a sense of history...

this is the back of the sewing machine manual for my new/old machine, a lovely bernina 1005 that belonged to my husband's nanna... she was a dressmaker who sadly i never got to meet... i was delighted to see that she had written on the back of the manual "(Exhibition) August 1989" - the place where she perhaps first looked at the machine or maybe even purchased it... it seems like such a nanna thing to do... i'm taking it to be serviced in the coming week and it pleases me no end that i will soon be sewing on her machine, hopefully some of her skills will rub off...

small things...

it's little projects that entice me at present...


peg dollies for little friends...

the joy of confetti...

i finally got around to trying my hand at making paper with confetti and waxed lunch paper... perfect for wrapping up little easter bundles... please don't laugh at me when i tell you that i did momentarily think about colour sorting the confetti for a more refined look... an idea that was quickly dismisssed as folly because surely to embrace the confetti-ness of this project is part of the joy...

update... this really is very easy, just position the confetti between two sheets of waxed paper (waxed sides together) place a teatowel over the top and gently iron together...

a gift...

from miss j, who has quite a talent for such things...


it's tiny, almost the size of a little matchbox...

what's inside you ask...


three little peas in a pod...

delightful, no?

thank-you all for your warm wishes for my blogging break,

it has been just the thing...

days...

"You will find that it is all very familiar...the strange and faraway places where you've never been. The wild unknown leads you to a place just around the corner. Take a picture when you get there...the road is you."

"The Road"

J.Bebe - R.Hammond

i read these words one day, they are written on the cover notes of a compact disc... the journey doesn't always take us where we expect, this i truly know... i remember a trip to the mountains... my baby looks all grown up in blue jeans and a piece of red plastic endlessly entertains my grown-up boy, it twists and turns and flutters to the ground...

we travel to the sea where we hold hands and walk across the sand... at night my head is filled with words floating in and out but when morning comes they are gone... although i love these autumn days i find myself impatient for spring, for new growth and silver linings...
but i will wait in this moment and take comfort in the motion of my hands,
in the rise and fall of my breath,
in the feel of fabric beneath my fingers,
in the sound of the world moving around me,
in the fall of my pen as it scratches across the page...