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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.
A dear ol’ pal of mine has started a new blog, which I’m reading excitedly, and now that she’s settled in I feel like it’s ok to link to it. So go say hello to Lucid Ephemera, who will satisfy all your just-moved-to-England-and-want-to-eat needs.
In other bragging news, our broccoli has started to flower, and we’ve eaten home grown spinach more than once, so I’m finally starting to feel more settled in to this house and garden. In even more exciting news, the locavore cafe a few blocks away has been stocking larger quantities of local fruit and veg and extended their opening hours to seven days a week, both of which make living locally here so much easier and less car dependent.
I found the camera briefly, and got the photos on the puter, and now it’s lost again. It’s not the only important item suffering the lost, found, lost, found fate.
I found the ring I had thought was gone forever in Adelaide. I had tried to be relaxed about it and think about how it’s just an object, and life is bigger than that, yada yada. But I was feeling rather sooky about it anyway and now it’s much better. In other happy news I’ve finished a few things, some pants for the kid, a summer handbag for me (except for the button, which I’ve lost), the neice’s doll quilt (18 months late), and the Bloke’s quilt (more than two years late).
I like to think of myself as a person who isn’t very attached to objects and things and stuff. But I am. Most of us are. Moving is rather confronting in that regard. I’ve tossed and donated and garage saled and recycled and yet there are carloads and carloads and truckloads of things. We had to drive around yesterday looking for charity bins. Most of the ones we found were nearly full, so we’d get rid of one bag, then drive to the next one and repeat the process. Five bins later there was room in the car to collect the lad from Nanna’s. Christmas usually makes me feel ready to become a Minimalist and toss everything as I become swamped by all the new stuff. Moving house has the same effect. Having both at the same time makes me want to join a monastic order.
We had a quick dinner with friends last night, the kids hit the wall around 7pm, and the adults weren’t far behind. I was awake for the children’s fireworks, but I had been in my jarmies for some time. We saw in the new year in bed, surrounded by bags and boxes, unless of course the bags and boxes get up and move when the people go to sleep. We were woken by a drunk couple arguing outside our house at some stage, but it didn’t last long enough for me to get up and offer relationship advice (go home, sleep, and talk about it when you’ve sobered up). We got up this morning and walked into the city to find the Bloke some new jeans (same as the old ones, but without holes, they’re on sale at the moment) and the kid a few necessaries. If you have to hit the big yucky shops for post-Christmas sale prices, first thing in the morning on New Year’s Day is the time to do it. FYI: Hudsons coffee will be the only place open and they do now serve organic fairtrade coffee, but the staff may be too tired and hungover to notice you asking for it. I’m not really sure what I got, except that it was in a paper cup (which you get even if you’re drinking instore).
In other news, I’m now old enough that cabinet papers from the year of my birth are so old they are no longer secret. The new house, incidentally, is roughly the same vintage.
Last inner city curry on Sunday night. First country living beers (and soup from Nanna) on Monday. We’ve even got the new internet working (albeit slower than the current connection).
Packing books, chucking things, booking removalist, or finding camera so I can blog the new house?
Christmas is almost done. Christmas event number four is tomorrow. I’d show you the haul, but the camera, she is somewhere under piles of wrapping.
The short version is that I got some new art, the Bloke got some new art, and the kid has 35 new Matchbox cars/trucks/utes and one rather large and noisy bulldozer next to an old doll’s house with lovely new wooden furniture. He also insisted that I should paint his “males” on Christmas morning. Far be it from me to tell a male he can’t have a mani & pedi on a special occasion.
Also, the new house has brown velvet curtains in the living room, which will co-ordinate nicely with the loungesuit* lounge suite, and there are orange tiles in the kitchen. I’m planning to measure up the garden for a truckload of compost when we pop in there tomorrow morning before Christmas.
* Blogging while a little weary can lead to telling the world that you have a brown velvet loungesuit. Oh that it were true.
But it does make me relieved at being unemployed. Always look on the bright side etc.
I’ve packed 9 boxes of books. I’m not finished, but I don’t think I will make it to frog’s 40 boxes. This is something I hope to fix in time for our next house move.
I’ve found quite a few books that don’t belong to me. They’re in a bag ready to return to their rightful owners. At least five of them should have been returned last time I moved house. I don’t think my supervisor has missed them though.
The empty spot on the bookshelves now has a (tiny, fake) Christmas tree. That’s three whole shelves lower than it is during the year. It’s very dusty, and I’ll thank you not for mentioning it should you visit.
We’re having an as yet undetermined number of people over on Saturday for the kid’s (premature) birthday. The stacks of boxes may act as occasional tables.
The sock knitting continues fine, and we’ve tidied up the garden. The Bloke even mowed the weeds.
I’m not entirely sure where we’ll be living in late spring or summer. Actually, I’m not even a little bit sure, there are a few vague possibilities in the works. I am sure that we wont be living here for years and years to come, but I don’t know exactly when we’ll be moving. Let alone where. I don’t just mean “which house we’d move to” either, I mean “I can’t narrow it down to less than a 200km radius of our current address”. Which, I think you’ll agree, makes gardening a little tricky.
I do have my Diggers seed catalogue and I have been reading and annotating, but I have been unable to reach any decent conclusions because the various places I might live are in different climatic zones. So I’m dealing with occasional snow and lots of frost in one possible location in winter, and regular high 30s and low 40s type temperatures in summer in another location. I have a stash of seeds in the drawer which I should be starting now-ish. If only I had a seed raising mini-greenhouse type arrangement to do it in. I need to start seeds in seedling trays because the ground is full of broad beans that have barely begun to flower and I would very much like to enjoy the fruits of my broad bean labours. Moving house is probably a couple of months off at least, and I am a bit torn between not wanting to leave the garden and all the work we’ve put into it, and very much looking forward to a new, bigger, sunnier garden not over shadowed by a five storey building (which will be demolished in a few months and I don’t really want to be around for that either). I am also torn between getting seedlings started in trays all ready for our new hypothetical garden, and not wanting to move house with dozens of trays of seedlings because frankly we have more than enough stuff without adding delicate plant life into the mix. I am only considering new homes within my current state, so I don’t have to worry about crossing borders with the plant life and creating legal issues.
I know what you’re thinking, “what the hell is she getting all whiney on the internet for?”, and the answer dear reader is: please offer me a job, then I will know where I have to live.
The rest I can deal with myself.