muppinstuff

it's lucky eight is a good number

On Friday we took ownership of our new house. Settlement occured the afternoon before, but I guess you could say that the eighth of the eighth o'eight was the first full day we owned it. Along with the bank, of course. Setting off in the morning was very exciting, so exciting we forgot to play music in the car (that's quite big for G, he plays music everywhere). Eventhough it was childcare day, we took Grace for a look first. The house was dirty. And full of detrius: safety pins, lolly wrappers, pills, tampon wrappers, coins, coathangers, dog hair. Lots of dog hair. And yet once we opened the curtains and the windows, it was immediately better. After walking Grace to childcare, via the park, I started with the garbage bags. Then mum, Lance and Ruby came to visit. There was a lot of standing around and looking. And it was a glorious day, with little white puffy clouds in a blue sunshiney sky. And as the house is near the top of a hill, there are some big sky views. I like that.

Gerard did a magificent job mowing grass that was so high, the children were frightened. I swept and knocked away dirt inside. It wasn't that hard. It's still pretty dirty but it's getting that empty look. So full of promise. I tell you, it was a very happy day. This house feels very right for us. After lunch, I had a twighlight zone moment with the eights in the date and realised that the street number is also an eight. I had planned to write something here about those moments of joy, but by the time we got home and through bath, dinner and Grace's bed, I was nearly falling out of my chair with exhaustion. Happy, but dogtired. All I could do was google eight, and think, phew it is lucky.... Not that I really believe in such things, but you can't have too much luck and it's nice to re-inforce all that feelgood stuff.

On Saturday, the rest of the family came for a squiz and there was lots of standing around and looking at rooflines and pondering the future extension (stca), the dirt and the bathroom. Grace cracked the shits and stated that the house was smelly and 'scusting. It was all a bit much for her. Suddenly her parents are talking brickwork and floorboards, paint finishes and schedules. The ideas and information are being thrown around hurly burly as we ready ourselves for making the big list and schedule that is this weeks goal. And all she sees is a house that isn't her home yet and doesn't really accomodate her in any way. Yet. I think we might paint her room first up. It'll be interesting to see how she views the transformation. Over the weekend, we've met a few of the neighbours and pretty much figured out what we want to do in the next few weeks. Last night I fell asleep dreaming about the bathroom refit, ooh gosh it's exciting.

ps. I'm posting over at Mrs Washalot again. Suits my frame of mind at the moment.

heading towards the darkest night

Last week it seemed like I was out nearly every night. Lots of things happening but of course, little time to blog about any of them. Tuesday night was a Friends of Coburg Olympic Pool meeting, Wednesday night the Moreland Council meeting, followed by drinks and then a walk home in the eerie night light. Thursday night was a delightful dinner out with my old mother's group and although I didn't bring my camera at the restaurant, I sat in the car at home afterwards and looked at the lights coming through the rain and it looked like some sort of heavenly disco. And I hadn't had a drop to drink. Not one. The other big event for the week was a friend's 40th birthday party. Very sparkly and fun. I must say, in many ways, I enjoy parties much more now as an old fart than I ever did when they were a regular feature of my life.

 

I'm really enjoying taking pictures at night at the moment, especially with my new wide aperture high ISO approach. Which is just as well because I feel like I don't have all that much spare daylight time right at the moment. Normally at this time of the year, I start to feel winter close in on me. It's dark when I leave work, the washing's a hassle, our house is damp, dark, cold and starts to get a musty smell that I'm sure would be much improved if the landlord fixed the guttering and water didn't pool under the house. Some years the winter grimbliness has been extreme. But not this year. Instead I feel quite light inside. I'm not sure whether it's more because it hasn't really been all that cold yet or more to do with the feeling that lots of good things have been happening in my life. The knowlege that this is the last winter we'll spend in this house has helped. And that that I'll be bidding farewell to the disgusting carpet that I've tried my best to ignore for 17 or so years.

Then there's the purple pills to consider. I have to say, that after some issues at the beginning, I've grown to really, really like the purple pills and the calm they bring to my life. It's really hard to explain the difference they make, but it's a relief not to be tossed between the up and the down. I still feel like me. Even if I sometimes do miss the inner drama of the unmedicated me. Feeling better and acting better has also meant that parts of my life that felt out of control before have started to mend. There seems to be a multiplier effect about the process of getting better that kind of mirors the downward spiral I suppose. What I mean is that once a few things start to get better, there's a flow on effect and more and more starts to improve and before you know it you wake up one day and realise that you don't feel like shit anymore, but actually life is pretty fine. Not that everything is perfect, we still shout at Grace when she's naughty for the umpteeth time in an hour and I still eat too much chocolate and not enough broccoli.

think I'll play too

There's been assorted posts rattling round my head all week, like the one about being quite late and lost on my way to work at an unfamiliar office. Good career move training that I was keen to do, but there I was stuck on top of a hill in a swirling cold mist with trucks screeching past in every direction. I nearly cried, but a passing jogger helped me with directions and no-one was mean to me when I got there. Actually they were really nice. Then there's the whole rave about being here on my own without G (he's away working for a week) and then the freedom slash loneliness of being at home all by myself the night Grace stayed at mums. Or I could have written about how it felt to ring a whole heap of solicitors and conveyancing services and say, hello my name's Janet and I bought a house on the weekend... That was odd. I felt so grown up. It was really quite good. Then there was the moment when I realised that the heater in the kitchen really is broken and that there's nowhere really warm at night to sit until it's fixed. I rang the real estate agents and requested emergency repairs which they weren't keen on but Grace has quite a cold (enough to be tired and cranky but not so ill that she's not getting into mischief) so I insisted.  The gas plumber showed me a trick to get one bar of it working until he can get a new tilt switch which is an improvement. I just realised that I told him I'd be home on the morning I have to go and see my new psychiatrist. The car has been fixed and cost more than I liked but less than I expected. And then there's my compulsion to be outside in the garden soaking it all up, reluctant to let it go but wanting more than anything to move to our new house as soon as possible. Perhaps it's a good thing I'm seeing my new doctor next week, everything's better than fine but wow, there is so much going on.

Anyway enough of the blathering, here's the game. I saw it over at Suse's last night when I should have been sleeping and at Leah's today when I should have been doing some housework. Now I'm going to jump into that deep hole that is flickr....

The concept:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.

This is what I came up with...

1. Janet, 2. In the Spa, 3. Tiddeman House - MLC, 4. Green Womble House, 5. Julia Gillard, 6. Day 156: Red red wine, 7. Down Under III, 8. The Humble Pavlova, 9. Ok, I'm sorry! Go back to your novel., 10. Curves - Walking the Ramp!!, 11. A_CRW_5668_Fog_Road_jopix, 12. new banner

The Questions were:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name

You can play too

and we'll take tony, and my toys, and my big girl bed....

Yesterday was so exciting, as you may have guessed by the title, we bought a house. Or rather wrote out a rather large cheque and signed on the dotted line for an even more frightening one. My dad made the opening bid. When no-one responded to that, the auctioneer made a vendor bid and then the auctioneer asked my dad for another bid, to which he replied, no, why would I? Let's see if anyone else wants to bid (or something to that effect). Then at the last moment another man starting bidding and then I jumped in. At one point the auctioneer said it was with sir (meaning my dad), and I said, no, it's with me now. Everyone laughed. Oh, the theatre of an auction. The bidding crept along in very small increments until the other bidder was reaching for his mobile and then declared himself out. I had the highest bid but it was still under the reserve. As we went inside to negotiate, a couple who hadn't bid tried to come inside too. I remember thinking, who are these people? Anyway, as it turned out we bought the house. The realestate agents shook my hand and kissed me on the cheek (eew!). And then I sat down to sign a whole lot of paperwork and write out said cheque in my chequebook ordered for such an occasion (who writes cheques these days of internet banking?) I was so agitated I could barely hold my pen. Then the vendors came in and shook my hands and kissed me on the cheek (what is with this kissing thing? I know it's exciting but...). The house was swarming with people and Grace was playing outside. Later we all went out the front. I helped the woman from the couple who sold the house to stick the sold sticker on the sign. It was one of those lovely moments of goodwill. Everyone very happy.

After that we decamped to sister Betty's and uncie Camo's for Ruby's first birthday. Very yummy soup (leek and chickpea with saffron threads) and toast for lunch and far too much champagne for someone who takes big purple pills. Followed by carrot cake with lemon icing. Luckily I wasn't driving. I worried that we were overtaking Ruby's birthday celebration, but we all kind of knew that it might be like this and we knew we'd all be together for the day anyway. Unfortunately I didn't take any photos of Ruby blowing out her candles, too in the moment, too scattered.  Or of Grace and Ruby playing together. Although I think this one and this one are quite nice.

So anyway we came home and put Grace to bed, mum pulled out all my knitting and showed me how to knit the scarf without so many mistakes and with a tighter edge. Grace didn't eat any dinner and fell asleep on the chair in her bedroom. She knows what's been going on and today we've been talking about fixing the house, she's suggested sticker tape and a hammer. I'm trying to convey to her that it's going to be a long time, but she's concerned about taking her bed and all her toys, tony in his pink cage in the back of the car, all her books and the playhouse at po-po corner. It worries me a little that there is absolutely no garden there, because Grace is at an age where I think a garden to get lost in is a good thing. Maybe I'll plant a forest of tree dahlias and jerusalem artichokes. Or perhaps the fun will be planting a new garden together,

I woke up this morning with many racing thoughts, including the ohmygod, these are some things I really need to do today and oh crap, what if we've bought a dud, what if the aspects all wrong and it's really dark in winter and glaring in summer and we can't work with it and gulp, there's such a lot of work to do and it's a really big project. In the end, I actually tried not to think too much beyond what I have to do this week, there's a fair while before we take possesion, so lots of time to get organised. I did some knitting. And folded some washing and then let the feelings of good fortune and possibilty just flow. We're lucky, I know and appreciate this. It's going to be good, it's already been good.

more knitting and sewing, could I be turning into a craft blog?

I've finally figured out how to do moss stitch again and I find it mesmerising, obsessive and infuriating all at the same time. This week I've been knitting in the tea room at work, knitting in front of the telly, outside in the sun, in the back room and beside the heater in the kitchen in spare moments.  I'm making a scarf, in deep red fine mohair with some acrylic in it. Reds, pinks and dark greens, all with a good dose of black, these are the colours ringing my bells at the moment. Combinations that I used to really like twenty years ago. I'm using my favourite green needles from the opshop with the black ends, which just happen to be the right size and I'd show you a picture but my monitor is away being fixed (again, what is it with my beautiful computer? is it too clever by half?) and I can't be bothered setting up to down load my camera onto G's computer.  Anyway the effect on the needles is quite pleasing. The knitting is coming up quite lacy and sits nice and flat, which is good for a scarf. Indeed, I'm considering pulling the other green one out and re-doing it in moss or garter stitch because the way stocking stich curls into a big glob is irritiating around my neck. But anyway, I'm not that far along with the red scarf because each time I lay it on the table and marvel at how I'm making a fabric, looking at all the intertwining strands, I notice a mistake twenty rows down, crack the shits and pull it all out. Funny thing is I don't care, it's been a stressful week and knitting is mediative, better than continual comfort eating or pacing the floor. Especially when I force myself to focus on each stitch and concentate on technique.

A house we like is being auctioned tommorrow, and let's just say that this week I've learnt alot about how realestate works in a soggy market. Quite a different ballgame from last year. So, if for whatever reason, we don't buy this house tommorow, that's my lesson. In other news, the car has sprung a dodgy clutch and has to be taken to the mechanics, and he's saying that it might be expensive. Although he's one of those lovely mechanics that has quite a conservative view of expensive and I'm almost never shocked by the bill. And Gerard's going away for a few days next week to do some work for a friend, so it's not the most convenient time to be carless. But I don't care. With mum's help, we'll manage and I have my knitting.

Did some sewing today too (after shopping and the hour and a half small child dressing session complete with ear splitting screams just on case one thinks that I'm living the ideal craft life). I made a green wool skirt and might have used the wrong pattern. A simple a-line would have been better, I think. There was lots of unpicking while watching Pingu and getting jumped on and wrestled by Grace. Both of us nearly got a quick unpick up our eye at one stage. Never mind, I think I've finished it, except for a final adjustment at the waist.  Maybe I won't like it and I'll have to make up the other piece of green material I have and salvage this for something else.

OK time to go and do a row or two before bed....

ps I'm probably not going to turn into a proper craft blog. Next weeks obsession might be the tree dahlias or one hundred ideas for small bathrooms. Just been thinking about it a bit because I realised the other day that I've been blogging for over two years now and I thought it would be all about craft. Because I thought I'd be living this blissful sunshiney craft filled life. Now life's pretty good, but a different kind of good. Gosh, time files doesn't it.

maybe this might be our house

So, househunting is back on in earnest. But this time we're not seeing as many houses each weekend, it's all very targeted now. We're looking for something cheaper, smaller and possibly not as close to public transport as before. Although all the people I've met at open for inspections tell me how convenient this area is and how close it is to every thing. And that's another thing, I rarely go to an open for inspection or an auction without meeting someone (new or someone I've met before) and having a chat. One woman walked me around the area, talked about growing up there, and pointed out houses of interest and just yesterday, my would be next door neighbour invited me in to have a look at her hardwood floors. It's very friendly. Which is lovely but also freaks me out just a little. If I'm honest.

Anyway, I saw a house yesterday that really did it for me. It's in terrible condition. Looks like a woman hasn't lived there for a while, having that sparse blokey lack of comfort. I know that's a presumptive thing to say (apologies to men who keep house well and women who don't). Maybe I'll rephrase, it looks as though the owner/occupiers have been more focussed on breeding greyhounds than on home maintenance. But the house is in mostly original and solid condition, except for the room at the back which is an add on and sinking into the kikuyu. That might have to be removed and the timber salvaged, or not, but G will know. Not many cracks.The unworkable kitchen and bathroom both have possibility and I wouldn't have to live with them in the long term, unlike some kitchens I've seen that are not to my liking but probably too good to justify changing. A good sized backyard that's big at the back and small at the front with a north easterly aspect. Room for a decent shed/workshop. There's a park at the end of the street and it's a short walk to a local primary school. The house is small, but I've come to the conclusion that two OK sized bedrooms might be better than three really small ones. I have an idea how we might extend and there's room for what I have in mind. Not sure how we'd fit all the pieces of our life in, before that happened. Which could be a while.  Nevermind, we haven't even decided yet and even if we do, there's time to work that out.

I got very excited about this house last night and lay awake thinking about this and that, whether it's the right house, right area, right decision for us. And about pulling up all the kikuyu. G hasn't even seen it on the inside yet, but he thought it looked good from the outside. We looked at a another house in the morning, in great condition and with the same layout but on a smaller block and we agreed, nice house, difficult block. I think he might like this one. Of course there's an awful lot of interest in it because of the block, and because it's been advertised at what I think is an absurdly low price range, even in such manky condition. The very young real estate agent was trying very hard to encourage me to put an offer in, but if we decide it's the one, I think I'd like the transparency of an auction. I've been to a few lately that have been total fizzers. Gosh, it's exciting.

of sheets and houses

Summer seems to have disappeared into grey sky, welcome rain and cool nights. Suddenly I'm thinking about my autumn work wardrobe and buying lentils for soup. It won't last though. There'll be more hot weather. Probably in April, knowing Melbourne.The seeds I threw on the garden between Christmas and New year are starting to come up. Surpises from the bottom of the seed tin, left over packets of this and that. I figured that there wasn't much point in taking out of date seed when we move. Next week I start my long summer holiday (planned and booked a year ago) and after that it'll be back to househunting, thinking about light and floorplans and renovations(or not) and schools and getting to work and trying to mentally move all our stuff, our lives from this house and yard to another, most likely smaller house. I worry about where I'll sew, where I'll put my computer, all G 's music stuff. Actually, I worry a lot about everything, but mostly I worry about moving. It's a long time since I put my belongings in a truck and unpacked boxes. I took over the lease here in the eighties. Almost half a life ago. Oh dear, that's not where I meant to go tonight.

I was going to talk about the family birthday parties we've been to, and going shopping at Highpoint with Grace for sheets for her big girl's bed. G is building a base from beautiful wood given to him by his friend Steve, and it's nearly ready for us to go and get the futon. Grace has been quite involved and has been reporting on the work in progress. I had intended to just go and get sheets myself, but having been back at work most of the week, I felt I'd hardly seen her. Grace said she wanted to come shopping with mummy, but as we all know, a nearly three year old doesn't necessarily translate wanting to go somewhere into getting ready or getting in the car, or even going into the shop to buy the darn sheets. Let alone choosing a colour or obsessing over thread counts.  Especially when her mean mother insists on searching the aisles for cotton sheets (because they'll last and be nice) instead of scratchy polyester princess ones. Nonetheless, despite several screaming meltdowns, her and me both, buy sheets we did. Followed by lunch in the food court, a quick trip back to the car with the trolley and then into Borders to look out the window and go down the escalator to the children's book section. Where, despite all that had gone before, she was an absolute delight. The escalator turned out to be the highlight of the whole Highpoint experience. Not the sheets.

I carried her back into the house asleep and lay down to have a nap myself. Later, because I've missed playing with the camera, I took a few pictures of Grace's play area by the backdoor. It's a constantly evolving scene. The plastic jug set is a big hit, as is the plastic fruit. Flowers in vases and cups are a constant theme at the moment too, but they don't seem to last, being tipped out, shredded into ssomething else and scattered quickly. There's also good use being made of the big cardboard box from Christmas. I would have thought it would be weedmat by now, but yesterday it was the shop.

a fabulous day for wallpaper

We went to look at two houses today. One I saw saw thursday before last. It's a total cutie. Nice street, good area. Beautiful diamond paned windows in the front, lots of charming (and some not so) period features, wide hallway, a linen press, cladding (protecting the weatherboards) and tin roof tiles (which mean that the house hasn't cracked under the weight of cement tiles). There's also several sheds, an adequate sized concrete backyard (blech) and central heating (first house we've looked at with such a convenience). It also has rather spectucular wallpaper, different in every room. The kitchen not only has wallpaper, but tiles and a wooden feature wall. And the bestest light fitting I've seen so far. This house comes across as a warren of rooms and some people just freak out, but I love it.

 

The kitchen is on the small side and the bathroom has no bath, which would require some thought, but there would be all sorts of possibilities for tweaking these things in the future. There would however be  two small studies.

But wait there's more... Another house, also in a good area for us, but with a better floor plan. Didn't make sense on the internet, but once we walked around and saw where the light came from, it did. Unusually for the era, it seems to have been sited to allow northerly light into the kitchen and dining area. The lounge is a little dark but that's OK. And the linen press is in the bathroom, which is not ideal, but the bathroom does have a lovely deep bath. Also a house with two studies.Touch and go as to whether it will be in our price range, but.... takes a deep breath, it could be.

The killer is, it goes to auction on the same day as, but after, the other one. Which is probably more likely, but this one is slightly better, especially as it is now. With work and a small extension, the other one could be better in the longer term. But they're both good. Of course, we may get neither.

In other news, I seem to have developed a twitch in my right eye. Can't see it, but if I put my finger over my eyelid, I can feel it. Which means I probably should be avoiding computers and television. So I had a nap this afternoon, but I wasn't really tired. Maybe a little nervours about work next week? I put my hand up to do higher duties while a colleague is on leave and am one of three in my office to take a turn at this role. A little taste of where I might go in the next year or so. I have all sorts of ideas about what I'd like to do in the job, but it's only two weeks. Of course I'm nervous. I always turn into a little bundle of anxiety about things like this.   

pleasant sunday at home

We didn't buy the house this weekend and apart from attending two auctions with mum for a look see, I took the weekend off. The last house put me (and us) in such a state of tension and anxiety that I really didn't feel I could think straight. Let alone make a sensible decision about something so big. It's OK though, I think we've narrowed down the area we're looking in. We'll be able to look at fewer houses in a more relaxed and ordered state of mind. It still astounds me the price that a modest house on a smallish block will go for in these parts, but looking at the newspaper, I realise that it's not quite as crazy as on the other side of town.

Today I relaxed, took Grace to the park in the morning which was fine. Only three tantrums, including a really good one on the service station floor because I bought her a lindt ball rather than a sherbet lolly as part of the deal for walking all the way from the park. Then on the way home she told me how much she likes chocolate, yummy. After lunch, G went to visit our friend Steve in hospital and while Grace was napping, I bumbled around doing the odd chore, put a whole lot of Grace's soft toys from the opshop through the washing machine, tidied my desk a bit and cleaned out my sewing area alot. And then started a project. Fun sewing, rather than the boring dark grey work pants I was planning to make. This photo made me realise how tatty the cushion on the chair of mank had become. But I'm rather partial to this cushion cover and had been in denial about how bad it was getting.

So I decided to use some material from my second stash, the unofficial one in the laundry, and make old into new. I'm rather pleased with how it's turning out. The light went before I could take a picture of all the over sewing, but it has a roughly quilted like effect. I'm going to use some red buttons I bought in a garage sale about ten years ago on the back and I'm hoping there will be nice frayed edges once it goes through the wash and that the effect will be restrained and deliberate tatt rather than lazy/slack tatt. Or I could call it shabby chic, I suppose.

Anyway as I was sewing, the lovely light came in through the sunroom windows and Grace played on the floor, feeding dolly a pinecone and giving a newly clean tinky tinky his medecine from something she found in the wastepaper basket. It was rather lovely and I reflected on how much I sometimes enjoy quiet domesticity on the weekend. Today, even hanging out some washing and doing the dishes was pleasant. It isn't always, of course, but today it just was.

Neverwhere?

There's been this dream I've been having lately, in which I discover an overlooked but really cool suburb, somewhere between Brunswick, Coburg and Pascoe Vale. Where the blocks are huge, the houses compact but charming and there's a funky neighborhood feeling, strip and supermarket shopping. It's really close to a frequent tram, bus or train on which I could travel work in about half an hour.  Always getting a seat. Of course, the schools are second to none and there are sunset views from all the front porches, but northern light into the living areas and linen presses in every hallway. The dream comes from a fragment of a conversation I had a couple of weeks ago with a real estate obsessed work colleague and the relentless viewing of houses every weekend. I thought the name Neverwhere came from one of Grace's story books or a song, but no, it's the title to a book I haven't read. Mentioned in a meme last week, but I only realised this when I saw it over at Bec's tonight. Pfft, I wouldn't know my own hand if I saw it in the supermarket.

Yesterday we saw some mindblowing carpet and some wallpaper I quite liked. In a house that I loved last Saturday, when I saw all sorts of possibilites for reworking the floor plan to provide a larger lounge room adjacent to a kitchen meals area all opening out to the backyard. My dream layout, for so many reasons. Which has sparked all sorts of conflict discussions about renovation versus living in a house as it is. And I discovered that a larger lounge isn't necesarily an attractive proposition if it means forgoing the idea of separate studies. Although we manage to share one quite well now. Even though I am massively irritating, what with not wanting to listen to music all the time. Grrr.

It's not like I don't find the idea of a little room of my own appealing, but you can't have everything and it hasn't come up as an issue with three bedroom houses. Just with houses that have four but would be much nicer with three. And this house, despite being butt ugly from the front (brick veneer over the original weatherboard, roller shutters on the windows, concrete garden edging) has a lovely interior. Especially at the front which is mostly thirties and has nice high celings, original door frames and a wide hall. There are fifties light fittings and a seventies kitchen that's pretty OK. Not a large block, just sufficient really, with a shed and a rear lane. Close to transport. And a school down the street.

Quite nice really, but in my opinion, it needs work and would be a goer for us at a certain price (laughs nervously, the auction is tomorrow). Grace liked it too, she's been talking to me about broken houses and fixing broken houses. Some of them have obviously upset her quite a bit. This one didn't and there was a room which she quite obviously saw as hers. We could definitely live in this house while we planned and waited for permits, but a lounge at the other end of the house to the kitchen seems daft to me. It would drive me batty in the long term, I'm sure. Still, we need to talk more. Because I'm big on ideas but I'm not the buildery one. I bet this house will slip away into the land of could-have-beens. Grrr.

p.s. I'm really starting to enjoy the new camera, especially for some reason, the sound of the shutter which is super fast compared to the brick. Still haven't figured out the buttons, but it's fun.