Poppalina

Oh, please God, not another scarf

I think we're finally at the end of the birthday run, in so far as it ever actually ends. Beck and Ramona, in a frenzy of Industrial-Strength Nesting, have me fretting about Christmas already, but I'll get over it.

When I am finally elected Ruler of the Universe, the first thing I'm going to do is pass a law that abolishes obligatory gift-giving. We will only give presents when we feel like it, and it won't have to be for any reason at all. Nay, it must be for NO reason at all.

Vote 1. Shula. Ruler of the Universe.

Anyway, getting back to the subject: this scarf, if you'll permit my immodesty, really is rather beautiful. Recycled 1930s feedsack and linen, matching as though they weren't manufactured seventy years apart. Feels beautiful, looks elegant. For Gillian, whom I know well enough to let her choose the fabrics herself, because she's fussy like that, but really so that I can watch and reluctantly admire the way she hones in, like a long-range exocet missile, on the most cherished items in my stash.

Because that's what friends are for, right?

Bear Parts

What, do you suppose, is the collective noun for ears?

A listening of ears, perhaps?

A hearing of ears?

A rock concert of ears?

Hmmm...

And what of arms? How do you describe a grouping of upper limbs?

Ah, now, that one's easy.

It's an army of arms, of course.

Sometimes I'm so witty, I freak myself out.

Speaking of Acts of Gratuitous Kindness...

This came in the mail today, apropos of absolutely nothing.

Such good timing, too. I'd been having such a cold and confusing morning, and it made me all warm and fuzzy and light.

That Leah, next time I'm passing through Adelaide, I'm going to give her a Bloody Good Talking To.

Mosaic Monday

1. you make everything glorious, 2. Golden book puzzle 1, 3. Now that's what I call textured paint..., 4. Daybreak., 5. Untitled, 6. Vattenloppa, typ. :o), 7. all dressed up, 8. milky, 9. knotted edge, 10. balls, 11. Untitled, 12. Burton, 13. Pencil sketch, 14. Tea + Leaf, 15. The Vomlette finito, 16. Last One, I Think?, 17. intersections, 18. 24th of July, 19. o n e :: a single hydrangea bloom, 20. Cookie, 21. felted mushrooms!, 22. g_italia, 23. Pegs, 24. Thimbles, 25. The Quilt

About Those Pilgrims...

I have to say, apart from their grevious taste in music, and a bewildering inability to grasp no-brainers - there really are too many people on the planet already, so let's not go forth and multiply, shall we? - pilgrims are rather gorgeous to have around.

As it happened, I was obliged to travel to Sydney whilst suffering from a biblically-proportioned onslaught of Carson's Holy Flu. Think Dawn of the Dead and that's me, trying to get the two of us from the alarmingly remote long term carpark to the airport terminal at nothing o'clock with Too Much Luggage and not a trolley in sight. I hereby swear to God that not once, not the whole way, did I ever have to lift my bag, get jostled in the (impressive) queues, get in anyone's face, or so much as listen to an unkind or ratty word spoken by anyone. At every step, I was beset with Acts of Gratuitous Kindness, pilgrims helping without me having to ask for it. It was nothing short of miraculous. Even the airline staff seemed stunned out of their customary state of hyper-grooviness, and I can't tell you what a Blessed Relief that was because we were flying Virgin Blue.

Of course, Sydneysiders might feel differently, having done much harder yards. I freely admit that for most of my stay the only sights I saw were the inside of a medical centre and the equally unfascinating chemist nearby.

So, I'll leave you to ponder that one, along with Leunig's cartoon from today's Age, which actually made me Laugh Out Loud.

Be good, now. God is watching you.

Now this...this is definitely a bear

No two ways about it.

By Shula. Recycled blanket wool, silk. 55cm.

Okay, so that's it, I'm off. I have an overwhelming urge to head north, to wear a polyester tracksuit and sing 'Every sperm is sacred' on station platforms, sporting a beatific smile and one of those dear little mini-backpacks.

Not.

Who in their Non-Christian Right Mind would travel to Sydney during World Youth Week?

I s'pose it could be worse. Could be World Youth Crack Week.

However, if I don't post by next Friday, someone send out a search party. I may need de-briefing.

Even the bear looks worried.

How much can a koala bear?

We interrupt our current obsession with soft toys to bring you more blanket mending.

These are my favourite blankets at Jivana. Hard to photograph, they are the most gorgeous, faded red. They're so soft and worn that I couldn't bear to see them thrown about the studio. I succeeded in looking so distressed - teary, even - that someone took them off the pile and kept them on the stage.

Even so, despite their secondment to Light Duties, they are falling to pieces before my very eyes and really should be taken home and respectfully retired from professional duty. 20 years of having big, strapping bums sitting on you is a lot to ask, even of the most robust cotton blankets.

Memo to me: practice distressed and teary expressions before tomorrow night's class.

Mosaic Monday

1. mat man, 2. 190/366 Blossom, 3. draped, 4. Waiting to be whisked away, 5. penguins, 6. Footsteps, 7. beauty in what remains..., 8. lifegavemelemons, 9. Untitled, 10. AHEAD, 11. mooooooo, 12. Have a Double Shot of Fawn 'tocks!, 13. Stone Garment, 14. cute, 15. before:18, 16. naptime cuteness, 17. Three Women of Mumbai, 18. apron out of a japanese craftbook, 19. tinies, 20. Haze, 21. Untitled, 22. landofshoes, 23. 2 lambs, 24. PICT0010_cr_700, 25. white on blue

It's a Bear! ... no, hang on, it's a rabbit

Hard to tell, really.

One thing is certain: she does look like she's holding a pie.

But she's 100% childproof, and that makes me happy. Call me old fashioned, but I'm trying to produce toys, here, that aren't potentially deadly for Really Little Children.

43cm. Recycled blanket wool, silk, hand embroidery. By Shula. Face design by Mym.

Close, But No Cigar

The Bear needs More Work.

He has a number of Technical Problems, not the least of which is a nose that looks like a fungus growth.

Never mind. Mym likes him, so now he belongs to her.