The foody post

There were some memorable meals on my US sojurn. In Menlo Park (which is close to San Francisco but is a whole other place) I had the best Indian takeaways I've tasted. Really. They probably came from Palo Alto, nearby. We went on the beautiful drive to Napa Valley, via Pete's coffee in Berkley (I was so spoilt!). We saw a beautiful olive oil shop in St Helena, up the highway from Napa. They had tiny cubes of bread and little bowls for tasting. Lovely infused oils and vinegars. It was lots of fun tasting them all. Almost every store seemed to have a 'help wanted' sign. Plenty of jobs going......
This is my very decadent chocolate kahluah cheesecake, enjoyed at the end of a long lunch with fleagirl. Couldn't eat it all. You must go visit her and read about the tour of the San Francisco seafood spots that she took me on. It was a great day, we laughed a lot. (I'll tell you more about the people later, they need a post of their own!).

I had some great diner breakfasts in New York. Dreadful coffee, as everyone warned me, but some great eggs and bacon and fried potato things. I love going out for breakfast. In New York there was also dinner in china town, in a restaurant that had a little english on the menu in it's window. Lots of fun, plenty of stories and laughter, and the best tofu I've ever had. It was perfectly silky, with chilli flakes, and just the right amount of green! We had a sweet and sour pork dish, and beautiful, beautiful eggplant and peppers stuffed with a shrimp mixture. It was fantastic.Look, I found some crab in New York! This was a sneaky picture taken at Whole Foods in Chelsea, New York (near the quilt store). They had cheap NZ Lamb in there. I thought the store was beautiful, but it wasn't organic produce like I know it. The organic fruits and veges looked very processed to me, I'm used to associating organic with produce that looks like it came off a tree in the backyard. Lumpy and bumpy and irregular, like it ought to grow. They had a beautiful bakery, but it was the crab that was hard to resist.

I had a hot-dog from a stand in Central Park. It felt kindof compulsory. It was dreadful! I had a hamburger in a cafe which was huge and delicious. I did have some good coffee in a french cafe near Washington square, and I managed not to set foot in a Starbucks. Oops, no, that's not true, I went to one in the Rockerfeller centre. Far too busy with far too much to do to spend much time sitting still in cafes or restaurants. I did rip an apple cake recipe out the New York Times in a cafe at JFK airport though. I hope no-one noticed.

On and on

I broke the lawnmower blade.
The cricket loving boy had a massive tantrum and refused to go.
The ex has got a girlfriend.
One of my favourite colleagues has resigned.

Oh well.
It's fixable. It's over now. I must reap what I sow. He'll keep in touch.

Which second sentence goes with which first sentence? Life goes on.

The trouble with travelling is that you have to come home. I've been amazed to realise how much of me is used up by work and kids. By just doing the things I must do. I'm still okay. It's still hard work being okay. Does it get better, or do I just get used to it?

Yep, more travelogue to come.

The New York Quilty Post

I flew into New York on the night of Halloween. The train rides from JFK airport to my Jersey City hotel were particularly memorable. I was just about the only one on the subway not in costume, and not headed for the parade in Greenwich Village. I had a great time on that little journey. People were friendly, chatty, fun, and sober....or they had me fooled. "Where you from, you not from round here" "Nooooo Zealand, howabout that".

The next day I walked the length of Broadway, and took myself to the American Folk Art Museum to an exhibition of antique quilts titled A Legacy in Quilts: Cyril Irwin Nelson's Final Gifts to the American Folk Art Museum. They were extraordinary. Worth my trip. Really. Many were familiar, I'm sure they've been much photographed, and I've probably seen them before. To get so close, to such works of art, of such great history. Well, I enjoyed them enormously. This was one of my favourites. You can see more on the museum website.

Then I went to meet Mary. I was late, I got the subway in the wrong direction. Didn't make that mistake again. Anyway, Mary kindly loitered and eventually spotted my lime green bag, so we had coffee and talked and talked and walked off to a lecture she'd heard about. We went to the Fashion Institute of Technology, to see Kaffe Fasset.

Kaffe was promoting his new book, which is about knitting. He's a great speaker, the slides he showed were extraordinary. I confess I've seen him speak before, here in Wellington, but I enjoyed seeing him again. His messages remain the same....colour, glorious colour.....and just do it, focus, and get on with it. Yes sir, doing my best. Mary wrote about it here (scroll to Nov 6). And Kay wrote about it here (scroll to Nov 2). The next day we three went shopping. I met them here:

(after I spent the first part of the morning taking myself up the Empire State Building. Well, me and 100 other tourists).

I bought this book. This wonderful, beautiful, heavy book. It's here on Amazon of course. I can't recommend it highly enough. It has quilts from 10 years of the Quilt National exhibition. It's just beautiful. And it has lots of the quilts I saw in San Jose, so that makes it even more special to me.Then we went to Soho, to Purl. Ahhh, Purl. First, the yarn store, where Mary and Kay bought beautiful things and I took photos. Kay interpreted for French tourists also buying yarn. She should've got a commission I reckon.

And Purl the fabric store, just up the road.....both very small stores, but perfectly formed. You haven't heard of them? You're not reading enough crafty blogs then. Here's the link to their blog. You can find their online store via that link. Yes, I bought fabric this time, pinks, chocolates, and teal/duck egg blues. Beautiful. Soho is where I'm going to stay next time I'm in New York.

The San Francisco quilty post

I had Saturday 27 October twice. Once in NZ flying out of Auckland on an 8pm flight. It was fun to meet some old friends in the departure lounge, on their way to NYC to run the marathon. In San Francisco I had another Saturday. J picked me up at the airport at about midday. J is one of my email buddies, we recognised each other instantly. It was like seeing an old friend you hadn't seen for a year or so. Easy, relaxing, heartwarming, lots of non stop conversation. It's a real joy to have friends who welcome you into their home.

J whisked me off to the San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles. (Driving on the wrong side of the road. Oh my!) It wasn't a big gallery, but it had an important exhibition titled Saturn Returns: Back to the Future of Fiber Art, to celebrate its 30th Anniversary. I saw this!

Constructions 77 Nancy Crow

There were also memorable quilts by Susan Shie, and Ruth B. McDowell, Katie Pasquini-Masopust, Yvonne Porcella....lots of famous names. Side by side! I tried hard to behave, but it's quite possible I grabbed J's elbow and said "oh my stars" in a very gushy voice. Quite possible.

The next day we went to do all the touristy things in San Francisco. (Another post!). But she also took me to Britex fabrics. 4 floors of beautiful, perfect, fabulous fabric. The website is beautiful, you must go look.

The shop guy made me take a picture with him in it!

Can you believe I didn't buy anything there? No, nor can I. I was completely overwhelmed, I couldn't make a decision. A couple of fabrics linger in my memory. I should've bought them. Perhaps it was jet lag. But now I know Britex exists, and they have that wonderful website.....well, I'm making no promises.

Yes, I am home

No, I don't know that guy, but he wasn't moving!

I know, I need to tell you all my stories....I think there'll be a whole series of posts. See, I'm full of promises.

I spent 4 nights in San Francisco, and 4 nights in New York, and I met up with lots of friends and saw all the famous sites. I loved it. I had the best time. The best.

The Love sculpture is in New York on the corner of 6th and 55th. I was there. I can hardly believe it. Travelling does nothing to ease the wander-lust does it?

No more sleeps

Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today.....

I'm going to San Francisco today. Well, late this afternoon. Can hardly believe it. Now the essay is done, work is over for a week and a half, and I've decided to flag the swim training session this morning (oohhh naughty), let me tell you about it.

I'm an internet junkie from way back. Bless the Smithsonian for putting pictures of their quilts on the net in 1994, it's all their fault. I'm typical, I'm told, because women like me quickly adapted to email, because of the networking thing. Well, yeah!

In 1996 I was pregnant with Edward (who was supposed to be Emily!). Hoorah! I was working full time, and I had a 2 year old, so I guess I wasn't seeing too much of other mothers. I remember feeling tired and stressed. I got onto a mailing list (nope, don't remember how....) of women who were also pregnant and expecting babies at the same time. We were from all over the world. I often had email conversations with Fiama in Florence, Italy at 9pm my time when she was just finishing breakfast. There was someone from Singapore (Rita?) and a lovely woman who lives in Sydney, but most of my new found correspondents were from USA and Canada. There were some falling outs.....oh, email flaming was rife, but the hurt was genuine, and offshoot groups moved into new lists, eventually finding a home in a Yahoo group. We're still talking, a smaller group of us, and there's a new message on the list just about daily. As you'd expect with a bunch of women, there've been more births and some sad and shocking deaths. We've stuck together through divorce and new marriages, major illness and scary accidents, through tiny triumphs and big milestones. This group of women has been one of the constants through my last 11 years, and they have moved me to laughter and to tears. While the focus of the group was to talk about the kids, as they've grown, the discussion has ranged away from them more and more. Teenagers and men in the lives of these lovely women would be horrified to know some of the topics of conversation!

So, I'm going to San Francisco today, to stay with one of these friends, and tomorrow we'll be joined by a few more. Then on Wednesday, I'm off to New York, to meet up with even more, and some of the 10 year olds too.

There have been some negative and viscious comments made to me about taking this trip. Of course, there are many more sensible things I could be doing with the money I'm spending on making this connection, particularly at this interesting point in my life. But what the hell. Life is short, and difficult. I'm going to celebrate these friendships while I can. New York has been calling to me for many years.....so I'm going to check it out. These people aren't strangers, they've been my friends for 11 years. I've worked hard and saved hard. Nay-sayers be dammed. I've got my credit card and my passport, a list of phone numbers and addresses.......I'm off!

One lovely friend predicts I'll be having adventures with a fireman or policeman in New York. Another reckons I'll be shipped off to Guantanamo Bay and he won't be seeing me for years. Hmmmm. I'm going to a quilt museum in San Francisco, and having a long hard look at the water between the mainland and Alcatraz. There's an ocean swim race there every year.......

There's a new exhibition of antique quilts at the American Folk Art museum, and I've promised Edward photos of Strawberry Fields in Central Park. I'll be the one with the lime green bag and the big grin.

See you in about 11 days.

Yes

Dear internets

I am sorry for neglecting you. I've read all your news and enjoyed your emails. I have written 3204 words of my last essay (yes, the LAST essay), and it just needs tidying up and some reference checking etc etc. The boring bits. I keep thinking how wonderful it will be to have this over with.....and then I remember I need to get on with it, so it will be over with, if you see what I mean. Anyway, it will be over with tomorrow, I reckon, even if I have to get up really really early, and go to bed really really late!

Look, there have been things going on while you weren't looking.

There was the sunrise, a week or so ago. Beautiful. Wellington days often start out gloriously at 6 or 7am and then deteriorate. Been happening a lot lately. But last weekend the sun shone and the wind blew from the right direction and I swam around the lighthouse, two days in a row. Yes, with a bunch of other mad people. Now, that was good. That was really good. Took about an hour. Will be aiming to do it (it's 2.8 k) in less than an hour. I'm going to swim across Auckland harbour at the end of November. I am! So, lots of training required. I'd show you a picture of the route, but the links aren't working. Have to take a picture myself.

I enjoyed the last of the daffodils. Arent' they pretty?

I've been making risotto. Leek and mushroom this one, dairy free, lots of good vegetable stock and white wine. Yum! I like making risotto, I like the contemplative nature of all that stirring. Especially with good music playing (loud), and a glass of wine in hand. Come visit sometime, you can talk to me while I stir.

I've been working my butt off too. I went to..........and met with............I even answered a few questions from.............I've written so many...........and helped coach.........then watched...........on tv. High excitement. Oh you'd be so proud dear internets! Can't tell you though, can I? Cos we don't blog about work. No, we don't.

Only 3 sleeps til I'm off on my adventure. San Francisco and New York. Little me! In New York! I'll stop by and tell you about that before I go, because that's worth a post all of it's own.

Yes, I am going to finish the encyclopedia of me. I've got it all worked out. There's u, v, x, y and z to go. Hmm, guess that'll be the November posts taken care of. There are quilts involved, I promise!

Oh, and men? Weird. Don't understand them. Going back to not even trying. And that's all I'm saying.

love Pixie

xxx

I'm in a hole

It's dark in here. Lonely too. Bugger it.
Hang about while I figure out how to get out. I know, I'll finish the essay, then I'll go to San Francisco and New York. And remind me not to talk to my Mother for a while will you?
That oughta work.

Let me just record a few moments that've made me smile of late:

• I sent a text to the Saggitarian one night while I was at the bus stop. "why do buses always come late?" I asked her, just to pass the time. "perhaps they haven't met the right passenger yet" she replied. I laughed out loud. on the bus. shocking. probably scared someone.
• School holidays. rained continually. Oldest was mellowed out on the sofa, listening intently to the Frank Zappa cd he got from the library. He enjoys the weirdness. His little brother, appalled at the music, was under the kitchen table holding up signs saying "on strike". I just live here, okay?
• All Blacks vs France playing loud on the radio at reception at the pool. A few of us fresh from the sea on the way to a hot shower. Stopped to listen with about 10 others, in various states of dress, from the gym and the pool, halfway up the stairs, leaning on the desk, all absolutely focused on the commentary. Radio is so great.

I'll be back, thanks heaps to those who've cared to ask where I am, or in some cases, demand that I get blogging again...which is probably the same caring kinda thing.

Wearable Art

Ah, who says the alphabet has to be in order? Things are a bit busy around here, school holidays, next essay due-date looming, swimming a lot and wearing myself out, working working working.......

I didn't want you to miss out on these.....

http://www.tv3.co.nz/VideoBrowseAll/EntertainmentVideo/tabid/312/articleID/35242/Default.aspx#video

http://www.tv3.co.nz/VideoBrowseAll/EntertainmentVideo/tabid/312/articleID/35164/Default.aspx?articleID=35164#video

The Supreme Award winner, Rattle Your Dags by Paula Coulthard and Ursula Dixon of Auckland, who were first time entrants.

The show was superb, and that Supreme winner really did stand out. I'll be back, soonish, with U and V!

T is for tickets

I've got tickets.
For the World of Wearable Arts show, next week. Yeehaaa! (So now you know what "W" will be!).
For Wellington-Auckland-San Francisco-New York-Los Angeles-Auckland-Wellington, at the end of October. Oh my gosh. I can hardly believe it.

Introductions

Sagittarian, meet Islay Girl.
Islay Girl, meet Antipo Deesse.
Antipo, meet them two. You can probably introduce us to someone else.

Really, you three have the same wicked sense of humour. And you all have daughters. I reckon you'll get along. Just don't forget it was me who introduced you.

Ss

Silver. My silver charm bracelet. A treasure.

The crocodile and the thong were bought on a trip to Darwin. The 'thong' was a joke with a colleague. "What's the dress code?" I asked. "Oh pretty casual", he said, "but no thongs". "Do you know what a thong means to me?" "No", he said, "I don't think I want to". We laughed and laughed. The thistle came from Edinburgh, and the three monkeys (see no, hear no, speak no evil) a souvineer from someone elses travels.

Here's the kitten J bought for me when my cat got run over (oh, Flossie!), E for Edward, and that beautiful steam train I bought in Adelaide. The thimble was a gift from my Mum, and the stein came from Munich of course.
The shell is from Gisborne, reminding me to be thankful, after a horrific car accident from which everyone recovered, the London bus was a gift, and there's J for Jack. Can you see the four leaf clover, horseshoe, and wishbone? A lovely gift from my Mum. The turtle is from London, he has a top hat and a cane. There are bagpipes there, from Sterling in Scotland, when you open them up, there's a dancer inside. There are some lovely Aussie souvineers there too, including a map of Australia, which was a gift, along with a Tasmanian devil (yep, I know one of those!), a cockatoo, and a boomerang, because I wanted to go back. I had a Eiffle Tower, and a white tudor rose I that bought in York, but I lost them in the sea in Corfu. Bugger it.

I've been a lot of places I guess, but there's still room on there for a Statue of Liberty, don't you think?

3211 words

Here I am, up until midnight, trying to make sure I've got the references detailed correctly. Ooops, just realised I haven't put them in alpha order, and I need to go back through the document to make sure I have the dates right for each of them. Lordy. I don't do attention to detail well enough to be an academic. I don't see a Ph.D in my future. But it's a nice little essay, really it is. I just need a 'pass' right? I'm late with this one. It will be handed in 2 days late. Can I get away with that, do you think?

Did you see this (Anita Roddick). Sad. I have my doubts that she was the saint she is portrayed to be, but she certainly worked bloody hard, and did her best to make fair trade deals. Far too young to die. You never can tell. You must eat, drink, and be merry. Hard though it is, at times.

and this . Madeline's parents are suspects? Her blood in their car, long past the date she went missing. WTF? It better not be true, for they will surely be lynched if they're guilty.

1006 words

1006 words. I knew you'd be pleased.
Can I have a fiddle with my blog now? I'd like to make a 'quilt' category, so I can visit them all at once..........
Oh all right, not til the next 1000 words are done.

I'm writing an essay. In the study with the view. The sun is shining, although the wind is up, and there's the usual parade of runners and cyclists, little kids with their parents and older couples out for their constitutional. I like seeing them all. I know not everything will be as ideal as it appears, but it's nice. People enjoying each other, and the coastline. But today a car has stopped and a woman has got out and paced up and down the fenceline, while a man stands gesticulating. I turn on my radio so I can't hear them, but the tension in the air is overwhelming. She puts her head on her arms, leaning on the fence. He stands, unmoving, a pace away from her. I notice he doesn't touch her. He drove away. I don't know where she went. The divers have moved 300m from where I first saw them. Flippers in the air, a floating box, for their catch I guess. There are lots of them today, probably because soon it will be a marine reserve, and there'll be no gathering of kai moana allowed. I'd love to join them. A red haired dad strides by, with his red haired son on his shoulders. I hope that woman is okay, but I guess not. Ahh, life.

I'll get back to the essay I guess. 300 words. 2,700 to go. My back hurts, my concentration gone.

Retro

It took me a while to think of a suitable R. Until I went shopping for sewing patterns.

A little Christmas party dress perhaps?

Or this one, for a luncheon party?

Oh, Boss, about that pay rise...... That little black one would work wouldn't it?

That's my favourite. The blue one with the long sash. I could sashay about in that someplace, couldn't I? With the caplet of course. I live in Wellington after all.

Yep, I'll make me one of those, just as soon as I get the 18 inch waist sorted.

Quilt of the day

Q had to be quilt, of course. This is Out of the Blue from 2001. It won a blue ribbon at the New Plymouth National Quilt Symposium. That was exciting. I love that cool, clear sky blue.

Ohh, there're some lovely curves in this quilt. It's nice to see it again. It's a shame I keep so many of them rolled up (carefully) and hidden away.

oops, I'm sure I told blogger to make the pictures smaller, but they're refusing. It's a mystery to me.

Pp

Sometimes, in my world full of sons and the male dominated world I work in, I feel the need for a little something pretty. I whipped this up, it was supposed to be a speedy quilt, for me, at the same time I made the fleece backed quilts for the boys. In the spirit of use-what-you-have, I hand-dyed the border fabric one quiet afternoon. I pieced the back from bits of stashed fabric, and an old curtain. I even pieced left over cotton batting together 'til I had a piece big enough. Then I thought I would quilt it heavily with a quarter inch grid. I soon realised the folly of that, it would take forever, so I stuck to a quarter inch diagonal line. Somewhere along the way, the lines developed a curve, and of course, each row magnified the curve a tiny bit more, and now the quilting looks horrible. The quilt is creased in the photo from being folded and left neglected in a corner. But now that I've got it out again, I realise I really do love it. I call it the virginal quilt, just quietly. Well, if I'm going to be sleeping by myself, I might as well sleep among flowers. I can't imagine inviting any man to join me under it, it's far too pretty for that!

P is apparently also for perfectionist. Because that quilting is going to be unpicked, and I'm going to start again.

See, the back is pretty too.

Older

I'm officially older today, and hallelujah to that!
Last week was all about work, long hours, major stress and huge milestones met. It felt great, when it was over.
There were drinks at a good bar after work on Friday night.
Dinner with my boys at an Indian restaurant.
A pile of presents I opened when I got home....ooohhh thanks!
Today I'm swimming for the first time in a few weeks. Hurt my back, and the osteopath said don't swim. Back in the water this morning.
Then, breakfast with the swimmers.
Lunch with J.
Dinner with AOF at a Japanese restaurant.

It's going to be a lovely day, full of great people and good food.
I'm 46. I know! You thought I was only 45 didn't you!
Older, wiser, and doing okay. Yep.

Never

Never say never...

Men?

Well, there’s the one that’s most definitely over, and considering how easily we’ve slipped into new roles shared-parenting, living separately, yet remaining civil, I was right. It was most definitely over. Then there’s the one that chose to turn his back on something I'm pretty sure he also found quite extraordinary, because he thought he should ..... so there he is, back in the bosom of the fundamentalists. Coward. Then there’s the out-of-town someone I know through work who calls me once a month or so, after hours, for a long lovely chat, but turns down my suggestions that we have a drink or dinner when he’s in town. Chicken. Then there’s the one who seems quite wonderful, if we forgive him for being Australian. Oh, but he lives in Australia. Which is too damned far away.

Men? Nah, not at the moment, thanks.

Library

from the outside, looking in

I love libraries. The Wellington City Library is a beautiful modern building, full of light and air, a fine collection of clocks, an excellent cafe and even a basement carpark (someone kissed me once, for the first time, in that carpark). There are books in there too. I've made regular trips to a few suburban libraries around town, but the City library has my heart. I've been taking the boys there, well, since they were born, and they still think it's a treat to visit. They've grown from the ground floor preschool picture books to the childrens books, to young adults and now to the first floor where there are graphics arts, architecture and music books. The craft collection is extraordinary. I've spent a lot of hours there. I guess I'll spend a whole lot more.

My favourite thing about this lovely building are the Nikau Palms that march around one side of it.

Here's Jack, a few years ago, inside that window you were looking in.

Now, that'll make a few Wellingtonians homesick I suspect!

Kiss

The Kiss, by Rodin. You know him, The Thinker is his too. You can see them both, at the Musee Rodin, in Paris. A comparatively small, not so crowded gallery, in a beautiful garden. This was one of the most memorable works of art I saw in Europe (a long long time ago). It's incredibly sensual, and the photograph doesn't do the detail justice. But such passion.....ahhhhh.....

J is for Jack

J is for Jack. He’s 13. Sometimes I don’t understand him at all, at all. He loves his computer, sleeping in, potato chips (chippies, crisps, whatever you call them), his mother’s roast chicken and his very few friends that’ve been a tight unit for years now,He’s into computer animation. They swap funny, clever “Flash” files and critique each others work with humour and honesty. Teenage boys are great fun. They’re so funny! They laugh all the time. I love having the house full of them, but it doesn’t happen very often. They prefer to ‘talk’ via their computers rather than be in the same room.

Jack is fiercely intelligent with a huge imagination. His primary school teachers thought that was fantastic, to be celebrated. His secondary school teachers? Not so much. You know that boy in the media? The one who doesn’t do well at school, compared to the girls? The one who cruises through school doing just enough to get by? He lives here. He effortlessly gets excellent marks on tests, but never does his homework. I don’t like all the loud attention the issue of educating boys gets in the media. And I loathe the stereotype that says boys all need to be active and must play sport. What kind of message does that send these lovely young men? They’re not expected to excel at school, all the information says they won’t. So why bother?

I hope he keeps fighting against the mainstream, laughing and putting his own quirky twist on things. But don’t tell him I said that.

I is for Inspiration

I’m not a quilter who struggles for inspiration. I either want to be sewing or I don’t and I don’t let it bug me. I’m a go-with-the-flow kinda girl. I’m not getting much inspiration from quilt books or magazines these days. I’m daydreaming about colour and colour combinations. Look at that cover, silver and lime. Wow! This is the only magazine that I let myself buy these days, and I find it very inspiring. It comes from Australia. This is the current issue, which I haven't seen on sale yet.

There’s a quilt idea in that stripy rug. I love the colours, they'd go well in this house.

Hello

Hi, I’m Helen. (I chose the most flattering pic I could find, of course).
I notice as my blog gets older, I get less concerned about the anonymity factor. I notice that happens a bit in blogland, there are pictures of the bloggers and more and more often as people, well, crafters, go into business, they publish their name and their address too. Are we getting slack? Are we weighing the risks of identity fraud and harm to our children, and deciding we don’t need to be anonymous? It would gag me too much I think, if more of you knew exactly who I am. So I won’t tell you my surname, and I guess you could probably figure out where I work, but I’ll keep trying not to talk about that either.

H is most definitely for Helen. You can call me Pixie around here.

I went to the Theatre

I interrupt the Encyclopedia to tell you I have been to the Theatre. Yes, Theatre, with a capital T. The Royal Shakespeare Company, King Lear, Sir Ian Mckellen as Lear. It was extraordinarily wonderful. It was funny and violent. There was passion and grief by the bucketload. It was 3.5 hours long, but it simply flew by.

There were some glorious little bits of business that I loved....the opening scenes of dividing the kingdom with Lear reading badly from cue cards at a lecturn.....Regan's fondness for a 'drop'. She took a goblet of wine at every opportunity, which set her up for her eventual poisoning very cleverly.....Lear and the Fool had a running gag going tweaking each others noses....and bawdy moments too....Lear nudging Goneril's husband suggesting it was time she was pregnant, Regan spreading herself across part of the crumbling scaffolding to seduce Edmund, and yes, Lear dropped his trousers in a moment that was completely appropriate, and more shocking for the graphic illustration of the madness than for the nakedness itself. The storm scenes were fantastic, real water raining on Lear and the Fool and Mad Tom. Lear's "Blow wind and crack your cheeks, rage, blow" gave me goosebumps.

Sylvester McCoy plays The Fool, maybe you know him as Doctor Who. He played the spoons, sang and made mischief and told those truths of his with great energy. They hung him, front of stage, and left him hanging, while the lights came up for interval and we went to buy icecream. The 'body' was collected with dignity while we watched and chatted. So clever.These scenes, Lear with Gloucester (William Gaunt) were haunting. Two greiving, broken old men. The Edgar/Edmund story was rich and strong, I thought someone would get hurt in the swordfight. Mad Tom (with a bit of a Gollum feel about him) was wonderful. They got a standing ovation. There were hoots and hollers as the top ten (or thereabouts) took their bows. There was serious feet stamping for Sir Ian. He is beloved by Wellingtonians after living here for a year filming Lord of the Rings. I hope the riotous reception he got at the end of the show reminded him of that. (The pictures are from the RSC website).

I've been disagreeing with reviews by the Dominion Post's Laurie Atkinson for over 20 years now. How does one become a theatre critic that so dominates this little city? Anyway, today's review is another I disagree with. The set, the rain, the Fool....they were magnificent. I had high expectations. They were exceeded.

Picture from the Dominion Post

There was another class act in Wellington on Saturday. Tana Umanga played his last game for Wellington. Famous for keeping his family out of the spotlight, he was joined on the field after the game by 2 of his children. In his farewell speech he spoke of the need to protect our children, of how he could play hard rugby, but he could also go home and love his kids. Just a very few, carefully chosen words. Very classy. Kia ora Tana.

Golly

Let's talk about Gollies. I've got two more, and I'm getting on with this post rather than stress about not being able to find them. The missing gollies are hand knits, from school galas. The bow tie boy above was a gift to Jack when he was born, and the hand made one on the right was a birthday gift to me. (Thanks again J!!) He is made by Pam Lorimer, a very talented local doll-maker. He came with his own quilt, which is around here someplace. See how he is clutching his own tiny teddy? I love his elegant fingers, his wild hair, and his funky blue/black socks.

Ohh, look. These guys are for sale here.

I had a treasured Golly as a little girl. I called him my walligog (apparently!). I have some old Noddy and BigEars books that belonged to my mother as a child, and my favourite features a naughty golliwog story. Sometime in the eighties, naughty Mr Golly was declared racist and disappeared from the Noddy stories. Noddy and Big Ears weren't allowed to spend the night together any more either as I recall.

Here's a Golly quilt, called "Golly Gosh". You can buy the pattern here. Gollies seem to be popular in the Australian quilt making world.

Are they racist? Well, I can understand they may be seen this way, so we'll definitely call them gollies, and not gollywogs. For me they are a much loved childhood memory, and you should know that I don't have a racist bone in my body.

F is for ...

Fabric of course!

Here's how most of my stash is stored, in plastic covered wire drawers, which are strong and light and easy to see through. For years they have lived in an old oak wardrobe, but when I moved I left the wardrobe behind. I'll reclaim it when I have to relocate again. It keeps the fabric out of the dust and our harsh NZ light that fades and weakens cotton fabric very quickly. The drawers fit perfectly with some space in the middle for a stack of plastic drawers that hold tread and notions. I love that cupboard. These drawers are sorted by colour, believe it or not. About half of them hold blue! They're a little untidy at the moment. There are 6 sets of 3 drawers and in my head I try to keep the stash around that size. In reality, well......I think the fabric reporduces itself. But never in the right colour.

I've been messing about with fabric ever since I can remember. I come from a long line of knitters, but I've barely touched knitting needles.

E is for Edward

Edward = sunshine.

simple as that.

Dd

I've spent far too long dithering about D, so best we move on quickly.

There're daffodils of course, my favourite flower.
I thought about photographing dolls, the dolls I played with as a child, true 'vintage' they are, from the days long before Barbie reached these shores....lovely dolls with beautiful dresses. Not in the mood to dig them out and arrange them to show you though. Some other time.

So here, some of my favourite 'd' blogs. One of these has over 2200 bloglines subscribers, and one has 22.

dear megan

Deborah's Journal

Design *Sponge

Dioramarama

disdressed

Doll

dolliedaydream

domesticali

downunderdale

and here's baby Dylan. Delicious!

C is for Crochet

It's a blanket.

But don't hold your breath.

Well, you know.... everyone else was doing it.

Actually I ripped this one out, and started again. It needed to be smaller. You know, so that it took me less than a week to crochet half a row.

B is for books

Books. Can't live without them.

I've read the new Harry Potter. It was good. Better I think, than the last couple, which were too dark, too disturbing. I liked the Hallows much better. I've just read a couple of No.1 Ladies Detective Agency books. They're fun. Think I've had my fill of them now though.

I've been trying to remember some of my earliest favourites. I remember a birthday present book of nursery rhymes that I chose. It's a beautifully illustrated book, trashed by my kids and with its ancient glue and stitching giving way now. I remember Enid Blyton books which belonged to my mother, featuring Noddy and Big Ears and naughty gollywogs. There was a collection of Girls Own annuals at my Grandmother's house, and I loved those too. Thick cartridge paper pages, full of tales of hockey-playing boarding-school gals. I read and re-read the Little Women stories, and Katy, in What Katy Did, and What Katy Did at School and What Katy Did Next was my hero. I remember thinking Jonathon Livingston Seagull was the answer to everything. HA! Slyvia Plath's The Bell Jar probably increased my teenage angst tenfold. Maurice Gee's Plumb series is my Kiwi favourite, and The Bone People by Kerri Hume was a real treasure of my university days. It's the poetry I remember mostly from studying English Lit though, Dennis Glover (a Kiwi), Yeats, and yes even Chaucer (which will make AOF laugh). The Chaucer was compulsory, the exams torture, but the stories are so funny! I remember an incredible lecture about Foreskin's Lament, a NZ play about rugby, with the lecturer taking huge strides using the lecture theatre tables like stairs and rubbing pungent liniment (the smell of club rugby)into his hands and ours and raving about this, the great New Zealand play. Unforgettable. I dropped out of economics about then! And Shakespeare, of course. I have a huge beautifully illustrated Complete Works that my brother bought for me, many moons ago.

I've never known any trouble that an hour's reading didn't assuage.
Charles De Secondat (1689 - 1755)

Hear hear!!

Let's start with A

A meme for August. An encyclopedia of me.
It's Bella Dia's idea, and I'm a little behind. Have a look at what she wrote on 31 July, and join in too.

Alone

July was not kind to me. Character building. There are lots of reasons, and individually they are managable, but one after the other? Well, just too much. With the pressure has come the realisation of some of the things that being alone means. There're the small things, like remembering to put the rubbish out for collecting, and dealing with the re-invasion of the mice, alone, because I'm the grown-up around here. The big decisions, and there are lots to be made, are mine alone.

Alone is, however, not lonely. There is freedom in being alone. My independent spirit is thriving. Let me know if I become cantakerous or intolerant. The few nights I spend at home alone, I treasure. I like the silence. I like to listen to the sea. Sometimes I like to play the same cd over and over with no-one to complain. I can read or blog all night and eat toast for dinner. I can fill the house with friends. I was more lonely in the last couple of years living in an easy, ordered family home than I have been this year. Loneliness was probably one of my main reasons for leaving. It was much harder to be desperately lonely in a relationship than it is to be alone.

So here I am, alone. It ain't so bad.

Ohhh look at Whip Up. Lovely NZ blogs is featured. Scroll down a titch, there are 2 posts featuring NZ Blogs. Now that's cool.

Anknel and Burblets asked me some questions a while back, and now that I've missed out on all that Whip Up generated traffic, I'll get around to answering them.

How did you find out about blogland and what motivated you to join in?
I stumbled across blogland, I've been an internet junkie for a long long time. I think one of the first I discovered was Mrs Mel, and through her, Crazy Aunt Pearl. When I found all the craft bloggers I was hooked.

How long have you been blogging?
Since April 2006. It was a spur of the moment thing...and I regret that I didn't spend more time working on a name. I was having some difficult days, and blogging was a great new distraction. It helped. It still helps.

Please tell us a little of what your blog is about?
My blog is about my quilts and my kids, my travels and studies, and forging a new life. It's an excuse to try to take better photos, and somewhere to show off my quilt making. It keeps me in touch with some far flung friends, and has helped me make some very special new ones.

What do you enjoy most about blogging?
The bloggers! I've made friends. Some very good friends I feel close to but haven't met, and others whose lives I feel involved in, but they probably have no idea! I love reading all the new posts about places and projects that are new to me. To a large extent blogging has stopped me from splurging on magazines.

Where in NZ are you based?
I'm a capital city girl, in Wellington, on the South coast.

Anything else you would like to say.....
Thinking about starting a blog? Do it. Do it today.

the boy wonder

"Mum, quick, come and dance with me", shouts the 10 year old.

Well, you wouldn't turn down an invitation like that , would you? U2's 'Where the streets have no name' is on the radio. He turns it up loud and we dance around the room like wild things. I don't think he really believes me when I tell him I saw U2 play with BB King.

"Can I go on the internet?" he asks.

"Sure", I say, a little bewildered.

He takes his guitar with him. He searches the net, he finds the 'tabs' (whatever they are) and teaches himself to play this new song he's discovered. Never mind Harry Potter. The heroes that call to this boy are The Edge, Neil Finn and George Harrison. He's a wonder.

I'm trying to persuade him to go to the Police concert with me, if they really do come to Wellington in January.

bad and good

Look, the olive oil has solidified again. It's cold! The weather is coming to get me. I've been watching clouds rolling in from the south. The calm, still ocean has turned slate grey, and the waves are growing. I hope those kayakers come back to shore soon.

I won this! From the supermarket. Just by being there. Things like that don't happen to me. Do they happen to you? I hope it's a new trend. Yum! And a basket for my crochet project. Perfect.

No-one I live with is interested in the Harry Potter book. The 13 year old has moved on, isn't interested. The 10 year old has never been interested in that fantasy stuff. They both read a lot though. Guess I'll have to buy it for myself.

8 things

Helen tagged me to tell you 8 things about me.
Well, here you go.....

1. It's so cold in my house the olive oil has solidified. Really. And the rain? It's coming inside. It's dripping into cups.
Dear E&A, homeowners, do not be alarmed. It's the wild weather we're having, it won't last.

2. My name is Helen. 4 of the people who knew me as Pixie have died. 3 of them shockingly suddenly. One painfully of cancer. I think of them all often.

3. I've killed 14 mice in my mouse trap. Guess I've poisoned a whole lot more. Surely they'll stop coming now?

4. I'm quilting my latest quilt with a 1/4 inch grid. Why didn't you stop me?

5. I've got 144 blogs on my bloglines subscription. I'm aiming for 150. Probably won't take much longer. I hope I've got you. Here are two of my latest discoveries:
anknel and burblets and so tread softly .
Oh did you know them already?
Okay, check out i hanna and Yvestown

6. I'm going to San Francisco and New York in November. See, I've told you, so it must be true.

7. I used to write commercials for radio. Back in the day. When radio stations weren't syndicated and each station had its own copywriters and journalists and technicians and 'announcers'. Name me a broadcaster, I've probably worked with them. There are 75 words in a 30 second radio commercial. That will be the source of my accustomed brevity. You can't see spelling mistakes or bad punctuation on the radio either. Best job I ever had...getting paid to be a little crazy. Loved it.

8. I like being tagged, but I wouldn't tag you, you might not appreciate it. So if you want to play, you can say it was me that tagged you.