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We moved house again. We moved downstairs in the same building, which sounds easy but sadly still involved packing and then unpacking every single bloody thing we owned and we couldn’t really get movers when we didn’t need a truck. The new flat is smaller, a whole room smaller, so lots of stuff went to the op shop or out on the street. Four bookcases went out on the street and were gone in a few hours. One pedestrian after another stopping, pulling their phone out to call someone with a car, then standing guard over ‘their’ new shelves.
We own the new flat (well, the bank owns most of it) so we never have to move again. That’s pretty fabulous. We painted the walls with colours because we’ve had so many years of renting places that were beige (the really cheap rentals) or white (the slightly nicer rentals) that having colour seems more luxurious than anything. The kid chose orange. The kid really knows how to live large.
I made myself some socks.
They’re pretty good but check out the baby socks I sent my oldest friend.
She had a baby, I didn’t just send her random baby socks. That would be weird.
And the slippers the boy and I put together to his design. They’re lovely ornaments. He insists he doesn’t get cold so he doesn’t actually wear them.
I’m still getting my head around the camera in my current phone. Everything’s washed out and blurry til I get the hang of it or give up and go looking for the actual camera.
I decided a few months ago that I needed to conquer my fear of the fly front pant and concluded that making pants for the kid was the best way to test my skills. I had an olive green hand me down remnant that was about right for making him something, so the first pair cost me the price of the zip and the pattern, which is Simplicity 1286. The insides are a mess but they fit and they haven’t fallen apart so it’s a win.
For the second pair I bought the bright green corduroy, thinking that if the kid thought it wasn’t the right colour for him I could make myself a skirt. Sadly he loved the fabric at first sight so I got on with cutting out pants. I was a bit tired after work doing the cutting and didn’t think to add the obligatory extra three inches to the length. The second pair came together faster than the first, though still with a fair bit of looking at finished pants and re-reading the instructions. I left off the belt loops and faux pocket flap on the second pair because I couldn’t be arsed. They’re only going to fit him for five minutes.
I offered the kid three options for the contrast facings (the first pants were faced with the same fabric as the outsides because it’s pretty lightweight, the cord was a bit heavier so I wanted a quilting weight cotton). Two of the options I found in amongst the scraps in the stash were slightly murky greens. The other was this pink floral. Living large on saturated colour, he informed me that the choice was easy. I found a bright green zip and some off bright green bias binding to neaten things up bit. Obviously I couldn’t be bothered changing overlocker thread. In my defence, I had spent the entire Sunday before threading and re-threading and adjusting the tension on the overlocker and I couldn’t face the idea that it might go wrong again.
Then, to make the bottom hems as small as possible, I added a few inches of facing to the teeny tiny hem. They’re Springy sort of pants so I guess when he outgrows them in a few weeks he can turn them up to reveal the gaudy cuffs. He’s really pleased with them.
I tried to convince the kid that now I’ve figured out how to make him pants I can teach him to make his own pants. He’s unconvinced. The next day I said “It’s Monday, it’s your cooking day”, he replied “Nah, I gave up on that”.
Which is pretty funny because he hasn’t given up on eating.
I’m supposed to be organising a garage sale, and making a pig costume, and packing, and and and…
So I wondered if anyone had thought of any excellent new blog names for me now that Inner City Garden is about to become wildly inaccurate? We’ll be moving to the Macedon Ranges. We’ll have a bigger garden, so that part of the name is fine, but we’ll be in a small town, not a city. We’ll still be “inner”, as in “walking distance to amenities”, not down a dirt track, but no one really talks about “inner townies”.
I received all the lease papers in the mail today. I’m roughly two parts excited and one part terrified about what the hell I’m going to do with my life now that I’ve (at least temporarily) given up on Plan A. Suggestions are very welcome for either blog names or Plan B.
We also thought we should squeeze in a bit more inner city cool before we move away from it. So we took the kid to another gig by the same band we saw yesterday. He loved it. That might not have been obvious to anyone else. He stared. He stared at the instruments, he stared at the musos, he stared at the pint-sized moshpit up the front. For the second last song he joined in the jumping, but stayed very close to Daddy while doing it. He hasn’t stopped talking about the gig since we left.
The Mudcakes totally rock. Music for the sort of kids who have Dads who signed them up to subscribe to public radio. Next week they’re playing the Footscray Community Arts Centre, which is an excellent place to eat, drink and ignore your children while they kick a footy or ride bikes, because the cafe there provides lots and lots of toys. If you can’t get there in person, buy their cds online. They’re both good. They even have a song about toilet training.
It doesn’t hurt that they play licenced venues either.
A picture for Janet. (One of) my clothes drying rack(s). In action beside the back door, taking advantage of the lack of seals around the door. The red peg, in the middle of the t-shirt on the bottom rack was placed by the toddler. I generally don’t aspire to peg marks in the middle of my chest.
Sometimes it’s important to lighten the mood, get away from the all black, and spice it up. Which is when I wear a bit of charcoal. Perhaps for summer I might acquire something a little less funereal. But I’m not making any promises.
Earlier this morning, while I was winning Mother of the Year awards for making cheesy zucchini muffins, washing up, keeping the kid entertained and feeding him healthy food all at the same time, I thought “gosh isn’t it a lovely sunny day, we wont get many more of those for a while” and I opened the back door to let the air in.
Two hours later it’s dark and hailing.
If you haven’t been to Melbourne that’s pretty much all you need to know before you pack your bags. You’ll need sun hats and rain coats. Regardless of the season.
Incidentally, I lost all the Mother of the Year awards shortly after opening the door because the kid was entertaining himself by spilling his water all over the floor. Which I didn’t notice until he skidded through it and fell flat on his back. I’ve explained to him now about Occ. Health and Safety, so that shouldn’t happen again. Maybe I should invest in rubber matting…