Birdy on birdy

 
I took full advantage of the Sunday Saver Metcard by trekking to Frankston for some secondhand retail therapy. While there, I noticed a smaller Bunjil-like birdy in the city centre. How appropriate, Kylie noticed, that real live birds sit on top. And do their business.

I discovered this one was made the year before my birdy friend in Docklands, and there are a few others out there (in Geelong and Moonee Valley, it seems — if you see one, please photograph it for me). I wish there were mini versions I could display in my home, or, better yet, in my backyard if I had one. Carolyn has spotted the sculptor’s studio near her home, so who knows?

 

the birdy in his natural environment in Frankston

 
I remember when the artist who made the iconic Brunswick Street couches was selling small versions you could fit on your mantel. I should have bought one then, as I haven’t seen one in eight years and haven’t been able to get in touch with the artist, only some failed attempts with his studio answering machine.

But back to the Sunday Saver: it’s $2.50 all day, and you can travel out to zone 3. It’s much cheaper than petrol, and my travel companions and I were able to knit and sleep along the way. Next time I think I’ll visit Belgrave. Any other suggestions?

 

a picture I nearly bought at Savers, made entirely out of bits of tissue paper and what I suspect is Mod Podge

 
And for my next sales pitch: If you live in Australia (especially if you are a design snob), keep an eye out for Eve brand toilet paper, the one with the koala on the front.

I purchased it for the first time this week because 1) I’d been feeling guilty that most people I know use recycled t.p. but I don’t, and 2) the package said “softness guaranteed”.

My main gripe with recycled t.p. is that it’s horribly scratchy. But I’m an avid recycler and know I have to purchase recycled products for the system to really work. I decided to take up the company on its guarantee.

Not only is it truly soft, but it is beautiful. It has the loveliest swirly dot pattern that I have been marvelling over for the past few days.

Yes, I thought, maybe I had gone too far with my design snobbery this time. But I got over my shame and e-mailed a fellow design lover, telling her to look out for it in the supermarket. Then I got a shock: she replied that she already goes out of her way to a different supermarket than usual, specifically “to buy that great dotty paper.”

Who ever thought toilet paper could enter the realm of good design?

If you order more than $25 worth from Thai on High, you get a free mystery entree in a paper bag and some bad-ass penmanship. This one went straight on the inspiration board.

 
I am d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d!!! As of two days ago. I’m free!

YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

How do I feel? Well this comes to mind (scroll down for the full effect — sorry, Kat).

The divorce party is in the works: I’m thinking mini food, board games, cha-cha records, cupcakes and mixed drinks that positively reek of sugar.

There will be much to celebrate this Valentine’s Day. We’ve come a long way, baby.

Not sure what these signs are supposed to mean, although I’d like to think it’s “Please ensure you have a spring in your step when walking on bowler hats.”

 
Please feel free to contribute, whether you know me or not. I contributed to Jenny’s, even though I only really know her through her blog (and Barb’s back-in-the-day stories about London). I wonder how accurate I was?

I watched Three Dollars on Friday night and thought it was pretty good, but then I love catching up on my Australian films (especially ones shot in Melbs) and I love David Wenham. I think he’s just brilliant. This was the first time I’d not loved Frances O’Connor, though — as Sparky so aptly interpreted for me, her performance “smelled of acting”.

 

Hutchison Street (not Hutchison Place), Coburg

 
There’s a tradition at work of collecting money for any staff member who leaves. The first few times I felt guilted into it. Lately, though, we’ve had a few resignations, and I just can’t afford to keep pitching in. Then there was a simultaneous collection for someone else’s happy milestone (not a resignation). I wish I could put an end to it but am not sure how.

Does anyone else have something similar at work? How do you deal with it?

Moonlight Cinema in the Royal Botanic Gardens

 
I got excited about removable wall decals in the new issue of real living today, then I spotted the same thing here (thanks to the new ReadyMade blog).

I’m loving the birds, but if I could choose my ideal design, I’d probably make a giant 2-D version of the fake white Japanese maple in the corner of my bedroom. Yes, a nice floor-to-ceiling tree decal would do nicely. Or something organic and flowery with less repetition and more variety of shapes than what’s on offer at these two sites. Tempting, though.

 

spotted while flat-hunting with Kylie in St Kilda

 
I think I need to spend more time at home while awake. I feel like I’ve been living in a motel lately, only without the cleaning staff. I daydream about sewing: tailored cotton dresses, pillows and other soft furnishings. I am definitely in nesting mode, without the time or energy to do anything about it.

How do supermoms go to work, keep the house tidy and take care of the kids (and husband/partner, if they’ve got one)? I can hardly keep myself and the cat fed. I find it miraculous that I’ve been able to knit 1/3 of a scarf this week, and I managed to cook something substantial for dinner tonight that made enough leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

The weird thing is that cohabitation took more energy, in part because I felt pressure to have a proper dinner every night. On my own, I can eat whatever I feel like, even if that means an assortment of strawberries, feta, avocado, walnuts, hummus and whatever else is around. Not really a salad, and I probably wouldn’t serve it to someone else, but it suits me just fine and isn’t nutritionally embarassing. And I’m not pressured to keep things tidy around here — if my body needs a nap more than it needs clean clothes, then so be it.

I’m looking forward to a massive apartment-wide cleanup. I only wish I could get a week off work in order to accomplish it.