Poppalina

Vegetarians Unite

People keep giving me things and I don't know why.

Kate dropped by with cake, and this exquisite child.

Whom I wanted to keep, but alas, her generosity did appear to have limits.

And Lucy, who was almost definitely my sister in a Previous Life, sent me some truly excellent manuals on how to be a vegetarian and not starve to death, providing me with some absorbing reading at the doctor's surgery this morning,

So much so that I forgot where I was and when my name was called I shrieked, so loudly that I freaked everyone out.

Lucy, you really are a gem. I hope you're home on Fridays, because my new traditional Chinese medicine dude is just around the corner from you.

Now, to get my hands on some arame.

Mosaic Monday

Late, I know.

I have been sick again. More lying in bed with the blinds drawn, wanting to die, more of my eyeballs threatening to burst clean out of my skull, more kids eating pizza, more dogs looking worried and refusing to leave my side.

But I just jumped the queue with my specialist by six months, and will have a plan of action by Friday night. Also acquired a kick-ass acupuncturist, who brought me immediate relief. Wish I'd found him 5 years ago, but never mind.

So that's good.

Not sure how much more of this half-dead business I can take.

Funny though, every time I come back to life, I find a new appreciation for the simplest things. Sunshine, the fun my dog has chasing a ball, the sound of my daughter dissolving into giggles, a particularly handsome-looking eggplant at the grocer's.

Easily pleased, that's me.

I've also turned into a vegetarian. Me. Queen of the Sunday Roast. How the fuck did that happen? I have no idea how to be one.

I imagine I'll learn. And that my daughter will one day forgive me.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes. The mosaic. Sorry.

 

1. Spring Crafts - Butterfly, 2. Untitled, 3. she's really good, 4. nuturing, 5. Baby Elephant, 6. Haverhill throw, 7. New Bear, 8. misio diary - 02.05.08, 9. Indian dupattas, 10. emmaline4, 11. ~, 12. my oldest and newest bears, 13. mona's heartstring, 14. Untitled, 15. capoeira in the sea, 16. freshley hatched, 17. Save the Girl Child-00128, 18. phobos, 19. tiny white flowers, 20. Another Way of Watching the Sky, 21. Untitled, 22. Charm Bracelet no.1, 23. wawaya - dragon macro, 24. icing, 25. mandarin Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

More Art, You Bastards

As far as I can tell, Visual Arts at your average Australian state high school is funded at the rate of approximately 50 cents per student, per annum. Assuming a student actually manages to find their way into the broom cupboard right down the back that is the Art Department, the most creative thing they're going to get time to do there is find a pen that works.

Such things are to be borne, but not graciously. In fact, I bitch about it a lot. I bitch about the fact that the school manages, somehow, to find the funding for a LOT of Compulsory Maths (5 periods a week, all year, till year 10), a subject that I know for a fact my daughter neither learns nor needs, and yet can manage just one hour a fortnight for Art.

Let me repeat that. Onefuckinghourafortnight.

And we wonder why the world's going to Hell in a Handbasket?

Anyway, my only viable response was to step up the art at home. Less computer. Less TV. More art. It's proving a little challenging to implement without screen accompaniment, but I'm holding firm. A Creative Genius is only a Creative Genius if it actually Creates Something Really Really Cool on a Regular Basis. Otherwise, it's just another dumb kid hanging around the schoolyard, talking shit.

Or something like that. It was a Rather Inspired Lecture. Honest.

Many thanks to Sue Scott for Mym's needlefelting lesson, and for the DIY felting presents that came home with us, so we can needlefelt ALL THE TIME, if we want to. DAMN, that woman is cool.

Mosaic Monday

1. mandarin, 2. Untitled, 3. Shapes, 4. quilting birth, 5. Shutters Light, 6. kombi, 7. Otto is lounging, 8. Purple Finch in a Pink Dogwood, 9. The way out, 10. Life Happiness, 11. Orchard detail, 12. Make 1 left, Make 1 right, 13. Untitled, 14. new kids, 15. and yes, i bought some buttons, 16. plum cake, 17. Raffaello, 18. bunny staging, 19. New kitty, Petal!, 20. Rocks, 21. purple paint, 22. little red tractor, 23. her dancing shoes, 24. 93/366: Part 2: ladles & spoons, 25. Untitled

Breakfast Sunday

I haven't really been eating breakfast, lately. Sleeping the hours I do, it's hard to know what time breakfast even is.

But I baked some plums, and had some cream.

So.

Breakfast Sunday

Taking the Cure

I swear, I can just FEEL the love.

Sometimes I forget that people actually read this blog. A heartfelt thankyou for all your emails and comments. They helped me to reconnect. I forget things when I'm sick, like the fact that I'm not the only person in the universe.

One of the things that happens when you're perfectly convinced that you're going to die, and then you don't, is that you are obliged to re-examine your life and your priorities.

I've come to the conclusion that this business of Not Crafting has to stop. Crafting makes me feel alive and worthwhile, like I'm contributing something to the world, rather than just leaving a big, fat, environmentally-degraded footprint on it. It also makes me happy, something I need to pay more attention to.

This means that the time I spend noodling around on the computer will necessarily diminish, so I will be posting less, I think. The good news is that I am more likely to have something to offer when I do post, albeit yet another picture of a work in progress. And maybe the odd breakfast, just to drive Bec nuts.

That's the plan, anyway. Poppalina is turning back into a Craft Blog.

I also made an appointment with my specialist. High time I did that, too. The radioactive iodine treatment that he recommended 4 years ago and that I responded to with a polite, but firm, Over my dead, fucking body, is suddenly looking attractive.

I've had enough of living like a demented bag lady, that's for sure.

The Lowdown

Dear Bec,

The ONLY thing I have managed to keep up with is my yoga, albeit in a
heavily modified form. I now know ALL ABOUT how to treat totally fucked up,
very unhappy and exceedingly unwell people with restorative practices.

That's okay. Practice is practice, and I had all but given up trying to keep
up with everybody else anyway. Got a Big Lecture from the yoga teacher, just
as I went down for the count, about working at my own pace, which was
encouraging in a fucked up, conceding total defeat sort of way. Gave me
something to have a Big Think about as I lay in bed, sincerely wanting to
die.

I am also more informed about exactly how long a teenager can last on an
exclusive diet of 2 minute noodles, fried eggs and pizza. Answer: an
amazingly long time without visible signs of deterioration.

I am crocheting a rabbit. I think it's a rabbit. It could also be a penguin.

And funny you should ask about Mym's piercings. She just had her second one
done today. On the other side of her face. At least she's even, now.

Yielding Easily is the New Me.

Gorgeous to hear from you. It really is. I miss Badger and Joke, too. And
Stomper, and Leah, and Mary and Suse and Jude and Alison.  I do hope they're not all dead. I would be so
embarrassed.

I may post this email on the blog. I can't be buggered writing it again all
differently.

Shula
xo

Viral Ingredient

I have a virus on my computer.

I'll be offline until it's fixed.

Not happy. Not one little bit.

Melbourne 2008 National Iyengar Yoga Convention

The final day of the Melbourne 2008 National Iyengar Yoga Convention finds me sitting at my kitchen table, eating semolina and doing the crossword.

The convention was a blast, and Jawahar Bangera is an Awesome Dude, but 3 hours of standing poses yesterday left me feeling like I've had a hip replacement.

 

Slowly, slowly, I'm learning to recognise when I've had enough of a good thing, before I'm laid out by it.

Then again, maybe I should go to the afternoon session.

My headstand needs all the help it can get. Those feet are a disgrace.

Namaste.

Emergency Surgery

What to do when the dog eats the eyes off your toy puppy, unwittingly removing its entire face in the process?

No worries. Just build him a new one.

Proving, once and for all, that skin graft rejections can be effectively minimised by the liberal application of navy blue wool