived to such an advanced age as my Grandfather. But he is the source of so many childhood memories. A man of his time and generation, who spoke an Australian slang that you don't hear much anymore. He was snow, childhood rabbits, pine-trees, mice and guinea pigs, toast cooked in front of the fire on toasting forks. Not a perfect man; he had a snappy, crusty veneer at times which housed a very soft heart. I would watch with disbelief when he would cry over the deaths of his favourite birds. This was the same man who would behead his own poultry in the backyard without flinching. I'm sure I inherited my weeping genes from him. Forever generous and always trying to press money upon me. He was always concerned if there was enough food in my pantry. If you had a pantry full of food you were abundant. He had lied about his age to fight in World War II, and raised eight children in a very modest sized house.
His last couple of years were painful to witness. He lost his wife and then his leg, amputated due to smoking - a ghastly operation with just a local anesthetic due to his age. One can imagine the fear my Grandfather went through. He managed to stop smoking for awhile but soon resumed it. "What the bloody hell have I got left?" he would say.
He was quite a character and known throughout the Midlands. When I phoned to order a wreathfrom a neighbouring village and said his name, the funeral director said, 'Aah, it's for Rattler."
I can see him now going around the lake in his electric wheelchair, beret on his head, doggy companion Tess by his side (a dog he was always threatening to shoot if he wanted to waste a bullet).
I regret very much that for a couple of months I had thought I should send him a proper letter and photos and artwork of Daisy's. Somehow there was never enough time in my busy life - but there was always time for Facebook or the Blog.
On the day he took his last breath, I took this photograph of Daisy in our yard. "I'm going to send it to Granddad," I told the Scribe. I asked him to print me a copy of it on Monday.
I regret.