Wednesday, August 26, 2009


The smallest boy in our house is very fond of frogs. He wants a frog cake for his birthday. Actually he is intrigued by all sort of animals including chillalas (koalas), wombats and particularly thorny devils, of course.  Last time we were walking in the bush he warned us to be careful not to tread on any baby chillalas that had fallen out of the trees onto the ground. He assures us that death by 'treading' is quite at the heart of the plight of the baby chillala, so please take care.

My interesting little man has even invented some creatures and can weave a fascinating tale of their adventures. You may not know this, but apparently, sometimes, when sitting down to dinner, it is absolutely impossible to eat as all your focus is required in keeping an eye out for 'pompigs' and 'bonkins'. 

In case you are not as familiar with these creatures as my lad, I shall describe them to you on his behalf. He tells me that pompigs fly, but they are certainly  NOT like fairies, they live in trees and hide in the leaves.  Bonkins, are not rampant rooting beasts as their name may suggest. (The boy has arrived at this name via other means than my own love for the crass double entendre.) As I understand it, the bonkin is very similar to the pompig, however flightless, larger and they inhabit quite different trees.  An interesting fact about both critters is that they go to the shops and buy milk, which they keep in their fridges in the trees. 

Unfortunately, both the pompigs and the bonkins  are plagued by their only known predator ... dun, dun dun ... the coronados. Coronados (koh-roh-nar-doss) are relentless consumers of both pompigs and bonkins. Nasty coronados! The coronados is a white scavenging bird. You may be more familiar with both their common name, the 'seagull' and their diet of stolen chips dropped near park benches and the like. 

The little lad's most recent animal adventure occurred in our very own back yard. I was pruning and weeding - as I am want to do on random occasions, when I heard the guy call out " Look Mum, I have found an animal." Surprised, I turned to see him proudly clutching a dead rat around the middle. I reacted with my usual calmness and complete control in any anxious moment (ahem...), squealed and cried "Drop it, it's dead!" grabbed the boy by the hand and dragged him inside to be thoroughly disinfected while the boy repeated " Mum it wasn't dead, it was just sleeping."

Needless to say, the savings fund has commenced for his therapy and mine after this exciting incident. But happily it has not impacted on my lovely guy's interest in animals in general. 

Grimace the frog (above) was made at Brown Owls the other night for the small boy's 4th birthday invitation. It is a little bit of a weird image for a 4 year old birthday invite, but he is quite fond of a little weirdness. 

Monday, August 17, 2009

Saturday, August 15, 2009

C is for...

I am a big one for commitment, well now that I am old and in my thirties I am. In my early twenties, the 'c' word was not high on my agenda., ahem, but let's not talk about that.

Now I am old and wise and can see the benefit of commitment. The joy and strength that comes with staying. 

I am now making a new commitment, one entirely to myself - to follow my own fancies, to make stuff, to make stuff with other people who are super-fantastic friends and makers.  I was going to say its a commitment to 'craft' but I am not sure that is true. It is all about following my own creative whims and fancies  to see where they lead me. 

It's exciting. 

A friend of mine asked me via Skype the other day (how contemporary!) - "Art is amazing isn't it? Why do we even bother with the other crap?"

"An excellent question", I thought.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The bigger the cushion the sweeter the ...

I am happy with these babies. But what do you reckon?

Weirdly, it was this little baby that made me the happiest of all. I cannot explain why I love it so,  but its small and stripey and I like it.

Friday, August 07, 2009


Waiting, waiting, waiting ...
Patience is not one of my strengths. 

We are edging ever closer to a whole family trip to France - the luthier got the fellowship, we are accessing funds for the rest of us to go, it is all looking tantalisingly real.  Now we wait for confirmation from France. We have no dates for our trip and can't plan anything. We can only wait.

Frustration is really creeping in. However I am attempting to adopt the new mantra "Let go, stop pushing, all will come together in its own sweet time."
Hmmmm ...

I am also trying to take my mind off it by focusing on a wee bit o' cushion making. The ever-wondrous Mrs B made the first Mrs Smith sales for me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I didn't take pics of the pair of cushions sold, but they came from on old souvenir 'Tasmania' tablecloth, and turned out pretty neatly in the end. 

There has been much scouring of the local op shops for nifty bits and pieces, with some success. Excuse the poor photo- photobooth is all there is until the Luthier brings the camera home.