Weta

See, a fine specimen. The question is, if I'm busy destroying the flax bushes they live in, where are they going to go? There are a couple of bushes left, and so far they've all been rehoused.

I'm losing weight, simply by unconciously undertaking all this extra activity. Gardening and throwing things away, and stripping walls and floors and shifting furniture and stuff. I can't eat enough. Youngest keeps telling me "you need to eat". Guess I get grumpy when the blood sugar runs low. My neighbour keeps making me cups of tea and tells me I don't have to do everything at once. I guess she's right. But I simply cannot stand it the way it is.

Someone came here for the first time a couple of days ago, and said some things, not in a negative way, but enough to make me realise this house wasn't saying much about me, or saying the things I'd like it to anyway. So I hung up Sunny today, and I think it looks great. Then I shifted my sewing out of the lounge and into my bedroom. Out of public and into a private space. Then I spent the day wondering why I felt that was so important.

I've always been a bit of a closet quilter. I've worked in male dominated fields, and I wouldn't have been seen dead with a needle or a quilt book in a work situation, especially in the 90s when my skirts were shorter and my hair was longer and blonder. I've rarely shown other people my quilts unless they were quilters too. While my CV quietly notes I am an award winning quilt maker, I've never celebrated those awards beyond my quilting community. Why don't I have more confidence in sharing my work?

Come see my lounge now, and you will notice there is art on the walls.

I made it, and it's beautiful.

I'd show you a lounge picture, but the camera battery is low. It's full of pictures for a stop motion animation production. The lego guys are reading the news now. Then Beckham, Elton John and a famous chef stop by to be interviewed. There's art all over the place in this house!