No thanks, I prefer scooters.

 

 

 

 

My baby turned 2. Blimey.

 

Moving House: The end. I'm hoping.

We've moved! And it's marvellous. Not the moving part, the new house part. It's oh so good to have that monkey off our back.

And did I tell you about the underfloor heating?

You must have missed what I said because I didn't hear you screaming with envy. WE HAVE UNDERFLOOR HEATING! And it's so good that I want to lie down on our hallway floor and sleep forever in its warm, warm arms.

I think that's all my news. Let's see... underfloor heating, check. Yep, that's all.

Moving house: The Opera

Best thing about moving house so far? Finding that cute pink lipstick I'd totally forgotten about.

Worst thing? I'm tempted to tell you about the worst things but the internet called and said it doesn't have the space to store it all.

Advanced Style

I love it when people have distinct fashion styles; but I really love it when I see older people show us how it's done. And then I found this.

Awesome.

Sumner beach with the most beautiful people in the world

Honest Lying

I was driving home from Christchurch tonight when I started to wonder what my world would be like if I started speaking my mind.

And I mean actually telling people what I really think all the time. Not just with Jules, but with everyone.

I want to find out what would happen. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm starting first thing tomorrow, and I'm going to do it for a month. To make sure that I actually stick to it, I'm going to write about it in a blog - not this one because it would be too easy for me to blather on about everything else and forget about my experiment - but over here at Honest Lying.

Come and have a look. If you like, you could even stay to see what happens...

The hard sell

Check out this baby! Baby hoodie that is. And it's for sale!

Size 2ish (could fit a 1 year old with sleeves rolled up, could fit a little 3 year old), made with gen-u-ine 80s fabric on the inside, new cotton on the outside. The buttons are probably from the 70s - doesn't matter when they were made though because they are HOT.

Email me for the price. You know you want it.

Trying to beat cabin fever

Birthday season

Everyone we know is turning 2 - ok, not everyone - and that means lots of gifts.

This year I am trying to make or thrift all of my clothes (except knickers because EEEEEEWWWWWWW), and I figure why not gifts as well. (I could take this opportunity to bleat on about how I am saving the planet by doing this but actually we're as poor as church mice and we enjoy spending the money we have on frivilous things like food).


On Sunday, Remy's darling friend Poppy had a party so I whipped up a little skirt for her. It's just two long rectangles of material bashed together with some elastic at the top but man if it didn't look cute. The denim is an op shop find and the apples are from my stash.



I also whipped up this skirt using the same method but it's about twice the size I thought it would be. Luckily I know a cute wee thing who will fit it.

Thank you! Thank you! OK, stop it now.

Woah! Do you people love your real mail or what! I've had an overwhelming response to my offer of real mail but, unfortunately, I am going to have to close the lines as there is only so much letter writing I can do before someone calls child protective services because Remy is being neglected.

For those of you lovelies who signed up for letters, a little something is on its way...

10 status updates I didn't post on Facebook this week

Megan Rose:
1. has decided not to be a mother this week. She's taking the week off because it's too hard.
2. boiled every component of the dinner tonight. Mmmmm, delicious.
3. has finally found a reality TV programme that she just. cannot. watch.
4. wants to add that, in fact, she finds Stylista so bad that it makes her want to scratch out her own eyes.
5. cannot stop putting her tongue into the place her filling once was.
6. was a little surprised when Remy started called her Megan. Now she's proud of him for figuring out that 'Mummy' was just an alias.
7. is having landlord woes.
8. is checking out a new house in the morning. Fingers crossed.
9. would love the manicure fairy to come and visit.
10. has cold feet. Not that sort of cold feet. Actual cold feet. Like, literally.

Dear John...

What a fabulous response I got to my desperate plea for letter buddies. And I'm so pleased that there are people who love and adore snail mail as much as I do. Unless it's bills, and then I'm not such a big fan.

Did I mention that our power bill was $300 this month. Ouch. And that's with us barely being here.

Speaking of letter writing, and not being able to help myself when it comes to thrifting, I thought I'd show y'all a little beauty I picked up a couple of months ago:

Da da! It's a ... um ... I don't know what the word is for it so I am going to call it my writing folder.

It has all sorts of pockets and compartments for me to store my letter writing paraphernalia:

It's circa 1984 as you can see by the helpful calendar:

I also have a thrifted letter holder:

I love this and I suspect it was handmade because inscribed on the back with a wood iron is "Dearest Mummy, love David and Margaret 1954".

Lovely.

Medicine

 

Sheesh, she's deperate

I love writing letters and I love stationary. I love finding the right postcard for the message. I'm even starting to feel fondly towards some stamps.

When I was a kid, I had penfriends and sure, they were all right, but at the ripe old age of 31, penfriends are a little lame. But that's what I think I'm looking for.

I write to my friends and family pretty regularly but still, I need more. I need more people to write to.

Did I mention that I'm single-handedly bringing back correspondence. The proper kind. Not this fly-by-night electronic kind.

So please, send me your address so I can write to you. I don't expect a response, and you can op out anytime. But REAL MAIL folks. What's not to love?