My baby had his first haircut

 

Suffering for my art

I watch too much TV. Specifically, I watch faaaaaaaaar too much 'reality' TV. I just don't know why I do this to myself.

Watching this crap gets me sooooo freaking mad. The people, oh lord, the people. The people drive me crazy.

Like, right now, I'm watching Bridezillas. (I know. Once again, why on earth do I subject myself to this rot?). There is a woman on here who refers to herself in the third person. She also calls herself a queen. Not in that fun Oooo-look-at-me-I'm-a-flighty-fun-drama-queen way; she calls herself a queen because she believes she deserves to be treated like royalty. Why? Because she says so.

Too much. Just too, too much.

So why do I watch it? Is there some lovely chemical reaction in my brain? Am I relieved to find that there are people far harder to live with than myself?

Let's have some quiet time and try and forget about this.

Thrifting through life

I had a magical thrifting day last week.

There are some things that make my heart skip a beat in a thrift store - Enid Gilchrist books are one of those things. There is nothing this woman doesn't know about sewing, and practically nothing she isn't prepared to say about style (in quite a cranky tone. How I love her).

 

And another handy book on technique:

 

Because I use vintage patterns almost exclusivly, I need books like this to explain some of the steps that are missing on the pattern's instructions. Everyone used to sew, which means that pattern makers didn't have to write down every step. People like me need EVERY step. EVERY step.

I pick up a board game for my darling (practically-just-get-married-already) sister-in-law's birthday:

 

And the reason I get up in the morning to thrift - a beautiful, immaculate typewriter for an unspeakably good price.

 

I've wanted a typewriter for a very long time. My great Grandmother used to type her letters which I always thought was the height of sophistication. I love real mail, I love love love it, so I send a lot of it. Now I'm going to type it. Just as soon as I get a company to start making again the ribbons I need...

Horsing about at home

I do like it that Remy has started talking buuuuuut

...I could swear that he just said to me "bye bye dumb dumb".

Playdough Play

The acid test

I have a new way to measure how long is too long between posts.

I no longer rely on increasing levels of guilt. Oh no no. There is a much more reliable method - how many messages and phone calls I get from my family telling me to update.

So, (64,0000 Facebook messages from my cousin later), here I am.

Things have been grrrrrreat. Hanging with Remy is exactly where I'm meant to be. He's going through a fabulous stage - new words and phrases all the time, including "turn it on", "close the door", and my all-time favourite, "cup of tea".

I've been a social and cultured butterfly too. I've been to Tutus on Tour and the Wellington Ukelele Orchestra at our beautifully restored Opera House. I've got a regular day for volunteering at the gallery (Monday mornings thankyouverymuch), and I've been to some wonderful exhibition openings. Remy and I have had some fun playdates and a great time having friends to dinner. We've also had some much longed-for visitors.

On the crafting front, I've been whipping up skirts, dresses and tops for me. I've had some requests for leetle wee baby clothes, and a some things for friends which I'll get around to...

One of the best things to have come from leaving my job (and also from having done that job in the first place), is some contract work doing policy in my very favourite area - CRIME! YAY!

And, to round things off, a comment or two from Remy:

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