old is the new new

regimented, from photos by various brennemans.

I actually gave up my sleep-in this week to get to Camberwell market this Sunday gone by, this place is such a visual feast. I love the fact that you can find all manner of wonderful things there. I picked up an old sunshine biscuit tin painted yellow, my new favourite happy colour.

I bought a few other things in between mad dashes for cover under the awnings to escape the heavy rain. It's always a little intimate it seems when this sought of thing happens, perfect strangers strike up conversations about the "this mad weather were having" or the entertainment stay put in the rain and begin joyfully choral-ling "rain rain go away, come again another day", and we all clap and cheer when it does in fact stop. Then we all go back about our business, like it never happened.

My main reason for the outing to this wonderful outdoor market was to play with my new Canon 60D. Now I really need to actually have a few lessons on using this baby as there are so many settings and things have advanced greatly since using my old SLR. I did manage some ok shots. I wasn't quite sure if there was an etiquette thing related to carrying a tool like this. All my past photographs in public have been of buildings never before of people's things, so it seemed polite to ask if it was ok to take some pictures if they were around. I was on the tram last week where I happened to be near a guy with a camera, I wondered what he'd taken pictures of when out of the blue he took a picture of a girl in the set of seats ahead of us. It was obvious he was taking random shots not meaning to take her in particular, but I did think that took some courage on his part.

So my first attempt was at my favourite stall for the day they stocked the best assortment of buttons and thread. I just love this sort of thing en mass. I have been playing a little with the theme of multicolour. So this place was just fantastic for me. The gentleman was really nice and was really quite flattered that I wanted to take some shots.

My son and I actually bought some film this week, he was desperate to use my old camera. He had taken it down several times playing with the lens and pretending to take shots. He proclaimed after wearing it around his neck that he finally knew what he wanted to be: "a photographer." I thought to myself wow imagine if we really became who we wanted to be at seven.

I am still trying to find what I want to be at almost forty. I wish someone had shown me how to do really practical things at his age. I loved telling him all about how to focus how to read the light reading. He was fascinated by the fact that each shot will be an actual photo that will get printed. He was also quite blown away by the fact that you cannot delete shots as a result he is taking about one picture a week. He is normally so impatient so this is a great exercise in slowness.

It's also nice to show him the way we used to take pictures, so much has changed in the time I've had children, at the rate in which devices are being replaced and upgraded, I had been thinking that I was afraid for the printed word. Then, funnily enough and without any warning, when my husband left his job this week he was given a Kindle as a going-away present. They knew how much he loved books and that the new place was over an hour on the train each way.

I knew little about this product and just didn't like the sound of an "e book." Now Aaron is not shy about not opening a gift if he doesn't like it. Back to the shop it goes, straight to the exchange desk. Sometimes he's not even discreet about the not-opening: "Go on, take it out of the package!" "No, it's fine."

So when I was prying open the Kindle box yesterday I expected to hear 'don't touch that, I was going to take it back.' I mean he returned the cake decorating set he got at his last job, I expected the same here, especially how much he scorns "toys." He doesn't even have a phone.

But I was wrong. He is an avid reader and will be writer some day, so I trust his judgement on things like this: He loves it. He has already used it on his long train rides to and from work today. I am keen to see what this thing actually does, but he won't let me touch it.

Technology is just moving too fast, and damn they make these things look so sexy too. It is such specky marketing, all the more reason to not have one.

In the same vein I bought an old fashion typewriter last year, actually at the exact market mentioned above. I remember the delight and fascination this little typewriter bought to the kids, "It's so heavy" they all commented and "what are these letters" and "what's this tape thing?" I loved hearing them tapping away loudly. Almost daily someone will use it to write a story or make a diary entry, or Circe loves to get the keys all muddled together.

To me it's worth having these things in our lives, to value the way things were and to exercise a little simplicity, to tap away at old keys to have to focus your own photo to write a letter on paper.

I think this is why I also love sewing, there is something noble about these simple crafts which should not be lost.

23

23, by various brennemans.

cranky pants

apron string, by various brennemans.

I felt my motherhood mojo slipping away from me today. Forty degree heat for two days in a row is too much. And any night where the temperature does not dip below thirty is just awful.

I woke this morning feeling the way my husband looks every morning, bedraggled. He is a night owl, and often doesn't get to bed till two a.m. I feel like that that is his choice to some extent, his own fault if he's tired when the kids wake us. I, on the other hand, had good excuses for the way I felt. I've been getting to bed after midnight just to have some time to write to sew, to facebook, to blog.

The older kids have been getting to sleep as late as 9.00 or 9.30 these last few weeks, during school holidays. My ten-year-old lingers, trying to stretch it out, asking questions, wanting to talk. Now I love you honey but I am sorry, I don't want to see you at night. I have seen her enough all day. Does that make me a bad person? I mean aren't I entitled to be me, someone other than a mother, at night at least? If I went to bed when they did then I just wouldn't have any time to do the things I want to do.

This morning after Aaron left for work I wondered how long could I lay here, under the sheet? Would I move when I heard a chair drag across the terracotta floors in my kitchen, or the tinkle sound of plates being shuffled in the cupboard? Would that be too long, of course it would, but gee I wanted someone else to be me this morning: Someone else to take the baby off the chair for the fiftieth time, someone else to then take that chair and place it up on the table, someone else to turn to see her find another chair moments later.

My husband and I used to do the bargaining thing where we'd mumble from under the pillow "You go. I got up to give such and such medicine," or "No, you go, I was stuck in Eliza's tiny Ikea bed till five a.m. and couldn't stretch my legs out."

But that was then. Things have changed a little. Eliza, she's had a star chart for sleeping all night in her own bed, several weeks full of those now. In a rare streak none of the kids have been ill for a while. The husband snores happily. But I've had Circe teething, and I am still feeding her most nights, I am even sometimes going to Eliza when she calls out.

Then I am waking most mornings to them all, whilst Aaron sleeps an extra thirty minutes. On weekdays he even keeps the sleep face on while walking to the station in order to continue to sleep on the train, no fair.

I am mad, I know. I think I have reason to be and I hear you all nodding.

We have one designated sleep in day each his is Saturday mine is Sunday. He can sleep through anything. I can't. He gets two hours. I get less. He even gets in after me on a Sunday for another sleep! I am insane, I have been being really rather courteous. I am not too sure why when I am not getting eight hours yet in one chunk.

This morning I woke at five a.m. to feed Circe and then was back in there at six to give her another little cuddle. I'd also gone and given Eliza some comfort after she cried out at two a.m., only to be told that she didn't want me she "wanted Dad."

By ten a.m. when Circe began to look tired, worn out, irritable. Just like me. I wasn't the one on the floor whining, crying and intermittently sucking my thumb, not yet. I wanted to join her, but I knew we'd need to push on. I was looking after two other children today, and I knew she really only actually has one sleep these days. A quick mental calculation while dishing out the waffles showed that she if she slept then would be up at twelve if I was lucky and then be up for seven hours. The way I felt today a seven hour stretch of crying just seemed unimaginable. Her crying, me doing it seemed about even odds.

The last week or so she has gone from being relatively easy to being a lot of work. Ohhh the crying the second she's put down. I get afraid to let her see me when there is a period of quiet. When I can hear her in the other room with the others and they are rolling around and she is giggling I just want that to last, just till I finish these dishes.

I have been being a little selfish of late I think after almost sixteen months I can begin to be, actually on the whole after ten years I think I ought to be. I try to sew whist she naps, It's really hard to stop when she wakes from a nap, I want her to just play by my feet with some dominoes till I just hem up this dress.

I think the internet is a curse. One of my favourite bloggers, Soule Mamma, is always knitting with a child nestled to her bosom, he is not teary and crying or pulling thread from the machine like my little pitiful monkey who just wants Mum to look away from the sewing and give her all of her attention.

I can't even talk on the phone.

I know the time will come when the two of us can each do our thing, she some colouring and pasting me some sewing or just some dinner and some dishes so the house doesn't look like a bomb site. I know that she will someday move away from me, that like Eliza who is eager and ready to go off and be left alone at kindergarten on Friday this week. My last and smallest baby will let go of my apron strings and go off into the big wide world of friends, teachers kinder and school. I will then have all the time in the world and will probably pine these days of being needed and wanted.

miss adorable frock

Straight and to the point: The project! I'm trying to make everything in the "Sew La Tea Do" book. No particular order, just what strikes my fancy...

miss adorable frock

This dress was a delight to make, the instructions were easy and it was the first time I didn't have a melt down. It was also my introduction to front and back facing. Great way to learn on something this small. I did everything (laying out, cutting, sewing, and finishing) in one night while everyone slept.

My only compliant is that as a novice seamstress I wasn't to sure how to quite finish up the back facing area. The instructions in Sew la tea do kind of didn't explain how to neaten and finish. I worked it out and I think it came up neat and tidy.The pocket in the pattern was too small, totally unlike the generous pocket pictured in the book. I improvised.

Also the dress is really sized for a petite 3 year old, the pattern suggests it will fit a 12 month old to petite 4 year old. I have a petite 15 month old and it was way too big, perfect on my petite 3 year old though. Luckily I have all bases covered when it comes to sizes of children. Eliza just wears it as a top.

At first the dress did earn what was becoming a trademark "aaarghhh! I hate it!" from her. Maybe it's the fact that I am yet to actually wash the fabric before I sew it so she's probably just squirming in it feeling itchy. None the less her reaction is always a little disheartening.

I will report though that she has worn the dress three times so that's progress, and tonight while we walked on the sand she figured out she could put shells in the pockets!

friday still life

menu I, originally uploaded by various brennemans.

it was all yellow

There are a few things I am really loving at the moment, thought I'd share with you just what has inspired me and what I have produced as a result.

I am in love with Yellow, full stop. This colour was so overlooked by me, never got my love, now I want to be bathed, in it want to wear it, want to paint with it. Me and this new love took drastic measures to seal our commitment to each other: I painted a Ikea kitchen stool in Dulux's "Daffodil yellow."

Wow. I love it, the kids think it's awesome and it is certainly a pop of colour.

I am finding fabric so inspiring whether it be some new bargain ream of end of line floral blue, yellow and orange cotton or some old pillow cases with retro prints. Seeing my little baby's chubby feet poking out from some newly made yoga pants is too scrumptious, 30 pictures later and I think I may have one to share.

Receiving fantastic vintage buttons from Beatrix whilst she was away in Tasmania, we both adore buttons. I love the "will not be hurt by hot iron". I am imagining all the ways to use these blue buttons picked up by the friend she was staying with who knew about my obsession with old buttons.

Fabric bundles even made it to the eye level shelf in the dining area- sewing area

cookbooks were moved down a level, then My heart said "no", I love you both. So bundles ended up on top shelf where some precious things inherited from my mother in law were moved to a safer place. I put those in my glassed cabinet away from my climbing, scaling every surface baby. We are living at the moment with chairs on tables, it's just easier this way.

Making a fabric doll for Circe my baby out of scraps and then having Eliza claim it as her own. After all previous attempts from me to gain some of her love for my sewing projects have gone unappreciated and worse still been given the aaarrhhh. She even rejected the adorable Little Miss Frock in light blue polka dots with a deep pocket for stashing whatever a 3 year old stashes, usually their big sister's stuff.

I am loving pockets I want pockets on everything. When you're a mum there is always LEGO and pegs to pick up. I don't exactly know why pegs make the #2 most common item on the floor in my list of 100 most common found useful yet useless item when bunched with 10 other useful items. So I want everything I make to have a deep pocket, very useful when holding a baby for school pick up, keys can fit in front pocket.

Note my adorable patchwork pocket, see special projects for the disaster of pattern misprint resulting in a way too small dress for Me but fitting 10 year old daughter.

I am filling my recently meticulously scrubbed (thank you Aaron!) fridge -front with Eliza's amazing drawings, here she is at work. She spends and an hour and a half then takes a day or two break then wants to work on them some more her dedication and patience are awe inspiring

All my children are talented, Beatrix spent a day this week making a matchbox bed mattress, doona, and two pillows, for a tiny figurine she had bought. Her blanket stitch is fantastic she too is digging yellow.

Thought I'd share the little nibbles that keep me sane, while sewing. Quince paste on mini toast with leg ham, a square of dark chocolate ,ginger ale and cucumber slices maybe with a dash of pims depending on how indulgent I want to be or how many children I am looking after, and how frustrated I am by said misprinted pattern. Yes I ought to be pretty sloshed by the time I make that last stitch.

apricots, sewing delight, and a few late nights

'fo shizzle, from brenneman.

So after a several busy busy weeks of sewing I still had more projects to do. Each one I finished made two more open up. But that all of that had to wait because food and I needed to touch base again.

Wow. I have made rice paper rolls, spinach pilaf with lemon, we've made trifle (and meringues as you do after you make custard and end up with a whole lot of egg whites), we've had shepherd's pie, stewed apples, apricot couscous (with agave syrup). And, in attempts to distract phoenix from pancakes we've had crêpes. Again.

Some of the cooking was necessity, though. Our fruit trees are are beginning to bear down and drop a lot of fruit, so you have to work at the tree's schedule not your own. They're apricots, of which many have been shared. We can't make use of them all. Fruit leather has been made and eaten and more is being dehydrated as I write. This fruit leather is amazing, just cook it a little and then puree and spread out the puree on these special trays. Even Phoenix who doesn't like apricots will eat heaps of this.

Apricots also made it into the trifle by Aaron. He spent all afternoon on it, we watched it all pile together into beautiful layers. Then he took it to work and they ate it all.

The apple tree is beginning to litter the path with all of it's first not-so-good apples. There is a lot of clean up to be done with just these two trees, I won't even mention our enormous fig in the back yard which looks to give many fruits this year.

In amongst this and that, I was two children short for a while last week, that was different. Sewing was allowed!

I had sent my ten year old on her way to Tasmania on a Friday evening with a just-made pair of yellow pj botttoms, my new favourite colour.

My son then went camping for four days on the Sunday after, I remembered then what it was like with just two children. (It must be said though that a newly walking, climbing baby is like in five places at once so I think she made up for their absences.)

My nights came sooner. The bit of the night that is mine, that is. Sometimes I barely get any, but now there was no "I can't sleep" from my ten year old, no "Water, please" from the little one.

Ohhh the things I got done.

 the wrap skirt

My wrap skirt got finished, and that skirt is one from my special projects, so Yea! to me. I had real trouble at one stage trying to work out sewing the finished sides of the skirt. This book sometimes skips a step or two, but I wasn't sure. I looked and scratched my head and looked again, and pretty soon 45 minutes had gone by with me just standing there.

Aaron was laughing and cursing me to just do something, anything. He said it would be faster to do it wrong and unpick it than to just stand there. He eventually left me standing there with my head in my hands while he went off to read.

I cursed a little bit too, after he left. Bloody wrap skirt! I even gave a little stomp.

I was suddenly dumbstruck. Wrap skirt. I held it against me, and if I sewed the sides together it would be as big as a house. Wrap skirt, darrrhhh. So there was some unpicking and some "rahhh rahhh" going on, but I ignored him.

My only excuse is that it was 1:30 in the morning.

The next day my neighbour and I had a sewing afternoon at my place, that was such fun. Having someone else round seeing what they're making, getting help and giving advice, it's priceless.

This skirt got finished that morning. It did entail a waist band with a tie connected to it, this was "very long" as the pattern stated, but once done I felt like I'd really accomplished something. The instructions for the hem were a little odd, laying hemming tape over the raw edge and then just sewing over that 1 cm from the edge, mmmm not sure if there was an error there, I am guessing maybe.

My neighbour and I got to try on our new wares and even eat dinner out in the garden, she in her citrus toned patchwork belt and me in my orange and green wrap skirt, how perfect.

We thought of how we ought to get all our crafty neighbour folk in on our little sewing buzz and have craft night. Coming soon!