I need to make a blue stripey quilt. That's a painting, not a quilt (via apartment therapy long, long ago).
This wallpaper would look wonderful on the wall at the head of my bed. I think it's from Laura Ashley, who's no where near as prissy as she used to be.
Then there's this, a quilt I've made specifically to sell, but I'm not having much luck so far. Must try harder. Not that I'll mind if I have to hang it on a wall around here, because I'm a bit in love with it. It's raining, so the planned garden blitz isn't going to happen today. Instead I am off to try to excavate enough bare space in Jack's room so I can get ready to paint it. It's going to be black and white, with a few natural timber accents, and (one fine day), a neutral carpet. No other colour allowed, because that's the way he wants it. What colour makes you happy?
It's like this. I don't think I am looking after myself very well. Not well enough. Are you?
As much as I tell myself the numbers don't matter, the simple fact is that I am overweight. I know lots of you don't own scales, don't want to buy into the whole diet fiasco and blah blah blah...but let's face it, the best, easiest measurement is the bathroom scales.
When I bought my wetsuit 4 years ago, I weighed 75 kilos. I know this becos the (terribly charming) shop guy weighed me to help him figure out which one and which size to sell me. I was surprised by what was/is a low number. The wetsuit still fits me and I love it dearly. Never mind the fact that I look bloody awful in it!
I want to weigh less. Largely for the good of my heart, although past experience shows my weight hasn't had much effect on the scary blood pressure numbers, it surely must contribute. Part of my weight gain is about changed medication, but really, I want to get myself under control. Health is my major motivation, but there's no denying I'll look better too if I weigh less. I'm reasonably fit, I swim at least 3 hours a week, and I spend at least another 3 or 4 hours toiling away in my diy madness and making my garden manageable. I'm trying to make myself walk up the steep hill to home more often. Seems to me I need to eat better. Less refined carbs and much less sugar.
Anyway, I don't want to turn this into a weight loss blog, but my theory is that if I make the commitment here, and I report in every weekend, then I will have your support and I'll be motivated because I know you're watching. Easy, right??
I've been delaying posting this cos I want to post a graph recording my progress, but geez, that isn't easy with dear old blogger! So here're the stats. So far so good.
14 November 83.5 kg 7 November 84.2 kg 31 October 85.? kg
I can now count a handful of people I have cared about, who have died, in their forties, of cancer.
They were all parents. One of them wrote in a letter to everyone she had to leave behind, that although she didn't know what happened when you died, she intended to be in her childrens lives forever. It has been my pleasure to talk about some of these people with their children, and to tell them stories about their Mum or their Dad. There's a garden seat at the local school that I cannot walk past without giving it a pat, because I spent a lot of time sitting there one year, first with A, then with J, who both made supreme efforts to be there to pick up their kids at the end of the school day, for as long as they possibly could. Without exception, their children and their partners have, on the whole, thrived. Maybe suffering really does make you stronger.
None of these people were heavy drinkers, they were active, none of them smoked, including the lovely man who died of lung cancer. None of these people were careless of their health as AOF puts it so well. I have decided I must take a little more care with mine. I shall talk about that with you at the weekend.
Meanwhile there are little bloggy tributes moving me to tears all over the place, and Facebook is temporarily unbearable, because last week, the Editter died. I shall remember always her big beautiful heartfelt grin, her knack of making you feel important, and her story telling. I hope my path crosses with that of her gorgeous baby boy as he grows so I can tell him that too, but I have no doubt that he will know how loved she was, and how very much missed. Cesca has a lovely post with great pictures, and so does Martha. Cesca, I'm going to look you up next time I'm in Christchurch.
I have hung a picture of you and your boy above my desk dear Editter, to remind me, life is good and must be appreciated.
So meantime, could the rest of you kindly take care, keep well, okay?
and go tell someone this....(I can't find a good clip of Van the mans version, but this is a goody, though I like it better if I don't have to look at Rod!!)
Not so long ago, I was relaxing with youngest son in Surfers Paradise. I went to an internet cafe to check my email, and I don't mind telling you, the news there made me a little teary.
So now, two or three times a day, I think of The Editter. I take a breath, I smile a big smile (probably passing pedestrians think I'm mad, but what the heck!), and I say to myself and to her, Life is Good, Editter, life is good.
Go and cheer her on, and send some positive vibes her way. She's a damn fine writer, and she has a story to tell, and a bit of a journey to take us on.
Covered in cobwebs, and perfectly dry despite the heavy rain, Kitty turned up about 11pm. He'd obviously had a big sleep cos he wanted to play. He was hungry! Damned cat refuses to tell me where he'd been.
The good - I'm going to Brisbane on Saturday, with youngest son, for a week. It's 23 degrees in Brisbane today. It's 10 degrees in Wellington. I'm sure I can cope.
The bad - Kitty hasn't been seen for 24 hours. That's 3 meals he's missed. I want my kitty.
oops, I'm sorry, June seems to be missing. I'm terribly boring, all I do is work, and swim, and angst about my blood pressure (which can't be good for it, can it? actually it's the meds I angst about the most. Did you know more women die of heart disease than breast cancer? but I digress...), and work, and try not to moan about my sore back (actually it's much better thanks), and beg passing males to chop firewood for me, and well, work and work and (I love it really, don't tell anyone).
Turth is I haven't been moved to show you anything for absolutely ages (obviously), but look, look at this!!
Oh, I can't do any fancy linky thing, you'll have to take my word for it. Meryl Streep (doing that chameleon thing she does so so well) as Julia Child, with turkey, with it's legs spread. funny! go, go, see for yourself. be sure and watch the trailer.
Now, that reminds me. Have you seen this? Unmissble I expect, I suspect we should not expect it to captivate us like the book did.
But you know what? the one I'm really excited about.....well, it says embedding disabled by request so you'll have to go to the website and see. This is a book that anyone who has ever met someone aged under 5 must've read. It looks like a book made movie with extraordinary success. Everyone has a wild thing inside!
ali honey another outspoken female antipo desse cesca dyeing2design ellemae and ceejae flying kiwi the editter tiny happy two lime leaves wanda harland
I need to make a blue stripey quilt. That's a painting, not a quilt (via apartment therapy long, long ago).
This wallpaper would look wonderful on the wall at the head of my bed. I think it's from Laura Ashley, who's no where near as prissy as she used to be.
It's raining, so the planned garden blitz isn't going to happen today. Instead I am off to try to excavate enough bare space in Jack's room so I can get ready to paint it. It's going to be black and white, with a few natural timber accents, and (one fine day), a neutral carpet. No other colour allowed, because that's the way he wants it.
