The hot blustery wind didn’t reach down into the protected valley as we wandered through the markets, though the heat found it’s way in. It seemed strange to be able to dawdle and browse, let the buzz of the markets be the soundtrack of our morning, not “canIcanIcanI?”, small hands tugging us in a multitude of directions. Just the two of us.
I stopped to buy a cute little tie-dyed t-shirt for Butterfly, and I hear a voice. “Hey, look, there’s kits. Why don’t you make one?”. That’s right. My logical, tight-fisted, “do you really need another hobby” husband, just suggested I *gasp* get another hobby. Sadly, the kits didn’t come in the right sizes for any of our brood, so I stuck with the initial tshirt that caught my eye. We then wandered up into the main street, full of pretty and quirky little shops. Our first stop was Weave, and it was DELIGHTFUL.
A little Steiner shop with a selection of craft and art supplies, I was instantly in love. All the pretty yarns, I was so tempted, but I was good. I mean, technically I’m on a (self-imposed) craft ban. But then I saw the raw fibres, and that little hank up there is perfect for a little project. My husband glanced over, saw it in my hand. “What’s that?” “Wool, for needle felting”. And then, he just went on browsing. So I took that as a good sign. Two bolts of fabric I tucked under my arm, and still, a quick look and off browsing he went. Fimo. Stamps. Felt. Nothing. Well, maybe a small complaint of could we please hurry up because he was desperate for a drink. But still. I added the little brush to the pile, and called it close enough. $70 later, and I was happy. The fabrics are so sweet, I am planning a quilt for Butterfly with them. The Fimo kit will be part of Boy2′s St Nick present. The wool is for a felting project, the stamps because they were cute, the brush because I’ve wanted a big mop brush for ages, and the wool felt because I often find myself looking for some.
The drink located, we resumed our wandering, and popped into the newagents for a magazine to while away the afternoon. Real grown-up magazines. That we could read in FULL. (Can you tell we don’t get out much?) The newagent just happened to have an art section, where I found the skinny canvas in the picture above, which I’d been wanting for ages, and which husband dearest patiently held while I ducked into the vintage/recycling shop (I would call it an op shop, but the $15 per top I paid for a couple of sweet little tops for Butterfly would suggest it is less op shopping and more cherry-picked-for-the-cashed-up-vintage-loving-hipsters), and in addition to Buterfly’s tops, I also scored a couple of cute vintage patterns.
for 50c each, I am quite chuffed – a bit of alteration, and they will be great additions to my summer wardrobe. Which means I need to go fabric shopping.
And that, my dears, is how one takes a craft ban, adds a husband witness, and blows it apart. LIKE A BOSS.
(Joining in with Sunday Stash, even though it’s Monday)