Shoes, glorious shoes, red, orange and flatties!

Shoes. What can I say about shoes that hasn’t already been said, and often better? And usually by Rosered. I love shoes. While I was a poverty stricken university student, I was known to spend my rent on shoes, and then grovel to the landlord, or landlady for extra time to pay.

Back then, I was on first name terms with the owner of the most expensive shoes store in this state’s capital city. He would see me, across the street (the busiest street in the CBD) and call my name to tell me he had a new shipment of Italian or Spanish shoes in. That’s how much time, and money, I spent in his shop, at a time when I had no money (but lots of time)!

I still have some of the shoes I bought then – 25 years ago – as testament to their quality and beauty – and to the fact that I don’t wear heels much anymore. And to the fact that over the years I was willing to spend money to maintain, and re-sole and re-heel them. Some of the shoes I passed on to my step-mother – who still wears them.

I have a weakness for shoes. In the past month I have bought 5 pairs of shoes – you saw photos of 3 pairs on my great day, but yesterday, 2 pairs of Birkis arrived from Germany. They are fun, whimsical and fit perfectly. They are flat. I generally wear flats or very low heels these days. Partly because I live in the country (heels are no good on mud, gravel and puddles). Partly because I am a stay at home mother (heels are no good for picking your way between Lego pieces, dress-up clothes and while emptying potties and wiping up sick, or for pushing strollers). Partly because I have no life, and so, unlike Sarah Jessica Parker, I go nowhere and wear no designer clothes. And partly because I generally wear jeans and jumpers; or capris and t-shirts (depending on the season).

I did weaken 2 years ago and buy these gorgeous bronze bits of nothingness – nothing, that is, except straps and heels. I bought them for a wedding – I’ve worn them twice – but I love them anyway. I made holes in the lawn. It was fun.

I love Rosered’s shoes. Just beautiful, and back when I worked in an office (in the dawn of pre-history) I wore shoes like that.

When we lived in Hong Kong, I used to visit shoe street (between Causeway Bay and Happy Valley racecourse) and there was a stretch of ultra expensive Italian shoe stores, and then a stretch of knock-off stores. You’d grab the owner of your selected knock off store and tow him past the windows of the Italian ones going “I want THAT colour, with THOSE heels, and THAT toe”, and he would have them made for you by next Wednesday. And they would be beautiful and not expensive. I still have the most glorious pair of green snakeskin courts from him. But I never found the perfect pair of orange shoes.

I adore orange shoes and red shoes. I had the most wonderful pair of low Italian orange wedges that I wore and wore until they literally fell to pieces one wet day in Hong Kong. I couldn’t ever get a pair as good, and they were past even using as a pattern. I live in hope of one day finding another pair.

At one stage I had 4 pairs of red shoes. One pair of Italian red leather courts, lined in cream glove leather with high heels (still have them), one pair of leather flats, a bit like highland dancing shoes (fell to bits), one pair of satin ballet type shoes with long laces up the leg and one pair of red boots. These days I have fewer – but can almost always be seduced by gorgeous shoes in lovely colours (I have no discipline).

Despite never wearing pink, I even had a pair of flat pink t bars which I adored and wore to death.

When it comes to shoes, or sock yarn I have the self discipline of a drunken sailor. Speaking of sock yarn, this Marion’s sock yarn I bought on ebay arrived to day – Yum!


I also took the 2 boxes of toys, the ride-on, and a bag of books to the child care centre and sold the combustion stove, its hot water tank and all flue pieces and it’s gone, gone, gone. (Given its size and weight, that has to be worth around 25 normal things) Its removal also means that we regain the use of the back room it was sitting in.

The de-cluttering continues – just call me Imelda.

Warning: Fatuous Motherhood Statements Ahead

What can I say? I have the cutest kids in the world! This morning, Princess did not wake until 8.30am (go on, other mothers – hiss with jealousy, especially when I tell you that Destructoboy did not wake until 10.00am and they were both in bed asleep by 7.40 last night!). I currently have a really sore back (I think I must sleep like a pretzel) so sweet Princess snuggled up for cuddles, then she and the Accountant went downstairs – I staggered down to the bathroom and was about to insert myself into the shower when the Accountant burst in and told me to get back into bed NOW!

The Princess had made me toast, spread it, cut it and made the pieces into a butterflies (we do this in our house – ‘Look a boat – a dog etc), and carried it up on a tray (well the Accountant carried it up the stairs and Princess did the flat sections) with a card she’d made. I was so impressed!

Today she’s going all out to be as wonderful as possible. Helped make Destructoboy’s lunch, got herself dressed in clothes she picked out (don’t ask), sweet, sweet, sweet!

So how come half the time she’s the exact opposite? A mystery on the cosmic scale!

Now, Kate is responsible for the ‘In’ items this week – because of her mentioning this, I immediately had to look, so I bought the latest Vogue Knitting (I don’t usually Vogue, but goodness – have you SEEN this issue) – I want to knit probably 10 things from it right now, now, NOW!

And it’s got very interesting interviews with the old guard and the new (I only buy it for the articles, honest). And because I saw the Vogue, I also got the Creative Knitting – hopeless – all the spine of an ice cream cone, that’s me!

I have, however, sorted all the children’s clothes, so, more for Lifeline etc. I even sorted some of mine. I managed to buy only what was on the list at the supermarket yesterday and put on blinkers while walking past everything except the news-agency (see above).

I’m attempting to rationalise the pantry. We have a walk-in pantry, and I worry we will all starve if it’s not full. I have finished playing freezer lotto for a while – I actually know exactly what’s in there and it’s all labelled – though freezer lotto definitely had it’s fun side! Ahh, the anticipation of having no idea what you’d pulled out for dinner until it had thawed! Luckily, I’m pretty sure my freezer has no tripe or liver hiding down the sides.

Tomorrow is the official start of school holidays (the first weekend doesn’t count), so a degree of rattiness lies ahead. Juno’s first sleeve is up to the armhole, so I hope to get the shaping finished tonight. I think there’s ironing to be done also, so I’m unlikely to get the second sleeve cast on – the collar keeps getting closer though.

So, on the to-do list are the Polyglot socks (again), the Happy Clappy KAL, and I think I have to make Black Dog’s glorious swing jumper again (and probably again and again), but this time in Silk Garden. I washed it yesterday (really don’t ask – but check Jejune’s post about dangly scarves) and realised that I wear it and wear it and wear it and love it to bits, so another one is definitely the go – and it’s a 2 week knit (for me – 16 hours for real people). What could be better?

Thanks for all your advice re photos – it obviously is an Australian problem that they take forever, so while I can’t make them faster, I’ll take Rosered’s advice, and just do something else while I wait!

I'm not the Wizard of Oz, but....

I’ve just been sewing a heart back on a red devil. This sounds much more exciting than it is. Princess was given a rather unattractive red devil yesterday – which she adores and I am in awe of its general ugliness and tackiness. It showed how tacky it was by the heart it was holding coming adrift today while we were out and about. So I’ve just sewn it back on. Daughter thinks I’m great, son wants the BIG scissors and other pointy injurious equipment from my sewing box, and everybody is happy.

Well, except for the fact that I need to admit to a few more items in: hair bobbles for daughter, in the vain hope that this will stop her screaming when I tie back her hair for school. There are three very cute sets of bobbles and 2 sets of clips. I also acquired 1 new bra on sale, and daughters summer sandals – also on sale, and somehow a ball of clearance Jo Sharp wool slipped in there too. I’ve also bought some wool on ebay, but I won’t admit to that until it actually arrives – there has been some Jo Sharp kid mohair I’ve had my eye on, and I fell off the wagon. (I’ve barely got ON the wagon, at least as far as buying wool goes, so we shall pass a veil over that).

Juno has both fronts finished and a sleeve started (just) and I didn’t mention that I’ve been using my KnitPicks on her – these are so nice to use – I’ve also succumbed to the lure of some KnitPicks DPNs for socks and in a shameless plug, I’d like to point out that the wonderful Donyale has Knitpicks in her online shop and is running a competition with giveaways – so run on over and check it out!

The Accountant has been ribbing me about knitblogging (hah hah very punny – noticed afterwards!). He thinks it a sign that I am a sad individual – I point out that most knitbloggers have very full lives, that I am not a good example (not having anything resembling a life) and that I have made some lovely friends. Also, that this way I can talk about knitting to my heart’s content – and the people who visit me actually know what I am talking about.

I am extremely envious of Madmad’s tech savvy with her photos – very ghoulish and lots of fun – I just want Blogspot to upload my photos faster (it seems to take ages and those of you who have lots of photos have either found a much faster way than me or have things you can wander off and do between uploads). I hereby welcome any and all tips on getting photos to upload faster, because I am slow, slow, slow.

In other news, we are sending George Dubya Bush back where he came from tomorrow – we don’t want him any more – we have our own pale imitation (and I don’t like him much either). I feel so sorry for any of you trapped in Sydney, Dear Readers, it must be a complete pain in the wazoo (notice how I miss out on Rachel’s ‘R’ rating!)

Off to make stuffed potatoes for dinner – with cauliflower cheese and big meaty mushrooms – because I like all that and I don’t care if no-one else does! Enjoy your weekends!

Wrap your sleeves around me

I have a problem with sleeves. Either I have very short arms, or most patterns have very long sleeves. In addition to long sleeves, there is also the problem that I think ¾ sleeves were designed in heaven, and I hate tight things around my wrists.

Long sleeves are pushed, rolled or folded up until they are out of my way and about 10cm clear of the wrists. I regularly take this amount off patterns, and still end up with long sleeves! The current fashion for sleeves to your fingertips simply means that I have to roll them up further.

Long sleeves get in my way. They drag in my dinner, fall in the washing up, swipe the kitchen benches and we’re not even going to discuss what happens regarding the potty and toilet training stuff!

I was 35 before I could reliably wear anything white. Even if I drank only water and ate white bread, my white top ended up covered in red wine, coffee, spaghetti Bolognese and beetroot. White trousers or dresses were (and with small children still are) out of the question. I am a grub. I can’t help it. I attract dirt and crumbs and sticky stuff. And long sleeves are just asking for trouble.

What is it with these sleeves? Is it like the mandarins of ancient china with their sleeves and fingernails? Do sleeves like this scream ‘I am not a mother – I do nothing grubby during the day and am single, so I don’t do housework’?

It’s like teetery high stiletto heels. I love them, but I not only live in the country, I have kids. You know you’re middle aged when you look at the divinest shoes and say ‘No – I can’t push the stroller in them, and I just won’t get the wear out of them’. Mind you, didn’t put me off buying the gorgeous bronze sky high stilettos I’ve only worn twice and the last time served only to aerate the lawn!

Thanks for your lovely comments. Yes, yesterday was a crappy day. The biting incident – I thought Destructoboy was leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek, when he sank his teeth in and refused to let go. I tried to prise his jaws apart with a finger, and when that didn’t work (and I thought his teeth were going to meet in my flesh) I smacked his face (not hard, just 2 fingers, but it gave him a shock). I prefer not to have holes in my cheek, and while I don’t usually condone smacking, I could think of nothing else to make him let go! Hissing imprecation did no good, not did begging, so the slappy tap it was – it worked, and every adult in the performance leaned around and glared at me! I was really surprised my face wasn’t spurting blood!

This is what I have to contend with!

Today I helped the kindergarten kids walk down to the local hall for the Town and Country Spring Fair. It’s not really a fair, but most local schools and organisations have fundraising tables – our school sold chocolate. The kids filled themselves on fairy floss and other sugar, bought second hand soft toys and showbags filled with useless stuff for $2. Princess had 5 whole dollars to spend and ended up with a large bag of assorted crap.

I ended up with this. He followed me home, mum, can I keep him?

She thought it was wonderful. I thought the best things was that all the kids, hopped up on huge amounts of sugar, were going back to school for 3 hours, and not coming home!

The Lure of the Foreign Legion

Good afternoon.

I am hereby submitting my resignation as Mother and joining the Foreign Legion. While I realise this will force me to learn French, that’s OK – I also understand that there is very little toilet training involved and someone else cooks your meals and washes up.

I am also quite taken by the idea of solitude, hot desert sunshine, a complete lack of children and the possibility that someone else may have to do my washing and ironing. If I fail the recruitment test, I will immediately put my hand up to become a nun, preferably in a silent order. Although that may involve cooking, I can probably cope with that as long as I get some time to knit. I will also get some time where I am not:

a) Shouting;
b) Checking that people are listening to me;
c) Getting them dressed;
d) Putting them on the toilet
e) Being bitten on the face – in public;
f) Trying to give children a cultural experience while they run around like mad things, shouting;
g) Apologising to other adults and children for my childrens’ behaviour;
f) Hoping the floor will open up and swallow me when I am exposed as an appalling parent.

From the above, you will probably gather that it has been a BAD DAY.

Unfortunately, I don’t think they let you resign from Motherhood. I am counting the hours and minutes until the Accountant appears at the door and I can drink my first (and second and third) glass of wine.

It started out inauspiciously at 6.30am, with a gentleman ringing our doorbell to tell us that one of the neighbour’s cows was out on the road. Generally, cows on the road are considered a BAD THING. Anyone who hits a cow with their car, no matter how appallingly badly, stupidly or illegally they are driving is in the right and the owner of the cow is at fault. A cow can do a great deal of damage to the average small car (or even the above average large car. The cow also comes out of it badly.

This meant throwing on clothes, calling the farmer (who lives about 25 minutes drive away) and walking quickly the 500 metres to the cow, whereupon the man who’d come to the door had already got the stupid animal into a paddock – entirely wasted walk in the cold.

I compounded the awfulnes of the day by opening the refrigerator door and having an entire, unopened bottle of wine fall to the floor and smashing, meaning massive and delicate clean-up operations involving 750ml of very nice wine and a shattered bottle worth of glass spread all over the floor while trying to get lunch for children. I am shattered at the idea that this bottle was wasted, but luckily it was in the back room on lino, not in the kitchen on floor boards - with children (perhaps it would not have shattered if it hit floorboards? A depressing possibility).

I took the beasts – sorry – children to the school performance of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’, a particular favourite book of ours. It was sweet, the Preps (5 and 6 year olds), Grade 1s and Grade 1 & 2 combined class (it’s a small school) each doing the same piece, with increasingly more speaking and singing as the age group increased.

Why is it that other children sit quietly, watch the performance and clap at the end, while mine crawl all over each other, other children and any adults unwise enough to sit near us? I am so going to make it my life’s work to embarrass the pants off them as they get older. Destructoboy even found an alternative route out of the hall, and took off at high speed across the school grounds.

So I’m tired, grumpy, and in need of caffeine and wine (not necessarily in that order). And knitting. I definitely need the calming and restorative powers of knitting. I finished the first side of Juno the other night and got up to the increases on the second front. I actually thought I’d done the left front and was working on the right, but closer scrutiny (I’m really bad at telling which is the right side when knitting rib) suggests that I’ve finished the right and am working on the left, so there you go. Regardless, one side is done and I’m doing the other. Probably finish that tomorrow night (frogging and the knitting godess permitting) and start sleeves. Hurrah – looking forward to taking a great leap into the unknown and knitting that collar.

No, no little discreet cables for me to practice my first cabling, Uh uh – I’m going the gusto – it’s a huge and very visible cable collar for my foray into this new skill.

Off to herd cats – sorry – children. Have a nice night – I intend to get these munchkins into their beds at the earliest opportunity. And then sit knitting quietly until my bedtime. I even start a new book in bed tonight – just finished Kim Harrison’s ‘For a few demons more’, great fun.

I’m wilting at the sheer excitement of my life!

An update and certain political comments

Computer running? Check. Third coffee? Check. Bathroom clean? Check (What? You thought I never cleaned the bathrooms – well, as little as possible – but it does get done. Eventually.) Alone in the house? Check. Quiet? Check. Smell of vomit gone? Mostly.

It’s been a fun night.

Those of you who have been following this blog for a while (its whole 2 month life) may remember the great vomiting incident of July. I say ‘great’ meaning lots, not ‘great’ as in ‘Hey that was fun, let’s do it again soon’.

Had an incident last night – luckily a lonely and isolated incident. But the washing remains – the entire bed folks, not just a sheet or two, but every single thing on the bed, including blankets, doona, mattress protector, pillows, assorted teddy bears and dolls, to say nothing of the Princess herself. A shower at 10.30pm for a five year old in tears in not the most fun thing for them to do.

Drawing a veil over this whole awful incident, I will replace it with good news – the fridge is back – this means more space for all the stuff I fill it with and an endless supply of cold filtered water which we have really missed – you can definitely taste the difference.

On the de-cluttering side, I delivered 2 bags to Lifeline (another bag in the offing), but bought a top and 2 dresses for me and some kids clothes for, well, the kids. So the net loss is more like 1 bag – but there is more to go, so I haven’t lost hope yet!

Juno has one front finished, and the second cast one, so I feel as if there is some progress being made.

And speaking of progress, I’m absolutely disgusted that the Gunn’s pulp mill appears to be going ahead – haven’t our politicians noticed that most Tasmanians, especially small business people in the area don’t want a stinky water polluting mill which uses native forests. With any luck, the coalition may realise it’s in a marginal electorate, with more votes in stopping it than in letting it be built – and it’s an election year. You never know your luck in a small country town.

It’s been a fairly open secret that Gunn’s actually runs this state – personally I think we might as well sack our entire state parliament and let Gunns run the place – they do anyway, and at least we’ll save on the parliamentary salaries that way. It wasn’t quite so obvious under Jim Bacon, but after he died, Lennon was in Gunns’ pocket so the rest was a foregone conclusion. The best analogy I heard about Paul Lennon taking over from Jim was that it was if the nightclub manager had dies and the bouncer took over.

Mind you, our Liberal ‘Opposition’ is a bit of a waste of space – given that they never actually seem to oppose the ALP on anything. The Greens are the only real opposition, and there aren’t enough of them to block legislation – Boo Hiss!!!

Politics of this fair, green isle aside, I think I’ll stick to my knitting. If you’re all very good, there may be some photos this week!

The grass is as high as an elephant's.....

Well, there’s Father’s Day over and done with for another year! The Accountant received a beautiful coaster from the Princess (made in Kinder) along with the requisite hand-made card and key-ring, along with 2 shirts and a lovely silver punch-server. I also extended myself and made Brioche for breakfast (the little bobbles on the top were the most popular bits for children).

Took daughter to the local circus annual performance. These guys run a circus school and the Princess has been hanging out to turn 5 and thereby be allowed to go to circus school. I’m hanging out until she turns 15 and runs away to join the circus!

She’s been able to turn somersaults since she saw a child do it on Playschool when she was 18 months old. She’s also in love with being upside down on the monkey bar on her swing – so anything which might allow her to swing in the air turning around while upside down has her vote. I prefer the idea of circus school to ballet – as a veteran of the ballet wars (I danced for 17 years) I know what the injury rate is. I stopped being serious about it when I was taught how to wrap my toes so that when they bled (not IF – WHEN they bled) they wouldn’t ruin the inside of my pointe shoes.

I have the feeling that circus is a wider range of skills and possibly more fun and less seriously pink and girly.

I took Princess to Cirque du Soleil when we were in Canberra earlier this year – she didn’t take her eyes off the stage and sat with her mouth open barely speaking through the entire performance. Anything which renders the Princess speechless is to be seriously encouraged.

Just returned from assisting with a post Walk-a-thon BBQ at the school, so am feeling seriously diligent and dutiful – quite enough overt motherliness for one day, I think.

Juno is progressing nicely – up to the armholes on the left front, despite having to frog 25 rows because I forgot to do the increases, and then frog 10 rows after re-knitting because for some weird reason my subconscious decided I needed increases on both sides (I probably do, but let’s not get into that).

I also followed Taph’s lead and am trying to spring clean. Two boxes of toys are ready for the local not-for-profit child care centre, along with a ride on toy, one very large bag of assorted clothes etc is off to Lifeline, one bag of nappies and baby stuff off to a friends for her little one, another off to another friend for her little one. A box of crockery and kitchen ware is also half finished for Lifeline – so that’s seven boxes and bags and lots more than 7 items. – Still heaps to go to attempt to de-clutter this place!!

Kate was talking about the nude Olympics her children engage in – my children love running around sans clothes and now that Destructoboy has been toilet trained and nappies are a thing of the past – he is often to be seen sprinting past – willy waving in the breeze. Now that spring is here, summer’s not far away, and that means nudie splashing in the paddling pool and slippery sprints through the garden (although I insist on shoes – some thistles always get missed when I chip the lawns - well grass – not nearly well enough looked after to be actual ‘lawn’. I don’t worry about lawns – I’m like Peter Cundall – lawn is just green stuff you walk over on the way to the fruit trees and veggie garden).

Garden's currently doing a great job of burgeoning – first of the blossoms (Kentish cherry) have bloomed, as have camellias and rhodos. I have 2 camellia trees which stand over 10 metres high – yes, 10 metres. I think they are probably quite old. They look very beautiful at the moment, as do all the others about the place.

Hurrah for spring – and for all the things which grow and require me to do absolutely nothing to make them look beautiful!