Sadness and Flowers

As soon as I had finished raking up these jacaranda flowers, I felt some kind of sadness. 

Every morning I look out the kitchen window holding my first coffee of the day, and gaze out to the carpet of purple. There's a branch that taps at the window, abundant with flowers, tap-tap-tap, a gentle reminder that spring is here, but not for long. 

The purple against the bright green of the lawn. The yellow of the hibiscus that's flowers drop before they've fully unfurled. When I find those flowers I wonder what happened to them, though they're still pretty as yellow petal-balls whose secrets will never spill into the world. 

Each time I walked out the door I could smell the sweet decay of the flowers, and it took me back to childhood. There's something nice about it returning back to the earth, comforting. 

But I swept it up, one job done, more to do. And yet, I've still got that hint of sadness. 

Spring is almost done.

Way Cool Workshops:: Desmond & Molly Jones

Aye carumba. The cool cats at Desmond & Molly Jones have put together such an awesome menu of workshops I can't even begin to tell you.

Actually. I lie. I can tell you. I will tell you. Because they are SO FLIPPING COOL!

Leonard Newton, salon owner and all-round ace guy said: “It’s about sharing ideas and being a bigger part of the community we work and live in. Desmond & Molly Jones is more than simply a hair salon and by offering a unique variety of workshops we are opening our doors to people from all walks of life, keeping the local spirit alive.”

I love that philosophy of sharing - and making things accessible to more people. 

Well let's get to the punch line. 

DAD & DAUGHTER: Matt and I have this ongoing joke about Matt's repertoire of hairstyles for Tiny. A high  ponytail that looks like Bam Bam from The Flinstones. 

If your man is the same - this is THE perfect way to spend a Sunday morning with the little lady in your life. 

Coffees and cupcakes (no tantrums and tiaras) while you learn a range of techniques that will transform your daughter’s hair into princess locks of love. You’ll reach a whole new level of hero in her eyes! Hopefully this will mean the end of Tiny's massive dreadlocks, or brat's nest as my sister lovingly refers to it. 

In this session they're demonstrating braiding, ponytailing and elegant up do's that are simple and quick to do... perfect for the Dad with a little girl on the go. Book here. 

Other workshops? Heck they have so many goodies!! 

BRAIDY BUNCH              MONDAY 18TH NOVEMBER                  7PM – 9PM
In case you hadn't noticed, I love braiding my hair, and I learnt my one braid from YouTube. Hopefully this workshop will mean I can extend my repertoire AND socialise with real people. 

BLOOMING BRILLIANT FLORAL CROWNS                   
                                    SUNDAY 24TH NOVEMBER        10.30AM -MIDDAY
The princess of peonies Holly Hipwell will show you how to create your own floral crown with spring fresh flowers. Plus they'll send you home with a kit so you can keep on making your own.

CURL ME UP BABY         MONDAY 2ND DECEMBER                     7PM – 9PM 
Currently I curl my hair using a very untechnical method. Washing my hair before bed, going to bed with damp hair and hoping like crazy it curls up over night. It's been pretty successful to date, however I have a hunch this workshop will make me look less like I've had a big night out at Studio 54, and more like I've got a clue about the curl. 

All images by Luisa Brimble for Desmond & Molly Jones. 

Favourite Find:: The Flower Drum Pillow PJs

It seems lately that sleep evades me. 

Frocktober has coincided with a zany, crazy, uber, super busy time at work, and I've been up late, and out of bed early to get work done. 

Which is part of the reason I adore these pillow slips. Or Pillow PJs as Holly Hipwell of The Flower Drum calls them. And who could resist these Pillow PJs when they're so hilariously awesome? 

Clearly not me. 

I can imagine these babies on my bed, but I don't know which side I'd sleep on. I think I'd have to switch sides when I was in a cranky mood. 

And if you don't know who Holly Hipwell is, well I have to say - where  the bloody hell have you been? Only Sydney's coolest cat and friend to flowers of the world - particularly peonies. 

The Flower Drum Club vs The Badass Club Pillow PJs - $45 for a set of two 

Finding Flowers In The Garden:: Bored At Home

I've had three days in bed. Do you know how bored I have become? I sleep. I wake. I sleep. I wake. I blow my nose. I have a cup of tea. I watch some iView. Then I fall asleep again. And then I do it all over again. 

Today was the first time I'd stepped foot outside during these past few days. That sunlight - wow! And kapow! 

The highlight was getting up to put some washing in the washing machine. High times friends, I am telling you what. Except, really, the highlight was as I was walking back inside - I found these orchids growing in what I would classify 'the ugly part of the garden'. This is the section that the landlord thought might look good with native flora - and it might, if every year it wasn't covered in a camellia heads, a wasteland of rotting petal corpses.

But these orchids were like a gift. Highlight of my day. 

What's been the best bit of your day?

PS - Sam Stone, how was P!nk??

Stealing Flowers

Spring Flowers image via Johanna Laskey

The other day I was in my garden, and saw someone out the front of our house - just outside our front fence. I noticed they were loitering, so I stood watching. They were there for a long time, and then I realised - they were picking my flowers from our garden.

Who does that?

I coughed - which was code for: "I am here, I see you, get the hell out of here - oh and PS - it's bad luck to steal flowers." 

Except this woman, with two children, kept picking my flowers - despite seeing me - she had just moved to where another shrub obscured her even further.

Now who does that? 

I know you might think I'm a bit crazy, but I walked to the front of our place - right out to the footpath, to find the woman, and one of the children madly pillaging our garden for our flowers. Finally, once she saw me standing there - she crossed the road, and walked up the other side of the street.

Er... Last time I checked, stealing flowers from someone else's garden was not cool.  

I know it's not scandalous, but I felt pretty outraged that this woman so blatantly just picked my flowers. If I want flowers, I want to pick my flowers (but I like them in the garden) - but mostly I buy myself a cheap bunch from the fruit & veg shop.

Do you steal flowers?

The Emancipation of the Garden

I spent ANZAC Day emancipating the garden from almost two years worth of weeds. It felt so good. Again. I can see where I have been - I see results. Tangible results. 


I want this to be a habit! I truly do! 


I conquered those pesky weeds, grew my own pile of offcuts, found a pumpkin vine sprouting from our compost heap; found some cherry tomatoes sprouting too. 


While I was pottering about in the garden, it made me feel connected with my family. My Mum loves gardening, I think my Dad secretly does too, both sets of my grandparents enjoyed spending time out in their gardens. Isn't it such an easy way to feel connected to the Earth - and slow down your day? 


I've now been sharing with the Doctor and Tiny some plans to plant a wee fairy garden at the front, with daisies and some prettiness. 


Because we rent, I've thought - well we rent, why would I want to garden. Then I came to this week and thought, I want to live in a space that is nice, that feels good, that looks pretty. Gardening is a two way street - and it's win:win both ways. You get to feel that satisfied exhaustion, and you can see results and feel good about it. 


Why am I so late to come to this gardening party?! 


Best of all - I found the water meter. I found the flipping water meter peeps! This is license to party like it's 1999.  It is in the middle of the front fence, and is completely obscured by trees. And weeds. Now it is FREE! 


This lady has totally inspired me. Can you imagine anything more dreamy? Nope. Me neither.


image via Daily Dream Decor

Flower Bombing The School

Yesterday I had the great fortune of being invited to the debut of Megan Morton's piece de resistance: The School.


Let me start off with the admin side of things. Firstly, I sat across from the beautiful Jody - who I met about 10 years ago, through an ex-boyfriend. I am one of those people that HAS to tell someone I have met them before - and make myself incredibly embarrassed in the meantime. So I told her, and then I got nervous rash all over my face and could feel my cheeks burning for what felt like the longest time. 


Then we sat down to watch a short video - and my jaw dropped when I saw another of my ex boyfriends guest-starring.


Really?


I should have probably done a circuit of the tables to check if any other links to exes were lurking. Any hidden cameras? Was I being Punk'd and they were going to drop an ex through the skylight next? Crumbs. 


Totes awkes.
I really wanted to crawl away at this point.


But once that was out of the way? We went to town making flower bombs - with great aplomb. Under the direction of the effervescent Holly Hipwell, with a glass of rose in one hand, and a pair of scissors, some carnations and some oasis in the other. My goodness it was a hoot!


And so it was that I found myself, amidst 32 other people, making flower bombs, under the watchful eye of Megan Morton and Holly Hipwell. (gosh I love the alliteration of those names). 


The School website is open for business from today. Sign up and check out the school holiday classes. Rad to the max. 


Read more about Holly Hipwell's hottness for hydrangeas (and other flowers) here.

Wedding Bells: Echoing Six Years Later

Matt and I are celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary today. Those six years have passed by in a flash. I might sound like some old fogie, but seriously, as you get older, time seems to travel at such ridiculous pace. I can barely keep up.

Tonight we've booked a babysitter and we're heading out for a low-key pizza and beer. Well Matt doesn't know that yet, because he's at work, but that's where my head is at. That's the kind of evening I want to have. Low-key. Low-maintenance.

I bought myself some sweet peas and roses at the markets to celebrate. It's all about low-maintenance. Uh huh.

Queen's Birthday

To ward off the grey that has been this weekend, check out this little magenta vignette. Pretty flowers from a friend, Tiny's Tupperware and some new yarn I picked up at Calico and Ivy.

Charmed, I'm sure!

A Petal or Two For You, Petal

Five of the best from our garden. Matt's grandfather was a mad keen camellia enthusiast. Winter time is as though the garden is alight with pinks, whites and fuschias of petals furiously unfurling in colour. It's tough to choose a favourite. So I choose them all.

This post is for Tania, who I seem to gross out all the time. Big camellia lovin' to you lady!

Serendipity

I've kind of gone insular at the moment. There's lots going on (heck, I'm sure that's true of most lives). I'm sure I'll write about it later, but right now, I'm just digesting. It's a quiet thing, but there's serendipitous moments that gleam through it.

Tiny's keeping me on my toes by getting into everything. Including the garbage bin (she must have got that gene from me - though I tend not to eat two day old peanut butter crusts found in there with dustballs).

The Doctor is tired, and almost at the end of the term. Holidays next week. I think we'll get out of Sydney for a few days and breathe some country air.

Matt and I. Well we're enjoying the odd spot of sunshine creeping in our windows. Fingers of it in the mid-morning. I'm enjoying turning the oven on with no idea what I'm going to bake. But I just gotta bake.

And right now, aren't these camellias spectacular, spectacular?

Life Rolls

It was just this morning when Tiny and I were on our morning walk that I spyed a fattened bee. It made me think about the minutiae of life. About how no matter what, life will continue, in whatever guise.

The bees will still visit the flowers.

The sun will still peek through the cracks in the curtains.

The grass will slowly make it's way through the dirt.

The birds will still make songs.

Life continues. And it's kind of comforting.

And it's just this afternoon that I've discovered that one of Matt's great colleagues died yesterday, after a long battle. I'm thinking of her and her family. And all the great stories Matt told me of her. She was a buoyant, vivacious lady. I know she will be missed, and fondly remembered by many.

If you can, please give money to Lifehouse. Maybe this way we can help those who need it, in whatever small way it is.

Good Intentions

These days, my hours are full of good intentions. I make lists of things I need to tick off. I get some done, I tick some off, and some sit for the next day, or the next. Or sometimes they stay on there for weeks.

I lose time doing things that just eat time. Hanging the washing out. Sitting down for a session of puzzles. Chasing a wandering baby. Good intentions.

Lately I've been thinking about my grandmother a lot. There's a house I like walking past in our neighbourhood. It reminds me of her house. A bounty of fat roses. And my goodness, you wouldn't believe the beautiful delicacy of these roses. The Doctor and I breathe in their sweetness. It takes me back to when I was small. And I miss her. I remember when we were small and she'd ask us to empty the tea leaves onto her beloved roses. I miss her.

It's like my brain switches off - and I think - yeah I'd like to ring Nonny and chat with her. And then I remember I can't. So I switch back to when I could chat with her.

I remember one conversation in particular - I was studying at uni and had an assignment on sati. I was, as usual, winging it with my lastminute.com assignment, and had no idea what I was going to write my essay about. Lo and behold, my grandmother had a wealth of knowledge. And when I say wealth, she was like a vault - but she was willing to share. She chatted to me about everything she knew about sati, and after that conversation I went away feeling more confident I could do it. She had a knack for that.

She loved words. She loved roses. She loved tea. And she was wickedly good at cryptic crosswords. I remember being small and when my parents went out, Nonny and Patty used to babysit me. We'd sit up on Friday nights and watch the proms on ABC. Does anyone else remember those? Afterwards I'd go to bed in the guest room, snuggled under a pink silk feather duvet, listening to the TV.

But my most favourite latest memory of her is of her and the Doctor. He'd lie on her bed. I know he can't remember her. But I will always remember what joy she had for her great-grandchildren.

Thankfully my house is blissfully disorganised. From time to time I find birthday cards, or Christmas cards strewn around in different places. Hidden in tea cups. In the ribbon cupboard. Next to my bed. I love opening them up and finding her familiar handwriting.

I know these photos are crazy bad. Taken in half-light, half-rush; but the thing is, this garden's lush and blooming with my memories. I can't go past without taking a deep inhale of these roses.

And with good intentions, I'm going to say it out loud. I'd like to start my own rose garden.

Day 9, 10, 11:: Dodging the Raindrops - and Still Walking

This weekend might have seen you wonder if I'm still walking.. Probably not, but I can always dream - can't I? Well, you'll be pleased to know, I am. Yes indeedy.

Day 9:: Friday afternoon I got the junior burgers ready for a walk to meet their Daddy at the train station. We were running late so we had to go hammer and tongs to beat him (and meet him) before he started walking towards us, and we lost the opportunity to walk, walk, walk. My little guy pretty well flew the whole way with me holding his hand and me walking left-right-left-right. I conned Matt into a longer walk than he was anticipating - but really, there's no harm, it's good for the heart, good for a chat. And it was good for my motivation to have some amigos!

I think we probably walked for over an hour. I scouted out a spot that would be good to scatter my seeds for our secret walking project. No success yet, but I'm sussing it out. It was cold and dark by the time we walked through our little front door.. Tired but happy. Now that's a good place to be!

Day 10:: I conned my small family to walk with me again. Hee hee. This time my little man brought his bike. Little did we know we'd wind up carrying it, balancing it on the pram, or using it as a barbell for the duration of the walk. We picked up my seeds to scatter, I chose some beautiful bright flowers that I'll hope will blossom in the warmer months. I chose flowers that reminded me of my childhood. I almost went for wildflowers - and I probably should have, but I'm not a huge fan. My bad? I took them to see a new 'dream house' that I had discovered on previous walks. It's nice to dream. This place is a little weatherboard cottage, complete with roses, lavender, and all sorts of tall and out of control cottage type plants. It has a small sunroom, that's where we'd read the papers, eat breakfast on the weekends. Maybe even sneak in a sly afternoon snooze...

Day 11:: I went for a hat-trick and took everyone walking again. Having companions was like an indulgence. Small Fry told us he had 'wobbly legs' and kept tripping over. We bought some Gummi Bears at the local IGA - though I told Small Fry they were sustenance. He kept asking for more sustenance, and thus set the theme for our walk. I searched for another of my dream houses, but can't remember where it is. I'll have to keep walking this week and re-discover it.

So I'm over half way. The habit is already starting to kick in. By the end of the day, when night is closing in, and if I haven't been for my walk, I almost start to panic, so I lycra myself up, tie my shoelaces and grab the iPod.. A walk in a flash - it's an easy habit to get into, it will be a hard habit to kick. I've already got dreams for my next step in my fitness regime. Nothing crazy. But there's nothing like a bit of boxing to mix things up, is there?

This week Mr Fothergill and I are going walking together. Watch us blossom.

PS - Images are from here. Don't go thinking I took these old school shots!