Pineapples. Possibly evil.

 
I’ve been working on curtains for the new house. I bought readymade stuff for three windows, but two sets I’ve been planning to sew myself: for the kitchen window (because it’s so small and achievable) and for the craft room (because it has to be perfect and amazing).

I was totally besotted with the pineapple fabric above when I saw it at Spotlight. It reminded me of something that a French man would have drawn for some imaginary ’50s children’s books. I purchased the special sunblocking fabric to back it, and sewed up most of the seams.

It wasn’t until we hung them up to test them that we discovered the fabric creates an optical illusion from far away. The lovely lemon yellow turns fluorescent, thanks to the green and blue of the pineapples, and the small print turns into something resembling a magic-eye puzzle. They make you sick to look at them. Even ironing them makes your eyes go wobbly after awhile.

Heart broken. Lesson learned. And I’m going to have to think of 100 small-scale projects to use up all the pineapple fabric. Because it is really cute, but only in small doses.

I bought some replacement fabric today but will wait until I’ve hung it to show you. It’s quite amazing, but you need to see the whole piece to appreciate it.

The good news is that this week is my one-year anniversary of being on the Marshall Protocol, and I feel great. My latest test results have come in, and I’ve been given the green light to start experimenting with more vitamin-D-laden food treats and some extra sunshine. I’m still sun-sensitive, but not as much as before, and that’s my only major symptom now. I have hardly any fatigue and feel great most days, with tons of energy. I can do stuff now, which truly is the main reason I don’t blog as much.

I’ve also taken this as a good excuse to move into Sparky’s new house, given that I don’t have to be paranoid about sun from the outdoor toilet anymore. So this weekend I’m painting the craft room my favourite colour and moving some stuff in!

 

Tea towels made better.

 
I’ve been working on zillions of other crafty projects, too, but these tea towels are the only one I’m allowed to show you. (Oooh, how exciting! But you’ll have to wait.)

The dog was a Japanese Clover pattern (embroidered on a $1 secondhand towel). “Hello” came from Jenny Hart’s book and was embroidered on a 50-cent Ikea towel. I love how the stitching makes it look lasso-like. I am tickled pink with how they turned out. I might have to fix up all of my tea towels now.

Horribly named clothing store spotted in Fresno. Sign companies should be thoughtful and tell customers when they’ve spelled things incorrectly (like on menus) or just have dumb ideas.

 
Sparky bought a house one suburb away. It’s terribly exciting.

He gets the keys next month, but the house needs some work before I can move in. It has an outside toilet and no curtains (or even curtain rods), and I’m still sun-sensitive.

But on the bright side, it is a lovely old house in a nice area, and we will get to live in the same place after 3 1/2 years of commuting back and forth.

And… it has a small third bedroom that is earmarked to be my craft room.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have wanted a craft room for so long — a place where I can store all my fun stuff, where I don’t have to clean up my messes, where I can just go and create.

The new house will have fast wireless internet, too, so I’ll be able to use streaming radio like last.fm while I’m creating. I have my heart set on this new wall-mounted laptop station from Ikea. I love that you can mount it at standing height, and it fits everything I need — I don’t have a ton of other accessories other than my laptop. I asked Sparky what I would do if I bought a printer, though, and he said just send things to his printer in the other room, via wireless signal. Genius.

I promised more pictures of things I have made. Below is my first embroidery project, which I made for my sister and her husband as their wedding gift.

It’s in Spanish (my brother-in-law is from Mexico) and roughly translates to “Marriage and death (and pears) come from heaven.” Our grandparents were pear farmers, so pears are a very popular theme in our family’s homes.

I used bits and pieces from a few different embroidery patterns and put it all together on the computer. The sheep are my favourite part.

Meet Frank.

 
Hello. Testing, 1, 2.

Is anyone still reading this? Maybe via one of those nifty blog reader thingies?

In case you’re wondering, I’m doing really well. I’ve been busy getting better, not worse. Living, not blogging. And making way too many fun craft projects.

One of these days I’ll post pics of all the stuff I’ve made and not told you about. But until then, you can see Frank, my latest contribution to the Softies for Mirabel charity campaign.

He’s up for auction on eBay right now.

I made him out of another pair of old toe socks. I used a juice bottle lid to help form his snout (at the sock heel), and some jewellery wire to help make the bit I’m proudest of — his curly tail.

He is absolutely one of a kind, never to be repeated. And he is begging for hugs. So if you like him (or know someone who would), bid now or forever hold your peace. You can see the other auctions here, including one made by my mom!

I think he’s pretty cute. I just hope he does me proud and makes a ton of money for the Mirabel kids. They need hugs too.

 
This is what St Kilda pier looks like at night when it’s cold and rainy. We night people will take any chance we can get to smell the beach, you see. I have to say it was quite lovely — quiet and still.

There were hardly any people around except for fishermen. I don’t think I saw any women. Unlike the summertime, of course, when practically all you can see is underage boobage.

 
This is an accidental photo, but my favourite of the batch. It started raining heavily so we sought cover. I was wearing gloves and my finger slipped. Thanks camera!

We ventured out last night, too, to the new St Jude’s Cellars on Brunswick Street and then to the Night Cat. It was a bit of a nostalgia trip for me, as I used to go to the Night Cat all the time when I was a university student living in a share house nearby. I forgot how much fun it was. And I went nuts when I realised St Jude’s used to be the Hide-Out, the very same garishly colourful diner where my housemates and I used to eat huge plates of nachos. It’s now swanky and gorgeous — even the menus are lovely to look at.

The food was very good — a bit pricey, but worth it, I think. My only gripe is that they didn’t have enough vegetarian main dishes. There were options, but not enough to keep me coming back regularly. I don’t want to have to keep eating the same things. But definitely 1000% better than the Hide-Out.

There’s also a new IGA supermarket across the road. Small but decent and well organised, and a stone’s throw from my home. Brunswick Street is definitely changing. I hope, as someone said in The Age recently, that this is a sign of things to come.

It’s definitely autumn.

 
I drove home from Sparky’s today and, upon exiting Bernard the trusty VW, noticed the pile of fallen leaves had gone from big to ginormous. Almost the entire parking space is full.

Almost enough to jump in.

For the first time in, well, ever as far as my memory is concerned, I am really enjoying the cooler weather and changing light. I’m normally a sunshine lover and adore spring because it only gets warmer. That’s positive thinking, eh?

But now it’s different. I’m not sure if it’s the Marshall Protocol or getting older, or the new Sun Kil Moon album April on repeat, but everything seems so lovely right now. I love the colder weather, I’m loving rugging up and keeping cosy.

And I’m savouring all the household rituals that come with the change of seasons. I’ve swapped the fan for the heater. I’ve stored my summer clothes under the bed and pulled out my polarfleece-lined chinos. I’ve made the bed with my favourite periwinkle-coloured flannel sheets.

And today I’ve put away my blow dryer, brush, bobby pins, hair bands and assorted hair products because I’ve had all my hair chopped off. After three years of longer hair, I’ve gone for the Halle Berry special.

The hairdressers were all delighted. One said she had been waiting three years for me to go short again. “I think the hair was a security thing for you,” she said. To which I replied, “No, actually, it was Divorce Hair.”

I blame Natalie Portman. I saw her in The Darjeeling Limited recently and thought she looked amazing with super-short hair. Then I saw some pictures of her in Vogue magazine with shoulder-length hair and thought she looked like everybody else. Pretty, but nothing special. Same with Halle Berry, and Michelle Williams and Janine Turner (Maggie from Northern Exposure). All so much better with short hair, in my opinion.

But hey, growing hair is a thing to do, I guess. Sometimes you get bored. And sometimes you want to reinvent yourself because you feel different. I can’t say I won’t do it again.

—–
For a far more uplifting, useful thing to do, Pip is organising another Softies for Mirabel campaign. Remember Arturo? Well I’m enlisting the help of my mom this year to help me make more Arturos (I’ll be in the States for my sister’s nuptials just before the softies deadline).

If you’re feeling crafty and want to make a softie too, that would be awesome. Or if you have some cool old socks that have seen better days (I love stripes and socks with individual toes), you can save them for me (if I know you) or send them to me to be turned into more Arturos.

I’d never made a softie before Arturo, so don’t be intimidated. [edit: I lied, I forgot about Geronimo. Arturo was second, but the first made without a pattern.] It’s fun, it’s for a good cause, and the softie goes to someone you will never meet but who will love it very much. That’s some pretty selfless goodness.