Blogtoberfestivities without pics, days 6 and 7...

Day 6 was a whirlwind of festivities. A barbie with friends, turned into a beer-hall event, with kids bringing the sandpit inside, and a menu BigCat will hopefully approve of. In the spirit of the festival that Is Blogtoberfest, we enjoyed:

Bratwurst
Coleslaw (Aussie version of saurkraut..)
Beers
and
Potato Salad.

Although there were no Lederhosen in sight, the ambience was certainly as German as we could muster, with two Celts, one convict-descendent, and some Welsh in the mix.

The day drooled on, with my girlfriend Shan and I going interstate for 3 hours of Spotlight - where my attempts at being restrained were quashed by my stash-building-desires...

Camera-less, post-purchase, I lost my bag of goodies somewhere in the chaos that is Spotlight. Bloody buggery bollocks - not happy Jan, etc.

Is your local Spotty chaotic too? Shan and I realised we've never been in an organised one! Adelaide, Queanbeyan, Sydney, Melbourne (both Box Hill and Bayswater), all in our experience messy and disorganised. We still love them though - what about you? (I know some who live in their local! ;-)

My lace is sadly neglected, however tonight is the night for some lace building, and I will post pics tomorrow of metres of completed lace (or a couple of rows of mistakes - much unpicked...)

Enjoy your day -

j

With apologies to Frank Sinatra and the Tarax ad...

That old Simplicity that I think is swell,
That old Simplicity others sew so well.
No darts, no zippers, no notions to be seen -
That Built-By-Wendy that looks like a dream!

That old Simplicity that looked like such a breeze,
That old Simplicity has me on my knees.
Elasticated sleeves don't suit my bulk,
And that green I've chosen - I look like The Hulk!

That old Simplicity will not have me stumped!
The ship may be sinking but I will stay afloat!
That four-piece pattern will come alive!
Yes that old Simplicity
three
eight
three
five!

j

Lace-along off and running (more like jogging, slowly..)

The pattern has been procured (different from that originally proposed, but less to think about, so suits me this time). This is a learning experience, and doing it this openly requires me to complete the task, or risk questions as to its progress (like those bloody socks - did I tell you I frogged the whole lot in exasperation?! Now I can't for the life of me remember how to start off again!)


Yarn drooled over, weighed up, considered and snapped up (that actually only took seconds).


Phone-call to Bells to check it was appropriate for the purpose (the shop lady cannot be relied upon - she sold me a circular needle to knit a pair of socks, and overcharged me for a clearly labelled ball of bamboo. Hence the golden rule with knitting and crochet: go to the top if you have any queries!)

Kids shooed away and bribed with a half cubic metre of sand to play in, so I could Cast On. Silk is a slippery little sucker, but at least my knit-along is up and running.

Want to learn lace along with the girls and I? Never too late to start. I aim to have this finished before 2009!

j

But wait, there's more! Blogtoberfest takes off!

Yesterday I eluded to the mystery that is The Basket. Today I proffer an explanation, albeit image-heavy.

My long-suffering hubby, Mr BB, patiently puts up with my hoarding. You see, the sewing room is the kitchen, dining room, and mainly our bedroom. This is what he wakes up to daily in our room:
My crap is everywhere...

The knitting is oozing out of its stash box (pitifully small, and I call myself a knitter?! Tosh!)


So then he comes downstairs, and wants to have breakfast, but has to fight through this (yes, there IS a ball of yarn next to the fruit bowl...):


I conceded that things were out of control, so agreed to at least try and keep all the fabric out of his way. Enter The Basket. Tardis extraordinare. It is rather large, larger than my coffee table, big enough to hold both kids and a blanket, or a shops-worth of fabric, craft books, patterns and trim. Home of The Stash. It originally came from Ma and Pa, and has been a toy box, a linen press, and has fulfilled other storage requirements, but now comes into its own. Wicker (my favourite), lidded, beautiful.


I have it packed in layers so I know where to find things. To share the stash this week with Mikes, I unpacked only The First Layer (spreading it over the entire surface of my bed, thus causing a raucus with Mr BB!!).








However, there is still so much to share! Look, we barely scratched the surface!


Stash all over the place to see - check out the blogroll of participants at Mikes.

j

Over-committed...

Sharing the stash, blogtoberfest, so much excitement - I forgot my own knit-along! Thanks Trashalou who has gently reminded me that the lace knit-along began TWO days ago...

Ahemm...

See you in a bit!

j

When stashing gets beyond a joke... Blogtoberfest chronicles

Stash. Noun. Plural, stashes. A collection, a reserve, sometimes hidden or secret. The verb is to stash.

What is the collective noun for those who collect fabric? I am one of them, and proudly so. I sew, sometimes, badly and passionately, always with purpose-bought fabric, never from The Basket. I mean really, I have Absolutely No Intention of ever using some of my faves. I couldn't cut them if my life depended on it. If I could quilt, then yes, I could conceivably make a quilt of all of them, but they would not all go together, and the mish mash would look revolting.


The idea of having a sewing room, where everything is neatly catalogued makes me drool, it really does. However I just can't seem to do it. For me, part of the Joy of Stashing is forgetting what I have, only to rediscover it later. Maybe this is from childhood?

For my whole life my Mum has had a large plastic bag full of her fabric scraps from the 60s, 70s and 80s. (Sounds like a radio station! Best of the 60s, 70s and 80s!)

I loved looking through this as a kid, and earlier this year became custodian of some of its contents. The highlights of which now grace my collection.


I have a habit that knows no self-control. No matter how many times I tell myself I haven't got the money for it, the collection grows. I accumulate. They plead to come home and live with the others... I mean, how many 30cm strips does a not-very-good-sewer need?! For one who doesn't quilt, I have the wrong collection.


Yes, they are Too Expensive Liberty prints. I used my staff discount to justify my purchase... Yes, my casual job is in a fabric shop, even being surrounded by over 2000 bolts of fabric hasn't got it out of my system...

I can't go past fabric in the oppy, and have lots that I can't bear to part with. There's also the fabric stash that masquerades as vintage linen, but is actually not used as linen... I also buy fabric for others though when I see it (daisies for Nicola, pinks and vintage here, brownie and guide here). I love supporting local and hand made.


Tomorrow I will show you The Basket, and actually share a post that is long over-due about my hoarding...

Until then - check out other great stash-sharers here!

j

Blogtoberfest, the stash, and magpie dramas

I signed up yesterday for a couple of little meme-types, Blogtoberfest with the delightful BigCat, and stash-sharing with Pip.

As I hung out the washing, listening to the sounds of the birds in the trees, kids on the trampoline, and some hoon on his motorbike in the park (!? true!), I pondered what my posts could entail.

Lost in my solitude and reverie, and CRACK - a magpie gave me a huge scare, grazing my cheek. I was, it is fair to say, rather shaken!

I was later having coffee, relaying this morning's incident to a friend who had had a similar encounter, when it happened again! Fair enough, we were in the Botanic Gardens, but I felt a rather Hitchcock-esque fear brewing...

At home, I convinced myself that things DO NOT happen in threes, they happen individually, just sometimes three individual things closely together...

I was entranced in an audio-book, tidying the kitchen, and absent-mindedly went outside to put out the rubbish. Less than 2 metres from the back door, and the now-familiar sound of flapping wings, and I ducked just in time.

Let's just say I am now completely paranoid.


Of course, Miss 2 chose thisabove title to read at bed-time, so now a good dose of inside, hat-wearing, stupid-looking-straws-in-my-hat seems to be in order!

It's all rather funny now after a lovely G & T, but I'm a little pooped.

Stash-sharing tomorrow! So much to show, so little time left! Warning that tomorrow will be one HUGE show and tell!!

j