slice of nice.

Firstly, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who left me such positive feedback on the fabric, both here and on Facebook. I was so unbelievably nervous launching it, that it was wonderful to have such a warm reception, even if it is simply my friends being nice!

 

 

The best part about having visitors, aside from the visitors themselves, of course, is the excuse for some guiltfree indulgence baking. Like my famous-in-my-world caramel slice, topped with Lindt 70% dark chocolate. mmmm…. I had a lovely morning on Monday catching up with a dear friend, drinking coffee and quaffing slice and pumpkin scones in the sun as the children played and dashed in and out of the toy room. And if there is slice left over, well, I can’t let it go to waste, can I?

Wednesdays are our be-lazy-at-home day. Except we had to go grocery shopping. Pity about that whole needing to eat business, life would be so much simpler without it, wouldn’t it? But the groceries are done and put away, Reading Eggs have been played, bikes have been ridden in the sun. The children are fed and Butterfly is napping, Bubba Boy is drawing in the studio with me for his rest, and I’m getting ready to get my craft on. I’m hoping to give the blog a makeover, and start on some new fabric designs. I desperately need to get this mug rug quilted, so that might be my first plan of attack. Some piecework is begging for attention, Bubba Boy wants to sew, I’m aching to paint. And I want to scrapbook. Too many options! Maybe just ease into it slowly with a coffee and some m&ms that kind-of-sort-of-accidently-on-purpose fell into the trolley. I would have some of the caramel slice in the photo, but “someone” ate the last of it last night watching the Budget. ‘Cos that’s how hard we party around here. Wednesday’s halfway over, we’re officially on the run down to the weekend. The boy is snuggling and stroking my face as he tells me he loves me and I am his “precious mummy”. The day is fresh and bright and brimming with goodness. But the big to-do list will kick my butt if I don’t get busy. Let’s do this!

Hapy birthday to…Pooh Bear?

The day stretched out before us, nowhere to go, nothing in particular that needed doing. As I wiped the final crumbs of breakfast from the bench, a small furry head poked around the corner. “Hurro, mummy” growled a low voice, which rose suspiciously as the boy behind the voice dissolved into giggles, and showed himself. “Mummy. It’s Pooh Bear’s birthday today! I think we should have a party!”. I eye off the bear, and the boy. This isn’t the first time such a prnouncement has been made – from my recollections, this would be party number three. Or four. I’m kind of starting to lose count. “Really, sweetheart? We can have a party. How old is Pooh Bear?” and for some reason, I’m not all that surprised when the answer quickly comes back – one. I stifle a giggle, and we set to work on a cake – honey pot of course. It comes out, and once cool, we set to decorating. Daddy wanders in, casting an eye over our creation. “What on earth is that supposed to be?”, and doesn’t really seem all that impressed when I declare it a honey pot. Well, I never professed to be a professional cake decorator, and Master Five is blissfully ignorant of it’s non-honey-pot-like characteristics, so I banish the nay-sayers, and we complete the cake. The kettle boiled, a candle found, and we assemble on the patio. I’m not quite sure what the neighbours must have thought as we sang happy birthday to dear Pooh Bear, but the enchantment on a little boys face was worth it. A slice or two, and before long, the cake was gone, the party over, and a bear on a sugar high put to bed

Five weeks in, and I think we are getting a handle on the school routine. Groceries bought and packed away, housework done, coffee consumed. Two little people rested and played. We loaded up the bike trailer and went for a ride. The obligatory swings. Cuddles for a girl, grumpy her routine is being forced into the school day. A photo walk in the backyard with my big boy, and then, not wanting to feel left out, my little boy. The sun is setting on another productive day, and yet, I still hope to squeeze some creative time tonight. Even five minutes for a bit of cutting. Some new fabric is on the way and it’s got the sewjo following. Tonight might be a good chance to clear out the “must do” sewing before the “want to do” sewing becomes pressing. The small people are tucked up in bed. I can hear the low murmur of Daddy reading stories as I sneak five minutes on the computer.Thursday’s almost done, Friday is just around the corner, ready and waiting to herald in a fresh weekend. Busy, but good.

baking day.

A little head at each elbow, two grasping hands on my knees. “I do dat, mama?” “can I lick the spoon, please, mummy?” “I has lick of ‘poon too, mama?” “bub bub bub mama, BUB BUB”. The old Kenwood churns away, adding to the cacophony that is baking day. Chocolate cake, biscuits. Maybe a slice if we have time. And all made with recipes passed down through the women of my family. I love baking my great-grandmothers biscuits, filled with memories of many after-school snacks, dunked hot, into cold milk. Mixing them on my grandmother’s Kenwood mixmaster, a gift from my grandmother when my mother was a tiny child. And now, it’s my turn, with three small people “helping”.

 

But today, we won’t be baking. Bubba Boy is unwell, and we’ve been up half the night with a cough. So today is all about the snuggles. A movie or two, a quick trip to the doctor. Some playdough if he perks up enough, maybe some sewing for mummy. Doing a great deal of nothing until school pickup time comes around. Holding him close and getting him well. Horrible bugs, rack off and leave my boy alone. Downhill run to the weekend starts NOW!

 

nom nom…

It’s been a funny old day. Hot, then stormy, then muggy. Hopefully another storm this afternoon to cool things off again.

 

Today was going to be a catch up day. After all the rain, I finally found the bottom of the washing basket. Four loads of washing await hanging in the laundry. Except it started raining again. Of course. So instead, while baby girl sleeps, I’m going to race around and do all I should have done this morning. But I shafted housework and went for coffee, and met with friends. I chatted and laughed and filled my sol with the happiness that comes with good friendship. Baby girl rocked it with her aunty, and managed to come home with a new dress, new shoes, and lost her new hat. She also adopted a new pet in the shape of a microfibre finger duster that she loves rubbing on her face. Strange girl. Half hour ’til pickup, and the rest of my jobs call. Tidying, sweeping, vacuuming. Pickups, afternoon teas, unpacking, repacking. If I can swing it, a spot of sewing for a friend’s new baby. A stitch or two in my current Dear Jane block. Attempting to ignore the pull of Facebook and Pinterest. Must. Close. Internet. Tuesday’s nearly done, Wednesday beckons, then a downhill run to the weekend. Can’t wait! Let’s do this!

 

yummy!

Cream cheese icing. Seriously. How on earth have I lived 28 years, and not discovered the deliciousness that is cream cheese icing? We made a carrot cake yesterday, and cake isn’t cake without icing. Oh. My. Goodness. It seemed criminal to waste it by putting it on a cake.

 

It’snap time & I’m crazy busy. Secret Santa, a couple of RAKs. A studio to tidy. More blogging to do.  And of course, the baby has just woken. *sigh*. Hello Friday, let’s count the hours until 5pm.

tea cake

Miss Butterfly, it seems, is a fussy one.There is something not right about making a new mother choose between chocolate & sleep. But for now, sleep wins. Soon, though, I may re-introduce chocolate, and hope that it doesn’t keep her awake all night.

So when we wanted to bake a cake, I wasn’t quite game to attempt our old faithful standby, chocolate cake. I pulled out the recipe book, and my eye fell upon a recipe for cinnamon tea cake. Yummo! With my faithful little helpers beside me, we measured & added & mixed until a lovely thinck batter emerged, and then waited eagerly as the microwave timer counted down the minutes. A few minutes to rest, turned out on to a plate, a dusting of warm butter, sugar and cinnamon, and it was coffee time. So it wasn’t chocolate, but I think I may have just found my new “stand-by cake” for the next 12 months or so! You don’t want to know how quickly it disappeared…

 

Today, I’m trying to clean my studio. And I really need to sort out the boys clothes, see what I need to turf, repair, make, buy. We’ve read stories, swung swings, done craft, baked biscuits. Admired the preciousness that is a certain 3-week-old little girl. I may or may not have ordered a bit more fabric than I really needed to make a couple of quilts. I may or may not be also planning a raid on my fabric shop. My creative mojo is set to “high”, and my mind is full of plans. The toddler sleeps, the baby stirs, the preschooler is holed up in a lounge-and-sheet cubby house. Rest time is here and I’m going to make every second of it count. Happy Wednesday!

sweet & sour

Laden with fruit, the lemon tree begs to be useful. With a basket in one hand, and a small little boy clinging to the other, we answer it’s call. Bare feet cushioned by grass invigorated by unseasonally rainy weather, warm spring sunshine beating on our backs, we fill the basket. One. Two. Three.

Traipsing inside, I assume the captains position, and issue directives as the lemons are sliced opened and juiced. Flour. Butter. Sugar.

In goes the butter and sugar, the beaters go on… And the baby wakes. With Baby Butterfly in her sling, we start again, but apparently she’s starving. No one *ever* feeds her, dontchaknow? Eventually we get the batter made, into the tin and in the oven, and the smell of fresh lemon cake wafts tempting through the kitchen as we have lunch.

Butterfly is 10 days old, and growing quickly – our MCHN visit earlier in the week showed she’s put on 240g in a week. She sleeps well, feeding every two-ish hours during the day and three hourly at night.

This week, husband is back at work, and I think we’ve just about found our feet. Today has been a gloriously sunny day so far. A picnic for morning tea. Stories in the sunshine. The house is clean. The cake is baking away nicely. Baby and toddler are sleeping. Our visitors aren’t due for another two and a half hours. I see lunch and then a spot of crafting coming up. Bear has requested an aeroplane softie. And then I might try and make *something* pink. Anything, really. If I get a chance, a quilt and doona set has just about finished designing itself in my mind – next step, the paper version. A pile of scrapping is calling for attention. As is the folding pile. Eh, go fold yourself, washing. Wednesday already, where is the time going?

a rainy day…

… is perfect for some baking!

“What shall we make?” I ask the board. “Biscuits with porridge in them, please, mummy”, says the big one. “Bikkie, bikkie, bikkie”, chants the little one. “Umm… no coconut, and no oats, little boy”. “Wah” says the big one. “Bikkie, bikkie, bikkie”, chants the little one. With a feeling of kinship with Old Mother Hubbard, I survey the pantry, desperate for a diversion. “What about choc-chip cookies?” I plead. “We have biscuits, not cookies, silly mummy”, states the big one. “Bikkie, bikkie, bikkie”, chants the little one.

And so, crisis averted, we make choc-chip biscuits. With white chips, since it appears someone may or may not have eaten the chocolate ones. And despite not being “biscuits with porridge”, Bear seemed to have no qualms in accepted an offered beater. “Who wants a lick?”

“Me, me, me” chants the big one. “Mine, mine, bikkie, bikkie” chants the little one.

just chillin’

Sometimes, there’s nothing quite like a quiet day at home. Playing. Cleaning. Baking. Being. Just what a Monday should be!

So I didn’t get the quilt finished. But it turns out the deadline isn’t as tight as I thought it was, so I’ve got a bit of wiggle room. I’m planning a big week of creating this week. A change mat. Perfecting (or at least improving) my FMQ technique. Some scrapping. Today was my day of rest. Tomorrow I get busy! Let’s do this!

Comfort food.

4pm. The school bus grinds to a halt at the end of a gravel side-road. The young girls, the last on the bus today, peel themselves from the cracked vinyl of the seats, and slinging backpacks laden with school books over one shoulder, they amble towards the front of the bus and clamber down the steps. Impatiently they wait for the bus to lurch away, and they break into a run, up the driveway and through the gate. They burst through the door, the previously almost-silence shattered by the clattering of school bags and shoes hastily discarded. The scent of promise wafts in the air. Their mother grins at them. How was school? The question is ignored, more pressing matters on their minds. What did you cook? Is it chocolate cake? The ends of the cake are quickly sliced. Slathered with butter. And, gone.

Now it’s I that does the baking, with my own two little ones at my knees. And I’m the one baking the comfort foods, the recipes that are copied from spidery writing on delicate, yellow paper. Wrapping it in checked tea-towels, and taking it to share with my mum. Completing the circle.

Today, we were blessed with yet more rain. Cabin fever threatened. So we bundled the children into the car, and set off in search of adventure. Or shops. Unfortunately, it appears I have used up my current “drag-husband-to-fabric-store” credit. But we managed some productive shopping nonetheless. And coffee. With some yummy citrus tart. And only two tantrums over who had the better biscuit. Tomorrow is our last day with daddy on holidays. So we are making it count. Trains. Long breakfasts. Family time. Painting. Stories. Hopefully not too many “that’s MY toy” moments. Enjoying every second. It’s 2010, the rain has arrived at long last, and all is right with my little world. Monday is still a whole day away. Let’s do this!