Letters from Wetville

I loved The Rosie Project .  I probably need (*need*) more Rosie Projects in my life. Look at the cover, even.  I don't read deliberate comedy very often.  But I giggled, properly giggled, my way through this.  It's a better tonic than vitamin C.  I also went to Christchurch and had a minor spending spree - two lovely bras and a beautiful scarf later, I closed my wallet for all but food and petrol expenses.  I went driving out at Greenpark (near Lincoln and Tai Tapu) and looked down behind Greenpark School.  It is going to close at the end of this year, but it was here that my Grandma began her formal schooling, and it was in a paddock at the back of the school that she tethered the pony which her father bought for her to ride to school (taking her younger brother with her). Then I went to Tai Tapu and played lady lunching.  Nice gf roulade (yes I mentioned food, AND gf - it may get worse as the blogpost continues) and I got great value o...

There is no logo down the side of my blog for me-made-May this year.  Last year I put one up and then realised, rather pitifully, that I hadn't nearly enough home sewn or knitted clothes for a month's worth of wearing. Nevertheless, I have entertained ideas of doing it anyway.  I've extended my home sewn wardrobe quite a bit in the last 12 months.  On the first day of May, I had my very favourite and certainly me-made polka dot skirt on by accident.  On the second day, which I think was when I realised that MMM had started, I was poorly and fragile and spent the entire time in my shop-bought jammies.  We are up to ten days of May, and I've jumbled through without much MMM design.  When I get ready dressed of a weekday morning, I'm thinking about the kids' lunches and what is coming up at work, not the provenance of my clothing.  I aim for clean, and anything else is a bonus. Today, after kitting Brighid out in hockey gear (something called funstick...

Time to get back in the blogging saddle. I had the three chalazia (plural of chalazion = chalazia?) removed surgically on Tuesday.  My eyes are healing well and I've gotten over the strange frightening feeling of having my eyelid clamped back and pieces of it pulled out. Both the nurse and the ophthalmologist were wonderful.  As she did the initial examination with the aid of a slit lamp, I admired Rebecca the ophthalmologist's knowledge and skill in such a specialist area.  I think I found it most interesting because she was a young woman.  There is a part of me which staunchly values the work of running a home and a family and another part of me wants to see so much more of highly skilled professional women.  Living in a small town, the range of specialised skills is not so high as for cities.  When I was 17, I longed to leave my small town (not the one I currently live in) and seek knowledge and adventure.  I was most unimpressed with my aunts...

This weekend I made some trousers, from the Simplicity 1887 pattern.  The sewing part turned out fine - I do feel I am making progress towards sewing competency.  But the fit is terrible.  The trousers bag out enormously in the thighs and then taper in again and I look like an ice cream cone silhouette.  I've just lined up my pyjama pants on top of them and my elastic waist pjs are considerably more flattering.  I have a whole shelf of non-stretchy fabric awaiting transformation (almost all of it thrifted or gifted to me), but more and more it seems that all the clothes that I like on me are made from stretchy fabric. The sun came out!  I transplanted the asparagus and the cosmos and the sweet pea which so desperately needed it that I would lose them if I waited until next weekend.  But the rest of my many garden projects will have to wait a little longer. The car project is nearly at completion stage.  Some time later this week, we will have ...

My world is much improved.  I got sleep, I went to work on Saturday and wrapped up an outstanding (as in late) project, I visited the lovely 85 year old Mary K, and the scene was potentially set for me to spend Sunday cleaning the house. Ha ha.  I spent the day in the indolent pursuits of knitting myself a cardigan (30 rows, replete with fancy shaping!!!) and playing genealogist.  Yesterday Mary K showed me a photo of her grandmother (my great grandmother) looking very elegant, and another of her with her sister.  I had never heard of this sister, but it turned out that Honor Ann T. left Cornwall some time after Emma Jane T., my great grandmother.   She went to Australia first, where she had family, and then to New Zealand.  I've found some details relating to her first widowhood, her second marriage and her death.  I also found that both of these Cornish women lost sons in World War One.  Emma Jane T. was also married twice.  She...

1. How to: fill your day with things which are mostly not paid work: go to A & E twice in one day for two separate persons. 2. How to: make a twit of oneself: go to bookgroup when drunk on tiredness and talk too much.  With possibly excessive swearing.  The good ladies of Paroa may prefer I don't come back.  3. How to: develop insomnia: have a glass of wine at book group.  Lethal. 4. How to: start knitting the pink Miette cardigan: be awake 3-4.30 in the morning. 5. How to: get paid work done around everything else?  I'll let you kow when I've found the magic answer to that. Good things: all the A & E visits have resulted in people who are okay now.  The Washed Haze yarn is knitting up nicely.  I believe the appropriate term is that it has nice stitch definition . They were very nice at work when I explained that I was going to be late on a big deadline.  The Indian Takeaways shop was very understanding when I drove four kilom...

Slippery elm, as a little googling will tell you, is a herb made of the inner bark of a tree (a particular one, but I don't remember what it is called) which makes a mucilage with water which is soothing ones innards.  Laksmi recommended it for Fionn a couple of months ago.  Since then, we've added it to the porridge Monday - Friday.  A couple of times in the last month I have seen the early signs of an imminent asthma attack, particular kind of sensitive, tearful, dark under the eyes and tired than would reasonably be expected which is a typical precursor to an asthma attack for Fionn.  But asthma hasn't resulted.  The slippery elm is the only different thing we have been doing.  So I'm inclined to carry on with it. Brighid, who has endless sore tummies, and myself, who is the grumpiest person this side of Arthurs Pass who also has a sore chest from/causing coughing, do not like porridge.  So I set out to find a way to get slippery elm into us....