One step forward, four steps back...

...to using up my stash.

I made this ("Remake One-piece")

from this book (ISBN 9784579111473) for MissM.

After reading Pip's post today, I hot-footed it to Spotlight, and came away with these two lovely Japanese fabrics. (The second one -- a nice soft cotton -- was only $6.99/m!!!)

I was surprised and really excited to unearth quite a lot of Japanese fabrics!!! Not only the lovely spotty Cosmo Textiles ones, but I finally found the gorgeous mushroom canvases, and some beautiful paisley prints on textured cotton.

AND they have a wide range of Clover sewing accessories. I have already bought a tube turner, a small rotary cutter, an iron-on transfer pencil, fine quilting pins (ace!!), and today added two yo-yo makers.

On Wednesday I also finally managed to drag my butt to Patchwork on Central Park, where I bought these two rolls of fabrics...yummy!

Flashback Friday (on a Saturday): Pop's Spot

Me and my Pop. My dad's dad. I was 13 months. I have always loved this photo -- shows a tenderness which I very sadly don't remember, but must be stored somewhere away in the depths of my heart.

I don't remember much of him because we left Poland when I was six (and they lived in another city, anyway, so we didn't see them often), but I do remember visiting their house and getting up at the crack of dawn as little kids are wont to do, and he, being an early riser, hanging out with me and making me breakfast and hot cocoa.

Good things

Some good things which have been happening around here lately...

Calico birthday kitty. My own pattern, which I will post soon for anyone who'd like a bash at her.

Drowning in oceans of strawbs'n'cream.

Bubble constellation in a pot in the sink.

Lilac on the windowsill.

Flashback Friday: Homemade

Christmas 1978. My mother dressed up as a homemade-and-not-very-convincing Santa, but I'll be damned if I wasn't fooled! Have a look at that joy!

We were in London that year, visiting my mum's sister and her English husband. They lived in a block of flats, and I remember making snowmen outside, and the exciting fact that my uncle worked in an ice-cream factory. I can still smell the frosty strawberry smell as I opened my favourite ice-creams.

The photo shows L-R: dad, me, mum/Santa, cousin Scott.

Flashback Friday (on a Sunday): My Crafty Nanna

I don't know if my nannas were crafty. I know my great-grandma was crafty (see this post), I know my mum is crafty, and I know my dad's mum baked a mean meringue, and my mum's mum was state Bridge champion, but I can't really post about a crafty nanna.

So, instead I will dedicate this post to my dad's gorgeous mum, and another post this week to my mum's gorgeous mum.

My beautiful grandmother Irena.

My grandma's name was Irena. She birthed and raised four boys, and was a fantastic cook. She loved animals, and adopted any injured wild animals which came her way. In the pic below she is chatting to an adopted bird. Dad tells me this bird came to visit regularly long after it had healed and gone "home".


She was a great drawer, and had planned on studying fine arts, but then she met my grandfather, got married, and had her four boys, so that was the end of that!

Proudly holding her first son, my dad, sometime in 1947.

She met my grandfather in 1943 in German-occupied Poland, when they were both working for the German Weigel Institute, feeding lice. Mmmm-hmmm, yep. The lice would be placed in a little cage, which would be applied to your leg, and the lice sucked your blood, after which some kind of crazy processes were carried out to obtain typhoid antibodies from the lice. This was one way of avoiding being rounded up and sent to labour or concentration camps.

Walking with a friend, 1941.

My grandma died in 1991, aged 71, from Parkinson's disease. We had been in Australia since 1982, so I hadn't really known her, but I know of her lovely character, and I remember those meringues!

On the left, with her mother and sister.

A Stick in the Mud

Horse racing is bad, hmkay?

Argument 1: Not it's not -- the horses love to run.

Counter 1: I'm sure they do, but I'm sure they'd much rather run just when they felt like it, not with some guy sitting on their back whipping their asses, and especially not on injured, strapped, steroid-injected joints.

Argument 2: Not it's not -- those horses are loved and are the best looked after horses in the world!

Counter 2: They are as well looked after as any material investment. But only as long as their material value holds out. If they don't win races, they're killed. That ain't love, folks.

Argument 3: No it's not -- it's great for the economy.

Counter 3: Our economy would be fine, just fine, without it.

Argument 4: No it's not -- going to the races is so much fun! I get to dress up and feel fancy, get a lil' drunk, have fun...

Counter 4: Can you do those things not at the expense of animals' wellbeing/life? Horses fall, break legs, and get shot while people are sipping (chugging) their champagne metres away. Please, how can this be justified? And they put screens around them if they have to shoot them. Why cover it up? Does someone feel uncomfortable about the fact that a big beautiful healthy animal is dying because they are there allowing this to happen?

There's no getting around the fact that horses do suffer for this industry, and this industry exists purely for humans' enjoyment. Nope -- I'd rather have fun somewhere else, thanks.

Besides, the "fanciness" of the races is a thin veneer. From what I have seen, most racegoers fall into the "trashy" category.