Archive for February, 2010

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I’m good. Just ask me.

February 28, 2010

This bottling/domestic thing is becoming a weekly event. It seems terribly appropriate to gloat about the latest batch – fig and walnut jam – given the vernacular meaning of the acronym FIGJAM. It’s true. I am. But I’m also very, very, sticky because there are bits of jam all over the place, such as my inner elbow and the top of my boots. How did it get there? I just don’t know. My grandfather used to claim that marmalade walks up the spoon handle. Maybe fig jam does too.

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We wuz framed!

February 28, 2010

Last year, in a moment of frightening sympatico, Curmdgeon and I gave each other pictures for our birthdays. He gave me a beautiful, beautiful Tasmanian apple label (with dirty turquoise and bright red being one of my favourite all-time colour combos) and I gave him a nerdy Dr Who art poster.

We picked ’em up from the framer yesterday. Don’t they look smashing? NO, not smashing. They will not be smashed. They will be hung in the hall and beheld and admired as we sashay past.

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Crunchy predators

February 27, 2010

Predator 1: Elvira has gone through her final moult and is sporting an amusingly futile pair of wings that are dwarfed by her awesome, fecund abdomen. Pictures soon.

Predator 2: I was walking Squid the dog to the park when she stopped suddenly. Whyfor you stop, dog? I looked down to find her with the tail of a ringtail possum in her mouth. Just the tail. The best bit was that it curled out either side of her mouth like a giant novelty moustache, and she walked all the way to the park with her prize. I was so amused that when we got there, I let her eat it. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Here’s a cute possum to help you can imagine what the non-tail bits looked like (photo by LaVeta Jude).

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Makin’ patterns

February 24, 2010

Am awfully excited about my patternmaking course that starts tomorrow. It promises to solve all my garment-construction iss-yews (much like the IKEA catalogue promises to solve all your storage problems when actually the problem is that you have too much shit) because at the end of the five weeks, you come away with basicĀ block patterns custom-made to suit all your non-standard components. In my case, I have to alter every pattern IĀ use drastically because I’m very tall and very much shaped like a human A-frame:

I don’t have shingles, though.

Once I have my block patterns, so long as I don’t significantly expand or contract in girth, I can whip up all kinds of crazy couture that I know will fit. And won’t need altering. Hurrah.

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You grow it then you eat it

February 21, 2010

On my telly, right now, Dr Who is dying. Poor David. I just want to give him a cuddle. I’ll join the queue, shall I?

Such a splendid Open Garden visit today, to “Tuscany in East Keilor” also known as Rose Creek.

All this in the middle of suburbia. Wonderful.

There was also great a-pickling at Chez Livebird this weekend. I bought 16kg of tomatoes (my own crop so pathetic that I had to buy in) and Kath and I turned 9kg into the most delicious, gorgeous tomato sauce ever to bubble in a cauldron. About 10 litres of the stuff. Fantastic.

The moment when the recipe calls for 1.5L of vinegar and 2kg of sugar is a little confronting..

But what, pray tell, shall I do with the othe 7kg of tomatoes?!

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Stieg Larsson = Swedish Dan Brown

February 19, 2010

They’ve spent months on the top of the bestseller lists, and came highly recommended from a few people who usually have opinions worth listening to. But the Steig Larsson books really are very silly. Dan Brown silly. You’ll find spoilers aplenty below the break as I expand upon this thesis.

Read the rest of this entry ?

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Non secateurs

February 17, 2010

In discussion with the Curmudgeon while walking home from a Wolfgramm Sisters gig, we concluded that the best rhymes in songs ever are:

1. “Said that love was too plebian… said that you were through with me an’….

2. “For he made his home in that fish’s abdomen….”

Also discussed were which three talents we’d like to have. For me, it was singing like the big-voiced Wolfgramm, tapdancing and ukelele playing. For him, backflips, circular breathing and musical improvisation.

Last non sequitur of this post is a crochet project that turned into an unintentional Ood costume. Enjoy.