Morning Talk

Do you remember morning talks at primary school?

This post is going to be a little bit like one of those,

because I have nothing particularly important to say, and a random photo of my cat!

So it's mostly about how my friend Claire who is a stitcher /quilter extraordinaire invited me to a stitching group with a couple of other ladies who both happened to be called Michelle.

I enjoyed it so much, and it was nice to meet new people called Michelle!

All I could find to take was my Christmas Beatrix Potter cross stitch. And that was just lucky because I found it behind a chair in my knitting basket.

I managed to complete a small area of brown hedgehog.

This is what they are all making, with their own choice of fabrics, colours, threads etc etc.

This one is Claire's. I just love it, and am feeling re-inspired, but I still have to find all my stuff!

It's here somewhere.

I think I'll do mine in silver threads with shabby chic colours. Surprise, surprise!

And I really, really want to get some bunting made for our housewarming party.

But time is of the essence, and I probably won't have any left!

I have made some more curtains from tablecloths. My life is complete blog chics.

There are just not enough days in the week at the moment.

I'm scared of the Cooker!

Today is the first day since I've been here that I have been able to stay home all day and just enjoy it.

I began with some baking. For every day lunch box fillers you can't go past the institution of the Edmonds Cook Book.

This book remains on the best seller list year after year. It's been published since the early 1900s I think, and every Kiwi Cook has a copy. I was going to say housewife, which would have been the case for most of its history, but I don't think the "housewife" really exists any more.

That sounds fairly straight forward you might think. But I have a small confession to make.

I'm scared of the cooker! It's so flash! And the hobs are gas, the nobs are different, and I'm slightly scared to twiddle them in case it self destructs in 10 seconds!

I managed to work it all out without anything going bang, and made vanilla biscuits with chocolate drops and no raisins! A lot of the recipes in the Edmonds book can be modified to suit your larder. The ones I make I have made so often that I know all their little idiosyncrasies and tricks for doubling the recipe etc.

So I've been sneaking round taking pictures of small vignettes that are different in this house, but at the same time very familiar.

Autumn is beginning to set in. Daylight savings finished last weekend.

I have been lighting the fire at night.

But today I lit it in the afternoon and sat there writing a letter to my friend Debbie in Tauranga, whom I haven't seen since 2003, but who has recently discovered my blog, so we are back in contact, which is lovely.

Debbie wrote me a real letter. I re-discovered the joy of the letter that day, and promised to write her one back. So today was the day.

I have another friend who writes me real letters on special occasions.

Hello Fi, if you are reading this post.

There is just something special about a hand written letter. It says the same thing as "handmade" to me.

Somebody values you enough to take the trouble.

And my cats STILL only drink from china cups. As soon as I put the cup and saucer down on the back veranda she went straight there for her customary "cup of tea".

The Magpie Cat is getting old. She is appreciating her new cat door. It's a big step up for an old arthritic cat, but it means she can stay inside out of the cold.

Grandma's Tablecloth.

Murhpy's Law implies that if there are really good quality curtains in the house you move into, then you are probably going to hate them with a passion.

Such has turned out to be the case here.

So in order to fit within my re-decoration budget which is nil, I decided to use my embroidered tablecloth collection to make curtains. I wonder what Grandma would think.

The one on the left includes a tablecloth she embroidered.

I am pretty pleased with the way the way they turned out. I think they suit the house.

Just need a few more to do the other window. Good old Trade Me should do the trick.

That's Grandma's tablecloth with the red poppies. It is particularly lovely.

I didn't know my Grandma very well. I only met her three times.

She died when I was in my early twenties, so I actually have quite few bits and pieces that belonged to her.

All my Grandmothers were accomplished handcrafters, but my Grandma Auss was the most accomplished. Especially at embroidery.

I think she would have approved of the "make do and mend" aspect of my new curtains.

Meanwhile I have been enjoying hanging my washing on the line in the meadow.

Climbing through the fence (having first established that it was not electrified) is part of the fun.

Buttered Paws Not Required:an evidence based conclusion.

We have finally moved in! Six blokes, several trailers, trucks with lifty things on the back and vans, utes and a honda accord was all it took.

My hubby was brought up in the"sitting on the concrete will give you piles" tradition, and he is firmly of the belief that you must butter the cat's paws when you move them.

I have to concede there is some logic to this, in that it might induce them to groom.

However, the chics make the cat rules in this household, so no paws have ever actually been buttered, and now I can present my evidence based conclusion that it is just not necessary!

I rest my case.

The tail cat moved in and made herself right at home.

The kitchen is still huge because my new table hasn't arrived yet.

The Magpie Cat decided that she needed to be carried up the stairs.

She achieved this by yowling very loudly at the bottom till we came and carried her up.

I guess if you haven't had stairs before, you might expect that your people would carry you up,

or install a small chair lift or something.

What actually happened is that everyone got busy and ignored her and she had climbed the stairs by herself by the second day.

View of the garden from the upstairs window.

Forgot to fix the exposure on this one.

Not a scerrick of butter on the Tail Cat's paws.

There's a Mouse in my House!

Indeed more than one.

I found them while I was tidying up my endless boxes and baskets of sewing stuff.

I have only very vague recollections of doing them,

But I suspect it was over the many hours spent in hospitals with Callum,

when one day pretty much merged into the next and I was very grateful to have cross stitch to occupy me.

That was in the days before I could afford to make quilts.

In fact my first quilts, and some of my favourites still to this day, were made from scraps of material from Sarah's dresses and scraps from things my Mum had made for us.

Each scrap tells a story.

I remember when I made this one.
I was expecting Callum, and I made it for him, not knowing if he was going to survive.
I had it framed, but it was done very badly, so I took it apart a few years ago and used the frame for something else and kept the cross stitch with the others.





The mice are all from the same cross stitch book. I found a half finished one too, which i will endeavour to finish eventually!
Never thought this would happen, but have to confess I can't see the colours very well at night now, which makes me lose momentum with cross stitch these days.

I also found Mrs Tiggywinkle at the bottom of the pile.

She was very delicate and difficult to do. The detail is so fine.

I can't use the 18ct anymore, because I just can't see well enough.

My daughter does it beautifully, and so quickly, and laughs at me for my bumbling about eyesight, the way I used to when I thought that would never happen to me.

Gosh I did that ten years ago!

Mrs Tiggy is one of my favourite people.

She's an ironing freak, just like me!