Bag Lady

Today my handbag carried a couple of wardrobe handles, some door knobs, a binder holding- receipts-color samples and bench-top finish brochures, also my cellphone, a roll of doggy poo bags, my purse, reading glasses, sunglasses a tape-measure, mini-iPad, a boy-scout style utility knife, rubber gloves and a make-up compact.

Since I've morphed into a building site foreman (woman) my day-to-day teeny trendy Vespa shoulder bag had to go.

For the duration of my renovation I need something sturdy (I've already ripped the lining of the Vespa by stuffing too much into the pockets).
It also needs to be big enough for a binder, some tools, tape measure, bits and pieces of random metal and timber, but with handy external pockets for smaller items such as car-keys, lip balm and phone (that will likely get mashed by all of the above).

I used to wear a tool-belt, but the landscapers that worked on our deck teased me mercilessly. After I went shopping in a trade tool supplier and saw the kind of calendars they hung on the walls, I totally 'got it' and stopped wearing that thing immediately - practical as it was.

This is NOT a look I want to be associated with

 So after a couple of hours light sewing and seam ripping I have something practical and modest and I only get teased when I need to unzip the fly to remove larger items:

This is such an easy bag to make:

Cut a pair of old jeans off just below the crotch and open up the inside leg seams. Open the front seam to just below the bottom of the fly and the back seam almost to the back yolk.  Fold these pieces over to flatten out both the back and front then top stitch them in place. Trim off the excess fabric on the inside - bind or zigzag it first if you want to stop fraying.

I used a leg off-cut to cut out an oval for the bag bottom, I used heavy stiffening (i.e. cut up plastic meat trays from the butcher) to give the bottom some support. If you do this make sure your stiffening is smaller than the fabric oval by your seam allowance measurement. This way your machine wont choke trying to sew three layers of denim plus a chunk of stiff plastic.

The easy way out is to just sew front and back together at the bottom and forget a base altogether - it looks just as good.  For me it just wasn't as sturdy for carrying lumpy heavy random stuff.

Oh and I almost forgot the straps: I used some scraps of garment leather I had lying about, but old belts (especially using the buckles as a feature) work well too. Again just be mindful theyre not too thick because again your sewing machine just might choke. If you don't have old belts laying about check out the local Op-Shop.

I love making stuff out of old jeans - when this renovation's done with, I'm going to pull out some more denims and get creative - maybe the Pinkster could do with a little jeans bag of her own and another denim cap..

A Mummy Mondays Linky

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A womans work..

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I think it was specifically at the point, mid-morning, where I was supporting my weight on the bathroom window sill, elegantly squatting over an imaginary toilet marked out in pencil on bare cement, that I asked myself; "am I out of my depth here?"





I am project managing a building site and I'm making it up as I go along. Much to the amusement/ bemusement of my Tradies: affectionately known as the A-Team . They're all mates, and that makes my job easier because they co-ordinate, but best of all they're pedantic, perfectionists and clean.

The plumber was trying not to laugh and I was saying: "No, this will work - I have long legs right? - but most of that length is from knee to hip, so it's a good indicator."

He gave a resigned shrug and said, "OK, shuffle back a bit you're on the edge of the seat there," he looked like he was going to laugh. We were trying to measure out how much space was necessary between the toilet and the shower.

After my undignified squat on 'the imaginary throne', showed us we had ample space,  I made him (because he's broader than I am) stand in the imaginary cubicle and put his hands on his head. Elbow to elbow this , very scientifically, gave us the minimum measurement for the width of the shower. "You don't want to whack your elbows on the screen while you're washing your hair" I explained.

But this was just part of my day. Aside from being hair washing day, I'd already cooked breakfast for She-Who-Worships-Pink, packed the lunchbox, got her ready for/ and to, school (just in time) walking rather than driving for a change. I delivered her forgotten water bottle back to school, called the plumber twice on the road, stopped into Reece Plumbing and ordered the toilet pan, went back home for my reading glasses (God knows what I paid for that toilet -I couldn't read the invoice for the life of me).

I also experimented with tile removal using tools I bought six months ago for a job at home that's still not finished.  I watched a YouTube "removing tiles without breaking them" video first before going live with a hammer and chisel.
I was so proud; the tile I was working on slipped into my hand with neither fuss nor breakage and without damaging the render underneath.  Fueled with a certain smug enthusiasm I then went tile shopping.

After school run, while Pinkster danced her legs off in Jazz Ballet I popped home again, printed, paid and  filed invoices.

This new job as a building project manager (which pays as well as my writing - hah) started a month ago when we bought a one bedroom flat as an investment.
It was dated, run down and had an 'original' 50s bathroom in grey and pink.  The toilet bowl was pink, the sink was pink, the towel rail was pink, the soap holders were pink the loo-roll holder was pink, the tessellated floor tiles were grey and pink.  Even She-Who-Worships-Pink thought it was the ugliest bathroom on the planet.

But as real estate agents are fond of saying in these cases - it was: "Full of Potential". That is certainly true, but realising that potential (between 10am and 2:30pm) was more than I'd bargained for. You see it also had 1950's plumbing too and that is where the budget blow-out will no doubt come from. Not helping the situation is the Strata Managers (BCS) who have turned out to be as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike with their response(or lack thereof) to water-leak emergencies, general information, repairs.. um even responding to phone calls.

So that was my day. The Orange dog, on the other hand, had an excellently indulgent day, starting with the walk to school with the usual hugs and petting from a ton of uniformed kids. On to the flat for some more petting and fuss from the plumber and his apprentice. Then a walk on the foreshore where he scored more fuss and adoration from two strangers. At Reece plumbing supplies he lay on his back in the showroom - legs akimbo with no less than four sales people taking turns rubbing his belly.

He was a bit disgusted to have zero attention in the tile store but after a drive through KFC where he was compensated with half a box of popcorn chicken, his fragile ego was forgotten.
The walk back to school and Ballet class, is always a guaranteed cuddle-fest but two little girls in leotards kept him company today while I took Pinkster in and helped her get changed.

Tomorrow I have to order carpet and buy bathroom tiles by end-of-day. I need to meet with the tiler on site first thing (after school run) and discuss what and how many I need to buy and what we can do to cover up the ugly mottled and broken peach monstrosities that serve as a very poor imitation of a kitchen splash-back.

I'm guessing tomorrow will be another day that I won't see the inside of a gym, lunch with anyone, get a haircut, pedicure, flu shots, Botox, or even a quick coffee with a girlfriend.

Mummy Mondays Linky

One Mother Hen

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Loud

The neighbours are driving me nuts.

You can live with early evenings and late mornings punctuated with loud drunken guffaws.
But the 3, 4, and 5am screaming matches and tipping over metal garden furniture onto brick pavers is seriously un-fun. Especially since their nocturnal playground is directly under our bedroom window.

  The sequel to Sleepless in Sydney recently published on The Bub Hub..this is where I really take the gloves off...  read more here..

Fashion Flash Back

This post is both; a bit of a flash-back and also about flashing your back.

I would like to apologise up front to those of you I might alienate with my unbridled contempt towards very feminine fashion. I think the Duchess of Cambridge looks fabulous, I just wish fashion buyers would put something else on offer in-store for those of us who's style is different.

Just sayin'.



I love my little girl to pieces, but not her taste in clothes; when we go shopping together she makes me try on what, to me, are the most extraordinarily ugly dresses.
Always uber-girly; always floral (with a strong bias on Liberty prints)  and more often than not flouncy with pinched in waists and full skirts.

I'm not a girlie-girl or a flouncy flowery dress person.

I'm more of a style-fan of Marlene Dietrich and Audrey Hepburn. I like straight uncomplicated lines and I NEVER wear florals - unless it's a Vintage 60's shift-dress the likes of these..

I hate gowns that resemble meringues with a passion so the last ball I went to I wore a custom tux with a backless fly-wing shirt inspired by the 1983 movie Flashdance .

I've always loved wearing suits. I used to go to a lot of balls, and the 'who's-wearing-the-best-dress? contests' used to make me gag, so that's why I decided to opt-out and join the guys.

Suits are classics, if they're cut well, they're dead sexy, ageless, timeless and you get a nice warm jacket as part of the deal with pockets which beats the hell out of dancing around your handbag.

So I thought, for our weekly 'crafty' I would talk about my conversion of a simple halter top into a fly-wing shirt.

I used a McCalls pattern, wish I could tell you which one, but there are quite a few vintage patterns on Etsy that would convert well.

Something like this, cut down, would be ideal.

I cut a pattern for the Dickie front laying tissue paper over the front pattern pieces. As my shirt front pieces had darts for the bust shaping I made sure that my Dickie fronts didn't cover these.
Then I took two pieces of my main fabric and pleated them before cutting them to shape (with allowance for turn-under).
After that, I pinned them to the shirt front panels and top-stitched them in place, lined up with the centre front (leaving the turn under for the front facing clear).

I sewed the  facings and side seams, attached my modified collar and left the button holes till last.  I wish I could give you a short cut for the fly-wing collar, but how you do this depends entirely on your original pattern's collar and you just have to tweak it until it looks right. I always experiment on paper first, even pinning or using sellotape to add pieces to the pattern.

Adding pearl or glass buttons and satin ribbon, gives it an even more formal finish. If I were younger and still had a six-pack I would do a cropped version with a fringe of beads along the bottom. Sadly I still have the beaded fringe I bought to do that, but not the six-pack. 

So here you have it; my timeless masterpiece (eh-hem) and back-flashing flash-back to Flashdance:
 a movie that launched several iconic fashion looks most of which enjoyed a renaissance in later years (even legwarmers!).

Thank God the monster shoulder pads didn't quite make it across the line the second time around.

Funny Girl

A day without laughter is a day wasted.

Charlie Chaplin

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/laughter.html#fQzAX5qQlzliMFzl.99

A day without laughter is a day wasted.

Charlie Chaplin

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/laughter.html#fQzAX5qQlzliMFzl.99

A sense of humor... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.

Hugh Sidey

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I am thankful for laughter. Except when milk comes out of my nose. .
Woody Allen

"A day without laughter is a day wasted."
Charlie Chaplin

A day without laughter is a day wasted.

Charlie Chaplin

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/laughter.html#fQzAX5qQlzliMFzl.99

This girl makes me laugh. Even way back in day care her teachers enjoyed her fabulously quirky sense of humour. She can find fun and humour in practically anything. For example the other weekend were walking The Orange Dog at one of our local leash-free parks. Like many parks on Sydney's Lower North Shore this one was on the water front.

So while we're throwing the Frizzbee and Buddy is doing his best aerial work catching it mid-air, a wedding party arrived  with a photographer.
The bride and groom posed for several smoochy shots with the water and boats as a romantic back-drop.  That was until a UFO of the orange kind flew into frame with a cobalt blue saucer shaped thing in his mouth.

Nanna was with us and she pointed out that our Orange acrobat was 'spoiling' the wedding photos. Pinkster and I looked at each other both of us catching on our, minds zipping into comic overdrive. I said, "Can you imagine their wedding photo album?" "People will look at their photos and wonder what that orange streak is with it's teeth reaching for some blue thing!"

That was enough for Pinkster and she laughed so hard she nearly wet herself. We both did a few impersonations of Buddy's various frizzbee-catching-facial expressions. And she laughed even harder. I love her laugh. One day I'll record it into a ring tone and she'll make me smile all day long; I'll stop moaning when the phone rings.

When we got home she decided we had to make our own UFOO (unidentified flying orange object) wedding photos:

She was chuckling the whole time she worked on her pictures then she made me draw one for her (the first in this lot) but decided to add wee falling onto the groom's head.

She riffed on the wedding theme and came to a boy at her school who apparently says, often, he's "in love with lamb chops". So then she drew his future wedding photos with his beloved chop in a wedding gown while he's, all dressed up, trying to shoo away all the dogs trying to snatch his bride.

She has quite an imagination. Her teacher tells me she can't wait  to see what Pinkster comes up with for this term's narrative exercises. Me either.

Well tonight it wasn't about drawing weddings or flying dogs either.  She was in the bath and although the water was toasty warm she told me she felt cold.  I offered to put on the heat lamps, which we rarely use because they're blindingly bright, and this is how the situation deteriorated:

She called out to me half an hour after I tucked her in; "Mummy! I cant sleep.  Your glasses are in my bed!"

OOPS.

A Parenting Life linky

Shades of Magnolia

She-Who-Worships-Pink is going to be a designer of some sort, I'm sure.  I just hope it's not fashion; she's WAY too fond of frills, flounces and florals for my taste.

Our girl loves flowers, she picks them everywhere she finds them (except from people's gardens - we've talked about that!), she gets me to buy her fake ones whenever we come across them and she even asked me to turn her bedroom light into a giant flower.

Since the local council planted a magnolia tree outside our house we've both become quite partial to that particular bloom. 

So this was the challenge:  to transform an ugly ball-globe light fitting (which we inherited with our home) into a gorgeous crimson magnolia.

I started out with some heavy pattern making paper and just chopped, shaped and measured until I  came up with something I thought would work.

I cut out around seven or eight petals from fabric and iron-on stiffening. I re-used some plastic meat-trays (well washed) cut into strips to make 'bones' for each petal's center.

I sewed the petal seams up, clipped the curves and turned them right side out then top-stitched the edges.

After that I inserted a bone into each one and sewed that in place on the outside.

Measuring the base of the light fitting, I then overlapped my petals leaving a hole in the centre to sit nicely around the fitting, before basting a line of stitching to hold everything in place.

The only thing left to do was bind the top edge with Bias-tape and hang it up.

My only design issue with this light shade is that it shades too much of the light. Next time I think I'd use a lighter more transparent fabric and hang it over the original globe/ ball fitting so it wouldn't get too hot. I thought it would make a really nice cover for an ordinary lamp-shade - but that will be another project later down the track.

But Pinkster loves her magnolia bedroom light and that's the main thing with our craft sessions; to keep our resident art-director engaged in creating and coming up with ideas.

Frozen

She-Who-Worships-Pink now worships blue too, thanks to the movie 'Frozen'.

I had to order the DVD on Amazon because Miss Pink couldn't wait a month for it to be released in Australia. We've watched it on loop for longer than I care to think about and even I have "Let It Go" playing over and over in my head 24/7.

It was even the feature song of our school's recent Grand-friends Day concert. Then it was the performance piece at a recent birthday party. 

I have been tasked now with finding an 'Elsa doll' which is proving to be more difficult than locating a four-leaf-clover.

And the dress...

Well, that one's more up my alley. Ebay has loads of hideous Elsa dresses that bear no resemblance at all to the original:

Which just offends my designer origins...

So off we went to our favorite fabric store (Remnant Warehouse -Alexandria) where Pinkster went mad as usual. Fabric retailers in Sydney are few and far between, good ones.. Well it's almost easier to find an Elsa doll quite frankly. But this one is special; a huge range of dance/ costume fabrics and the staff really know their stuff. 

Still I couldn't get exactly the pale blues I wanted and Pinkster's like a bunny in the headlights when confronted with sequins.

This is what we came up with - not perfect, but not bad.

So two hours later, one pattern and seven fabric pieces cut, I got to sewing...until the sewing machine broke down. To name and shame: it's a relatively new Toyota. DON'T touch them with a barge pole.

So I would like to show you the final result, but even after dragging my 20-something-year-old Janome out of the attic to finish off, my house model had to go to bed before completion of the finishing touches.

Now it's also the seamstress's bed time so I'll have to finish hemming and the photo-shoot in the morning....

I really need to film Pinkster performing in this costume- way too cute, especially as her wig slips :0)

Crush

What do you do when you overhear your six-year-old daughter telling someone in the school yard that;  she's not in love with [Popular-boy' in school]  because she's already 'seeing someone'?

Panic?

 I got the giggles. 

 
Just like the night we 'broke her heart' over a couple of lamb-chops, I  tried not to laugh out loud.  I just made those funny noises you do when you try to keep a really big laugh inside your mouth and you end up sort of blowing snorty raspberries through your nose.

You see it all started way back in the Christmas break after a trip to the mall with a friend. She kept talking about this boy she'd seen: "I think he was about ten years old" she says. She talked more and more about this boy, who was "so handsome' with dark brown hair. And how she would marry him one day. Thanks a bunch, Walt Disney for all those fairy tales that end with 'the kiss' sheesh.

Some months later with several mentions of the ten-year-old-boy with his dark brown hair, Mr Frenchie takes her and a friend to our favorite French Creperie. low and behold who is there? The "ten years old boy with dark brown hair"!!

So the Daddy person tells me, after positive identification from Miss Pink, he approaches the parents and tells them that somehow our daughter saw him in a mall months back and has been crushing on him ever since! Miss Pink is all shy and mortified so introductions cannot be made although his parents think the whole deal is impossibly cute.

But as lunch is finished and Mr Frenchie drives past where 'Ten' is waiting for a table with his parents, he lowers Pinkster's window so she can wave. Ten, waves back grinning and calls to her 'Salut!' in a perfect French accent.

Our little Miss Pink is equal parts; thrilled and mortified.

After hearing the story I  asked Mr Frenchie what he looked like; "He's a seriously good looking kid of about ten years old." he says nodding; "Our girl has very good taste!"

We now have the pleasure of 'seeing' 'Ten' on a semi regular basis at the local French Creperie, he's usually waiting for a table with his sister, Father and dog, as we are finishing lunch. Pinkster is always too shy to speak to him, but at least, as far as she's concerned, she' still seeing him. Literally.

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Lack of Charm

Two weeks ago I was cursing Leggo Friends for the teeny tiny little people and there microscopic accessories that needed rescuing from the floor in the path of the vacuum cleaner. 

Well now we have tiny little elastic bands littering every surface in the house. There are elastic bands, embedded in the sofa cushions, in the bathroom sink, twisted around toothbrushes, in bedclothes, in school uniform pockets, lunchboxes.. Barbie dolls are being strangled with them...

The Rainbow Loom Bands craze has hit down-under with a vengeance, and I for one have another storage, not to mention vacuuming nightmare on my hands. The schools are writing a whole new set of rules around wearing and sharing them to put a lid on the playground loom band squabbles.

She-Who-Worships-Pink-and-Now-also-Blue (thanks to the Frozen movie) got a set from her father and the little pet is truly addicted. But in the actual kit there are only six charms to approximately one million elastic bands (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration). 

So Pinkster decided we had to make some DIY charms from Play Doh.
I went one better (knowing Play Doh wouldn't cut the mustard) and bought her some air drying clay at our local craft store. 

It was another messy exercise first shaping our charms. Then we had tiny little charms drying on the kitchen bench and later a production line of charms in various stages of being painted and lacquered with either 'glitter glue' or nail varnish. They are still there a week later.

But this is a sample the finished few...

We're also working on smiley faces (with mixed results ) and butterflies. I think a nice simple idea, and with Easter around the corner, we might also try some Easter egg shaped charms; they could make a nice gift alternative to chocolate.

I use a toothpick to make holes before the clay dries, but I noticed you need to make those pretty close to the edge if you're using very small jewelery rings to connect them to the bracelets.

Now that school is over for the term, and we don't have homework and school runs to deal with I'm looking forward to making some more with Pinkster over the holidays. But I am also looking forward to a clear bench again so maybe not too many more.

Are your kids hooked on making loom bands too? 

Just wondering how far reaching this craze is..

Sleepless in Sydney

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My OCCD episode is long gone - I no longer enjoy the visual delights of a pristine abode. Domestic standards have dropped dramatically in response to the sharp surge in my sleep debt.

I don't remember when I last slept blissfully through the night - it's been a while.

I just cant seem to get the knack of sleeping through loud talking or shouting (or yelping for that matter).

Everyone in our household (except me) talks and/or shouts in their sleep (including the four-legged family member) On top of that, our lovely neighbor's two daughters have moved back home and they're very shouty.

All this shouting happens in relays; when one person is done another takes up the baton the next night. 

Mr Frenchie has been on back to back business trips so I've been single parenting - badly. Meanwhile  the rest of the team have upped-the-ante to make sure the nocturnal disruptions continue:

We had the three-night-incessant -ear-flapping episode that resulted in a vet visit, very expensive ear drops and further sleep deprivation for yours truly.

Several night wakings from She-Who-Worships-Pink-and-needs-to-do-poo at 2am. I've since installed a night-light in the bathroom but it doesn't make her any quieter going about her business. It takes pure talent to successfully use a toilet seat to emulate the sounds of a five-car-freeway pile-up.

Our neighbor's daughters are avid entertainers (on school nights) and they prefer their tiny back patio to their living room. This sits directly under our bedroom window. Since our gardens are only six meters wide so you can pretty much hear each others toilets flush, but 4am does seem to be the official shouting arguments with boyfriends hour.

Last night there was an electrical storm so the orange dog, locked out of our room so I could sleep, decided not to be thwarted by a mere bedroom closure and he banged, scratched and cried at the door - at 1am then again at 2:30.

So this week I've turned up to the school run late every time sporting a range of luggage under my eyes. Surprisingly I only once forgot Pinkster's school bag but three times I forgot where I'd parked and wandered aimlessly down streets I had not parked on looking for the car.  I probably should avoid driving, but I'm so low on energy I cant make the uphill walk to school. 

So here I sit writing, trying to lighten my mood but all I can contemplate as my early evening is punctuated with loud drunken guffaws, is how in my diminished mental state, I will likely react in the wee small hours of tomorrow as it hits shouting-at-boyfriends hour. Usually I crawl out of bed and flash the living room and deck lights on and off until they take the hint.  I might just get as creative as my Mum:

Years ago Mum got even with our rude neighbors and their 8-y-o Satan's child who'd told her to "p*ss-off" when she asked politely if they would turn down their music a bit.  It was legendary watching my tiny mum drag my brothers home-made electric guitar amplifier into the garden. Then she ran leads and cables inside to the stereo where she threw on one of Dad's worst recordings of bagpipe-marches.  She let-em have it for two more hours after they turned off their music.  Perfect score of 10 for both technical difficulty and creative merit.

There's a cab honking away out front which they've all just piled into. Great, looks like they're going out clubbing tonight..

This does not bode well;  might check iTunes before I hit the sack and see what they have in the way of  bagpipes... 

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