There aint no party like an owl tea party…




I finished these last night for a friend’s nursery which is owl themed; Why are they having a tea party? I have no frikkin idea!



I mentioned on Kate’s post about her fabbo colourful carrots that The Boy had tried to grow himself a selection of different carrots but all but one came up orange.

Yesterday when I was out in the garden I thought I might like to have a munch on a fresh carrot & pulled up one of the bigger ones (though still small)… it was red!


Uhoh! I thought about stuffing it back in the hole in the ground (would that even work??) or keeping it to show The Boy & grabbing another – but what if that was red too?


So I ate it. It was orange in the middle; I had no idea.

He was understandably upset when I sheepishly admitted my red-carrot plundering to him later, hopefully the rest of the crop will be gloriously multi-coloured. Fingers firmly crossed (& kept out of the carrot patch).


Animation Friday, on Saturday…

I made a blog button; Thanks to My Poppet!

make avatar


You can grab it on the right there if you’d like, or why not go & make one too?!


I’ve never joined in with Maxabella’s meme before & I really should try to from now on; if there is something we should all do more regularly it is stop & think about just what we have that we cherish.


After the shock of the Christchurch earthquake & the sadness that has been radiating from it; the loss, the devastation; I am, more than ever, so grateful to be safe here in our little home, with my two gorgeous children.

What are  you grateful for?



The Boy ordered some roasting garlic to grow from eBay & this is the “card” that came with it;

than you


Oohparently two little boys grow & sell it with help from their Mum. My Boy has planted it out with some onions; obviously that’s the stinky garden bed.


Still more cute; chickies! Cocco, Annie & Clarabelle, they’re teeny weeny!





…when questioned, The Punk replied “She’s very, very, very, very, very, very sick.”

I’m not surprised.



The Punk-induced injuries my old sewing machine sustained last week proved fatal, in spite of my heavy-duty gluing efforts, there was nothing I could do but hope for another sewing machine to fall from the sky.

I posted a “Wanted to buy” on my local Buy, Swap & Sell facebook page & received a message from a lady with an Elna in good working order she could give me for $50 – halleluiah!

Suspence & I drove out to have a look at her on Monday; The lady wanted me to have a bit of a test-sew & was holding Suspence when, horror of horrors, he pee’d everywhere. EVERYWHERE. There was an actual puddle of pee on the floor, & pee dripping from the poor lady… Mortified is not a strong enough word… I practically threw the $50 at her while apologising like someone with an unusual form of Tourette’s, & ran out the door.


Here she is. I wanted to call her Ellie, but oohparently she will only go by Eleanor, a grand name for a grand Swedish gal. She’s not as old as I thought she’d be, she sews like a dream & has some fancy-pants stitches that my old machine didn’t have… I do believe it’s love.



(Ooohparenly, that’s “finished” in Japanese; Japanese in honour of this divine Echino fabric


Well, this bag felt like an ORDEAL! I had to wait for my fabric to arrive (not that it was slow mind you, Kelani are all woohoo & yeahaw when it comes to fast, free shipping, I’m just impatient…), then the time I had “booked” with The Boy for him to watch Spence while I made a start on it was nixed, then it was all a-wonk, then my sewing machine broke… I could, & normally would, go on, but I’m trying to make this quick!


So MY Emma Day Bag is 終了 AND I have a new girl here to show you tomorrow; tomorrow because I presented my lovely bag to The Boy for his admiration & “Aren’t you a clever cookie?!” type comments, only to be told: “That’s good, now clean up the lounge room?”…



Ignorance is bliss.


So, it seems to be that it wasn’t all that long ago when I had one lonely blog follower. When I got to fifty I was shocked & amazed, and have continued to be pleasantly surprised ever since…


I get very self-conscious when that number goes down – not because I think that everyone should read my blog or like it, I am still pretty surprised that anybody thinks my drivel is worth the time it takes to read, but because I think I have done something to offend them, or bore them, or something, because they were following, weren’t they, and now they’re not?!

Blogger eased my anxiety somewhat by somehow making the text of how many followers there are in the box the same colour as the background so I have to physically highlight it to see if the number is up or down or static and generally, I can’t be assed to check, but sometimes I do, and sometimes the number has gone down by one, and I think “What did I do?”.

(Looks like Twits have similar issues…)



Most of you by now will have heard that Borders & Angus & Robertson are in a whole world of hurt right now & have entered into voluntary receivership.

This makes me sad. I loved Borders, LOVED. I used to work at Borders Bondi; I was there before it even opened, sorting the books onto the shelves & stepping gingerly between unsecured tiles. I loved it from the start – it was my kind of store & the people that worked in that store were my kind of people. It’s the only job I have ever liked, & I have thought since leaving to have Miss Punk that one day I would work at Borders again… but, well, it doesn’t look likely now.

There has been much talk about the evils of eBooks & buying books online, & while those two things may well have contributed to the financial dire straits that the company found itself in, I doubt they were the only factors & I’m not the only one.


Ironically, The Boy received an ereader for his birthday on Thursday – the Borders affiliated Kobo – and a Borders gift card. Not only did that mean that I now have myself a shiny new Kobo (he had zero interest & although I was excited initially I have deducted that ereaders are, disappointingly, not ‘all that’…), but that The Boy had an acute need to get in store to spend that voucher. We heard on the radio that there had been conditions placed on gift vouchers due to the current ‘situation’; in order to redeem you have to spend the same amount of the gift voucher’s worth; ie: If you have a $50 gift voucher you have to spend $100 in total, & as annoying as that seemed, the lure of a 40% off offer saw us head in yesterday afternoon for a bit of a book buying frenzy.


The Boy stocked up on gardening books & I picked up Pip’s new book, as well as the new Frankie; I wasn’t going to get Frankie (I have been trying to pretend it doesn’t exist, as it gives my inner hoarder pangs of regret still, to think I recycled my Frankie collection in a fit of insanity), but it was at the counter & we had to make up the money to use the gift card as our calculations as far as the discount went were a bit off; I’m glad I got it, it looks good, just like the fresh, fun mag I discovered when it was brand-spanking-new… although it makes me feel old to think that it’s “already” up to issue 40.


We had coffee & chai & jelly slice in Gloria Jeans & chillaxed mid-shop, & it was nice. It reminded me of the days & long nights I used to work & was just a pleasant way to spend the afternoon; but it made me sad to think that we might not be able to do that for much longer.


Flylady Dropout.


A looooooooooooong, long time ago, I cleaned my sink.

I thought “finally I am going to be tidy!”. I thought perhaps the days of living in fear that someone might want to, I don’t know, come inside the house at some point, might be over & that I would no longer be such an incredibly messy person…

I thought wrong.


I was bombarded with Flylady emails & when I changed that to just one email I deleted it without looking at it.

The shiny sink lasted maybe a week?

I’m looking into new motivational/domestic tools… because believe me, I need all the help I can get.

Because I am permanently attached to my iPod, the HomeRoutines app looks like a good choice… but do I REALLY want to pay six bucks?!

Chore Wars looks like fun for some, but not at all for me.

Habit Hacker looks cool, maybe even like something I could do… but will I be assed to look at it everyday…?!


How do you manage your domestic duties? Are you practically Martha Stewart or more like me & Louie the Fly? Tips welcome, my excuse that “Creative types are messy” is starting to wear thin… even with me.


My Creative Space…

…is not working at all.

My bag is all wonky & my sewing machine…


…is broken!



More, here.



What is wrong with this picture;
That’s right… NADA. What is wrong with PEOPLE?!

Why is breastfeeding still such a tabo subject to so many, and the beautiful image of a mother nourishing their child deemed offensive?!
The photo above is used as a promotional image for a handmade jewellery business; Mumma Rocks! Baby safe bling for the modern mumma (I have one of her nursing necklaces by the way, it is beautiful) – the woman pictured is Jen, the owner of the business, & this image was reported as indecent or offensive on facebook yesterday, resulting in it being removed from her facebook business page. When she uploaded it again, facebook banned her from uploading ANY photos for a week.

Even though facebook seems to be forever doing things like this – deleting users gorgeous breastfeeding images while leaving far more offensive pictures of women in derogatory poses & wearing far less – it is not the only place where breastfeeding is questioned, looked down upon or deemed inappropriate.
When the beautiful Miranda Kirr & her hubby Orlando released the first pictures of their child; pictures featuring a glowing Miranda breastfeeding their squishy new infant, eyebrows were raised by many & mutterings of “cover up” or “…it’s okay for her!” were heard probably not just all over this country, but all over the world.

I’m so sick of something natural, beautiful, healthy & RIGHT, being questioned & more importantly UNSUPPORTED. Seriously, breastfeeding is hard enough without having to fight for acceptance amongst your community, friends or family; is it any wonder that so many mothers relent & move to formula feeding when instead of being celebrated, this natural wonder is being frowned upon?

What disheartens me the most is when I see or hear other mothers putting breastfeeding down in various ways, & consequently putting breastfeeding mothers down too. “Breastfeeding is yucky.” “Nobody wants to see your boob hanging out.” “Go to the toilet to feed the baby.” “Feed the baby before you leave the house.” “Why don’t you pump & use a bottle in public?” “I don’t want my children to see that.” Unfortunately, all of these things I have personally seen or heard given as “advice” to a breastfeeding mother, usually by another woman… Whatever their reasons for thinking that their view is correct, be it misinformation, justification or just plain ignorance, this sort of abuse, yes, abuse, is not okay.

When are women going to start to support each other? Mothers support mothers? When is society as a whole going to start not only seeing breastfeeding as completely normal again, but better still, not bat an eyelid? 

Only when it IS completely normal again, in my opinion. Only when everybody sees it every day, thinks of it as the primary way to feed our babies & the years of ridiculous brainwashing to think otherwise have been washed away.
Even The Boy has said to me that he is made uncomfortable by nursing in public – he doesn’t have a particular reason – believe me I’ve questioned him enough – he just thinks that it should be done in private. Unfortunately for him, Suspence & I do not agree & we will get to it wherever & whenever we need to; but for woman who are already unsure or uncomfortable, this sort of ‘disapproval’ could prove fatal for their young breastfeeding relationship – that’s why they, we, need all the support we can get.

I think you can tell I’m angry. Of course I am. This sort of rubbish should not be happening, yet it is, every day. We should all be angry, whether we are women or breastfeeding or not.



When a friend shared a picture on facebook of the Nirvana shirt she got for her little nephew I knew I NEEDED one for Le Punk. She kindly picked us up one & posted it down, it arrived yesterday & I pinked it up a bit for The Punk as they were only available as boy’s shirts (what’s with THAT?).




I’m sure Kurt wouldn’t have minded – he was quite the fan of the DIY shirt.

kurt_cobain--large-msg-118410009899 Nirvana-CoporateMagsStillSuck


Be My Anti-Valentine.

In case you’ve yet to pick up a card for tomorrow…







…because I missed it, because I like it & because I still have a bunch of labels to use up, we shall now return you to our regular ‘Punky & Me’ programming…

(sign generator here)


I should have known….


Today has been ‘one of those’ days & I should have known from the outset & perhaps stayed in bed.

I had plans to drive into town to go to a farmer’s market we’ve never been to – I used to love farmer’s markets in Sydney, North Sydney being a particular favourite, so I had visions of bringing home a luscious bounty of fresh fruit & some veg, maybe a bread stick or two & some stuffed olives…

…so everyone was up early, Punk was dressed & looking spiffy & we were almost off out the door when I realised that The Boy had my eftpos card with him at work; while I was calling him to get him to meet me when I drove down to get it, Punk decided to pee… nothing out of the ordinary there except she neglected to go to the bathroom or partake in any of the other usual procedures.


After cleaning her up & changing her, bundling up Suspence & the seventeen bags of crapola one oohparently requires for a day out with two children I got everything & everyone into the car & headed for The Boy’s work. He wasn’t waiting like he said he would be. I circled. I waited. I got the huffs & got Suspence & Punk out of the bloody car again, only to turn around to The Boy standing there with my card.

Gah. Everyone back in & buckled up. Off we went to the markets!

On the drive in we pass no less than four garage sales – couldn’t stop though as we had markets to get to!

We arrived & parked the car – Suspence was hungry so we stoped off for a snack for him & a (enforced) loo break for The Punk who proceeded to lock the door of her stall & delight in my whiney pleas for her to please come out because there are other people waiting.


Hooray – we made it to the market! There were animals to pat &… not much else. Two veggie stalls that failed to excite, some honey, some olive oil, some salami sitting out on tables in the sun & an understandably large crowd around the coffee van.

Punk was happy to pat some animals but screamed as though I were murdering her when I got her to put some of that water-free sanitary hand wash stuff on her hands… this from the girl that yesterday painted the heater with the conditioner from a pump pack.

All was not lost though – we still had a birthday present for The Boy to find & sushi to eat so off we went. We settled in for Sushi but Suspence didn’t want to stop moving & Punk just didn’t want to stop. She broke the plastic thing that holds the drink menu & spilt a large puddle of soy sauce on the table before her sushi rolls arrived, then insisted on various items from my bento even though we both knew she wouldn’t eat them…

…retail therapy is purported to fix all, so off we went again to find “something”. I did find the perfect “something” but it was very expensive, after counting out all my change & factoring in the money I had on my card I had just enough, with $2 to spare! Things were looking up – I even bought the undeserving Pumpkin child a stamp with the $2 in celebration & thought “the sooner we get home the better”; which made me realise that to get home we would have to pay to get our car out of the car park. To her credit, Punk was quite good about me returning her stamp – although I did have to promise to buy her something better later.


A trip down an escalator (why do people wait until the absolute last minute to move when they are on escalators, leading to a virtual six person pile up behind them…? I fear I am becoming a crowd intolerant country bumpkin…) & up in a lift (where Punk, with her hand covering her eyes so that the people in the lift couldn’t “see” her – like an ostrich with it’s head in the sand – fell over a sleeping Suspence’s pram…) saw us on the wrong floor for our car which I stupidly didn’t notice until walking to the other side of the car park; so back to the lift we went.

One would have thought that would be the end of it – that we could all just get in the car, take a deep breath & head home but nooooooooo….

We were barely out of the car park before Suspence was kicking up a real stink so we headed to a car park as surely he must have be starving to be ranting so – out of his car seat though he wasn’t interested in eating at all & just wanted to laugh at me so again everyone was buckled back in…

Finally they both fell asleep & I was SO GLAD, until I remembered about those garage sales that I would still not be able to pop in to because I had two slumbering children in the car that would be woken up before we made it home over MY. DEAD. BODY.


Good Morning.

That’s what we’re having here so far. Miss Punk is now a kinder-girl, she started last week & loves it; abandoned Suspence & I at the door & was straight into painting & play dough…


So, back home we came, Supsence ready for a nap & Mama ready for an apple Danish & an iced coffee.

A good morning indeed – although I am a little bit lost without my big girl here, a problem that will be remedied in about forty minutes, when I will be asking myself why I didn’t do something constructive while I had the chance.


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