Blogs, around the house.

One often reads posts where a blogger declares that “…blogging has given me so much!”, & I would have to agree, literally.

I love that I can go in almost any room of my house & see things that have come from other Bloggers – things I saw & wanted (needed!) or things they saw or made & thought I would like.

It makes our little cottage even more cosy, so I thought I’d share a glimpse of just some of the things that really make our house a (blogger’s) home.

(Punk’s room: Pyjama monster & rainbow haired doll from Sam. Vintage fabric lap quilt from Deb. Suspence’s room: Tiny ted from Jess, SUPER robot softie from Cath, plaid bunny from Jennie. My room: Many brooches from Cam, one from Liz & one from Cinti’s shop. The lounge room: Chooky pin-cushion from Alex. On the way to the laundry: Singlet from Bec, Skirt from Kate & another lovely dress from Alex. Kitchen: WELL used 80’s-esque tea towel from Nic.)

Getting back on the horse.

I’m really missing blogging regularly but keep making excuses to myself as to why I can’t or I don’t have time to. As I said in my last post I have been uncharacteristically domestic lately and weirdly, it’s getting me down.

Too much work & no play makes Vic a tad grumpy. So I am making a little pledge to blog every day for two weeks in the hopes that I will get back into the bloggy groove, starting today.

If you need a bit of motivation too feel free to join me; it’s only two weeks… we can do it, & we may even want to keep it up afterwards. Stranger things have happened.

Good Morning!

Have a wonderful Sunday.

Half-assed-craft; repurposed Dachshund jumper.

How quiet is it around here at the moment? I apologise but I am having a rare bout of domesticity; the house is in a state that DOES NOT have my heart racing if there is a knock at the door & we are wearing clothes that don’t have sauce stains on the front… this unique state of order comes at a cost however, & that seems to be any time I have for anything at all craft or blog related. Let us all hope I get over it soon.

In the meantime I have a truly half-assed-doggie-craft; make a dog jumper from a human jumper sleeve. I doubt you need any instructions past “Cut arm off jumper & put two holes in it”, so I won’t insult you.

I will say that trying to get Jordan to wear such a thing WAS an insult however, so Dixie – the shivery one – get’s two.

Wordless Wednesday: Star Gazing.

 

Playing along here.

Time Warp Wives

I stumbled upon this article the other day (I wasn’t looking for dachshunds or anything… *coughs*) & discovered the phenomenon of “Time Warp Wives”; Women who have retreated to a time in the past within their own homes. Not women who are a bit obsessed with 50s items or 60s clothes, but women who are actually, for all intents & purposes, living in the past.

My first reaction was “Cool”. But then I thought a bit more about it & realised I would not be able to do it. As much as I adore vintage things & the idea of living an idyllic 50s life (in a gorgeous & perfect looking 50s home); I just don’t have the happy home-maker in me. I do not live purely to pamper my “husband”, I would be mortified at the idea of him bringing home a mink as a birthday gift & I don’t look hot enough in teeny waisted vintage dresses.

Imagine all the modern things you’d miss if you moved into your own piece of history? No new artists, no new music, no internet (although these people seem to get around that). Nothing challenging. It strikes me as living in fear somewhat; living in the certainty of the past & retreating from the reality of today.

Watch the British documentary on “Time Warp Wives” here & come back to tell me what you think!

…

I get a little bit scared when I’ve nothing real to worry about. When everything is going well & I am happy & the worst thing that happens to me in a day is Punk throwing a tantrum over not  being allowed to have a fourth yoghurt, I am reminded of stories in tabloid magazines that begin with the words; “We had the perfect life until…”.

Makes being perfectly happy & content a tad less enjoyable, this odd paranoia of mine.

But it’s okay. I’ve had a couple of things to worry about in the last few days… like';

Will the two adult miniature Dachshunds* that are coming to live with us like it here?

Will they like the children?

How long will it take to house train them?

Why won’t they go to sleep?

Why did I get two dogs?

Can I deal with two dogs, and two kids?

Are they running around too much after their spaying ops?

What is that lump?

No really, what is that lump?

What will the vet say?

Why don’t they like dog toys?

Can you teach a dog to like dog toys?

Where did the spatula go?

Why do they like chewing spatulas & not dog toys?

What is Mr going to say when he sees where they were sunning themselves on the spinach?

What terrible thing is going to happen now that I have two lovely sausages happily toddling about, two sweet kids, a honey of a honey & a cosy home?

(Is that the sky falling….?)

*A boy & a girl – Jordan & Dixie, 4 & 5 years old, former breeding stud boy & pretty as a picture show champion, respectively.