untitled*

The Boy and I went to Healesville Sunday afternoon and went for a walk at Badger Creek.

(The photo is not from there.On Sunday the camera hung out in the car. It's from somewhere in the Dandenongs earlier this year. That is dry sclerophyll. Near Healesville is wet. At least, provided I'm remebering correctly from a primary school project I am ).

Two things I was surprised by:

1. Tree ferns! So many! I grew up in the bush (mostly dry sclerophyll, but a little wet- hah! I'm on a roll now) and stag horn, sure, elkhorn, sure, native orchids, sure - but this insane amount of treeferns??? I was blown away. The Boy was, of course (CityBoy) bored.

2. The level of neglect by parks and wildlife. Definitely a contender for the worst kept park that's supposedly "done up" I've been in. Trees that you have to climb over on the paths, paths almost obliterated by regrowth, the non slip surface (ie, chickenwire) on the boardwalking layered in mud and leaves. I'm not complaining -  I was just surprised because at one point it obviously HAS been done up and made more accessible for all types, and now it just seems.... forgotten. Beautiful, though. And the amount of mud there was would've been AWESOME for running.

There's just been people stop outside the front of our house to talk about how ugly it is. I want to know who it was that first thought pebblecrete would be AMAZING as a rendering material. And arches. Because nothing says class quite like a pebblecrete arch.

*gah! I love the fact that, because I couldn't think of what to call it, and decided on "untitled" (because I'm interesting like that) I still had to title it "untitled"

lessons

So.

It seems, if your whipper snipper starts blowing smoke, DON'T stop and let it cool down, KEEP GOING. It's going to die anyway, may as well do it with a cut lawn. And, of course, my housemates are not much inclined to remedy the situation. I think it's understandable that I feel vaguely hard done by - they are all MEN¹ and they should be ept² at this sort of thing. Humph.

The jumper is Idlewood, and I was a bit of an idiot with mine. As in, I didn't check that I had enough wool, and - surprise! - I didn't. So I had to shrink the cowl, shorten the length, and omit the pockets.

But it's pretty rad anyway. Better with longer sleeves, I think.

¹ Feminism? Gender stereotypes? What?

² Not necessarily adept, but, you know, not inept. Ept.

positivity

it's funny how you can know something, how you can talk about something, but how it takes a little while sometimes feel it, bone deep, strong and sure.....

it hit me last night

you live, and then you die. there's no point wasting time in being unhappy


it's freeing

if life were a movie...

and that movie was determined by the clothes you wear...

I like to think that this week it would be a Tim Burton number

not happening, jan

This is not the photo I wanted to put here. But... well. Backstory.

The boys that i live with were playing at the Espy  at one of the Sunday sessions. They wanted to see the other bands as well, so i drove all the gear down for them. (M had to work, T doesn't drive, and A was worried to start with... driving from the North to St Kilda was not something he was counting on to put him in a good mood.)

They weren't playing until 6. We got there around three, the Espy was noisy, I was uninterested, so I went for a walk.

End Backstory.

The clouds were heavy, there was a breeze that may have been referred to as "fresh", although I would have thought of it more as "cold storage" but it was lovely. And then the clouds shifted, and a heavy shaft of sunlight slammed down through the hole. It was magnificent. And I went to take a photo of it (the above was me checking the lighting settings)... and I couldn't. Because those things are always magnificent in person, but after the event, a bit like a photo of a glorious sunrise - attractive, but ubiquitous. So I savoured the moment instead - me, the breeze, my knitting, and the thousand people who thought it worth capturing.

on why svelteness is not an option

There was baklava¹. It whispered to me, cajoling.

I said "no" and stood firm.

It beguiled, begged and teased.

I said "No" and stood firm.

It pleaded, tantalised and taunted.

I said "NO" and stood firm.

"EAT ME!" it roared.

So I did.

¹Yes, I know the picture is not baklava. It was all gone before I got a shot. But a remarkably similar thing happened with the Toblerone.

green.

I finished this green cardigan about a fortnight ago, and have been wearing it fairly solidly since. Not only do I love the colour (bright, but not garish) I have managed to work out a flattering pattern for myself. What I am yet to work out is a successful method of shooting myself (that is, where it is a full shot, in focus, and my head doesn't look  lie it belongs to someone of a smaller species) A. has said he will take photos, but we haven't quite got there yet.

Even a little bit of colour makes a difference - we (myself, A and our friend B) were in the city the other day, and on the corner of Burke and Swanston there was a Social Alliance hoohah, and people were milling everywhere. I lost B, because she was little and in black, but A, with his dull green jumper peeking out from under a natty pinstripe¹ was easy to see².

 ¹It's pinstripe. "Natty" may be superfluous.

² Probably doesn't hurt that he's 6'1", either