Aunty Cookie Wed, 13 Jan 2016 23:00:06 +0000 en-US hourly 1 new years vibes Wed, 13 Jan 2016 22:23:01 +0000 Continue reading ]]> jan14_2016

I used to make so much stuff. I was always making, always had my mind in the making game. These days the most creative I get is shortening the smallest kids tankini into a bikini because her sisters wear bikinis and she doesn’t. Maybe because she’s five and doesn’t live in a trailer. Although technically camping in a camper is like living in a trailer, albeit for two weeks. So sure, she got the bikini. But that’s where my creativity stops. I even had to stop myself from buying cushions the other day. What kind of crafty ho buys cushions? None I tell you. The Janome is out, and she’s bought that fabric online faster than you can say feather down insert.

I fool myself in saying all the writing I do is creative. And I guess it is, as I am making shit up as I go along but it’s not get your hands dirty creative. Not that getting my hands dirty was ever my thing, But cutting and sewing and drawing and thinking out little things in my head and then turning that into something. That was something I did, like on the regs. I guess having nearly two years away from that life I once led I have hit that point where I want a little of it back. Today I cleaned my studio again, getting rid of more old stuff and empty containers of old stuff and cringing at old stuff. I used to stash and hoard, and now I am purging it all. I have one tub of mixed fabrics. I’m not sure why I am keeping them, I sewed one quilt in 2015, and it sat on my desk for two months waiting to be basted and quilted and bonded and sent. It got there after the baby was born, I never was like that. I was onto it. I was cranking it out. I was sharing it ’round. I was prolific.

I guess most people go through this in January. Everything is all about the fresh start. I have come home from holidays cleaning rooms out and rearranging spaces. I feel as though I am ready to dip my foot back in some sort of creative pool. I’m not sure what I’ll make, when I’ll find the time or whether I’ll share it. But I guess the point is that I have that feeling back, it’s been gone for a few years and now my hands are itching again.

I’m not promising anything.

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admission time Wed, 04 Nov 2015 00:40:33 +0000 Continue reading ]]> + I don’t really understand the basics of paleo, I dont even pronouncing it right.
+ I am always thinking about how I can work more efficiently.
+ I have three rogue hairs on my chin that keep coming back.
+ I fear then when I get old and stop caring I’ll have a beard.
+ I hate losing. I want everyone to win, but not when they are against me.
+ I would wear my dressing gown all day if I could.
+ I like helping people work stuff out. But I’m a little tough love.
+ As soon as I saw the Weeknd sing ‘The Hills’ with Nikki Minaj on SNL I bought his album.
+ My anxiety is nowhere near being under control.
+ I haven’t cooked from a cookbook other than the CWA Classics cookbook in years.
+ I have a solid list of go-to people. One for work, one for fun, one for sport.
+ Approaching an Australian netballer and telling them you love them is fine.
+ And I’d do it again. Cos I do love her.
+ I’d like to get the point where wearing ugg boots to meetings is A.OK.


C’mon. Spill it.
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instagram Fri, 09 Oct 2015 04:02:04 +0000 Continue reading ]]> October9_2015

This week I created a new social media strategy for a hopeful client. It’s roots are firmly based within the stationary industry, and this excites me. Love me some papers, love me some fresh new pencils and beautiful wrapping paper. I also got to spend a few hours researching bright, gorgeous Instagram accounts. Because that’s exactly what I need, more time wasting on the internet. But jeez there are some good feeds about the traps. The colour, the consistency, intricate curation and the output is crazy. I guess that’s why people get paid to be Instagrammers. It gave me so many ideas for this potential job.

Each time I post an image on Instagram I seem to lose a follower. I am the anti-Instagrammer. You can’t pay for shit like that. Maybe I should have written that in my proposal ‘Sure! For you I can grow your brand, but working for myself, I lose nothing but friends daily.’ I am glad to be back at the point that I Instagram for myself, not for my business. I put so much effort into clients accounts; it’s relaxing to go to a ‘safe’ space and post images that reflect me. I am not selling anything and it’s such a nice change. I am not trying to connect with anyone. I am just sharing for sharing’s sake.

Imagine that, not stretching the truth on the internet. How novel.


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black and white Tue, 15 Sep 2015 10:33:18 +0000 Continue reading ]]> September15_2015

Things I have been collecting on Pinterest. I’m way more fun on Pinterest. I post all the time. Actually I don’t ‘post’ – I ‘pin’. It’s nice and quiet, and colourful and I feel at home over there. No one talks to me and it’s very attractive.

You can follow me if you’d like. It’s all pictures. No words.

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sssshhhh Fri, 12 Jun 2015 03:14:56 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I have been entertaining myself with thinking up names for people who arnt too talkative.

chatty. mr chatty. hey chattster. chatty karchattian. chats town funk. chatstone shopping centre. lady chatterly’s lover. sir chatterly. sir chatsworth. chatsworth prison. chitchatterer. chitty chatty bang bang. chat stevens. chat faker. the chats pyjamas. the artists formerly known as colin. chatty mcchatskins. chit chat back chat. chatlyn jenner. chat potato. charlie chatlin. chattanooga choo choo. chatty and the chattolate factory. chai latte. kimchi chatty pants.

Give me five minutes and I’ll think of some more.

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april and may Thu, 14 May 2015 23:05:31 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I have been too busy for you blog. You are still my homepage though, I think thats the only reason why my analytics says I have page hits is because I open the internet 20 million times a day. And there you are. A sad old page with a post written months ago. Oh well, Ive been busy man. But so what? who isn’t. Everyone is busy. Making shit, talking about what food they are eating and posting about why no one reads blogs anymore and how to make money from your blog and enter this comp so I can get your email address for my subscriber list so I can approach people for sponsorship. Woah, clearly got some issues coming through here. Whatever. Blog schmog. So grumpy. So busy. So important.

I went into an Aesop store the other week to purchase a gift for a mate and a gift for myself,  otherwise known as just buying something because I wanted it. Yes, a luxury item. And the dude behind the counter was so cool it hurt. I shouldn’t even really say counter because it’s not, it’s just some cool old drawers. He had a man bun and some of those harem pants. I imagine that when he is in his late 30’s he’ll look back at this memory and think ‘what the fuck?’ just the way I do when I think about all the purple I wore with my long, long straight black hair. This dude offered me some tea whilst browsing, it was all in hushed calming tones which made me suspicious. And a little annoyed. I just wanna buy my stuff and get out, please don’t prolong my experience with banter. So no, no tea was had. I think he just nods and shuffles backwards while keeping eye contact with me, like a little monk at a temple. Namaste.

I picked my gifts and the said the fatal word ‘yes, gift wrapped please’. No shazza, take it back. Aesop’s employee of the month eyes lit up and he pulled out what can only be called a scrapbookers bag of wrapping tricks. He wrapped it, he ribboned it, he blessed it, he had sex with it, he cleaned it off and he did a little rain dance with it. He placed it in a hemp vegan thread infused organically printed calico bag, sprayed THE AIR with some sort of smelly goodness and wafted the bag through the spray. Dear god save me. I have been transported into that scenes from Love Actually. Only I am not having an affair with the bug eyed bird from work and I am not that dude from Harry Potter.

I paid. I left. And I thought, I’m gonna blog that shit.


PS. Kate, I love Aesop. I have many of their products and wear them daily. In fact this post was sponsored by Aesop. No, not really.


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future CEO Tue, 03 Mar 2015 01:27:16 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Kid #2 is very proud to be an SRC rep. Let’s just say this is nothing to do with the genes I gave her, it’s all from the other side. Yesterday I received a text saying ‘ Apparently Sadie went to the SRC meeting with a pen and paper ready to take the minutes ‘. This kid is in grade two. It was the first SRC meeting of the year. She is not on the apprentice. So when she got home I started asking about school and the meeting and whether she was told to bring or take notes.

” No I just made a list of things I wanted to do in the school ” Ofcourse you do, this includes wearing school uniforms, creating a shopkins club and a book club. And something about hotdogs. Hi brow shizz.

“Were you told to make a list? When did you make this list?

“At recess, so I could take it to the lunchtime meeting” She’s a planner and she’s organised, I like that.

“Did anyone help you?” Its a long list, mainly incoherent cos the junior CEO cant spell as yet. Remember she’s in grade two.

“No I did it by myself, I may read it to the school at friday’s assembly”

“Are you joking? What do you mean? You are getting up to talk?”

“Yeah I volunteered”

“Alone? or with a grade sixer or something?”

“Nah some kid named Ann, she’s in grade 3”

“So you and some rando kid are getting up?”

“Yep on friday, you should come to assembly” OK. For that I will come.

I’m not sure where this kid came from. But if she can get a shopkins club up and running I am going to change my focus. She’s dropping out of school and coming to work for me.

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lately Mon, 23 Feb 2015 01:35:26 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Well not really lately, because I aint written shizz in four or so months. Why? Why you say? Because I work for others now. Not myself, I’m not selling my crafts and I’m not making patterns with the hope of getting a fabric range, that proved itself to be a situation where I did a lot of work and didn’t get much manoola in return.

I have been busy working for others which is great. It’s nice to be thinking about yourself and what you are going to write about and how your life is that blog worthy and how you don’t have time to make anything so what the hell with you talk about then? Your kids? They’re pretty average and well one is getting all pre-pubey and lanky and still un-co, one thinks she is a rapper and watches too much Jimmy Fallon and the other is just small and rat baggy and talks all the time and likes to stay nude. It’s nice to be able to write for others and get paid and and share your internetty social media skillz with others. I actually do know a little bit about blogging and stuff. Who knew it?

I got bitten by a dog the other week, little fucker bit me through my jeans. I can nearly stand on a surf board after breaking my rule of only sun baking at the beach. I can eat two bounty bars in one sitting. I got best player of last years grand final. I camped for two weeks with a real toilet and didn’t die. I made blogging schedules and social media strategies and redid websites for new clients. I worked out I cant go to all meetings in my sports gear because everyone at the table is in heels and make up. I have been watching not as much TV as usual but that is still quite a lot. I am hoping that by one client taking a break from her business Ill have more time to blog. That’s the plan anyway.

Wat have you been up to?

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portraits Mon, 17 Nov 2014 00:04:00 +0000 Continue reading ]]> draw3

It’s that time of year. If you want a commission portrait of your family, or maybe of your weird mates family – you know the one? With that kid with the eye thingy? Bleurgh. They’re always so hard to buy for those lot. Maybe your mum’s dog get’s a gift. That would be socially unacceptable and a little too Kardashian, but you know, whatever – it’s up to you. Or your crazy aunt has whiskey collection you’d like to draw more attention to because her loudness and undie flashing at every family do needs a visual reason behind it. It’s all cool. I’m skilled. But you need to do it now. I will draw throughout november then post those suckers out in time for you to frame up, wrap and whack under a tree. Once december comes I am pretty much all drawed out.

So what you need to do is email me – I’ll send you the details of what to do and you are sorted. Cross that baby off the list. Or just leave me a comment here or on my facebook page and I’ll message you back and we’ll chat away. Blah blah blah. Or if that’s too hard, I have listed like 50 drawings in my etsy shop right now. And there are a few sad $10 ones sitting in the sale pile. God, can someone just take those off me.

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jeez, great. Sun, 26 Oct 2014 22:22:48 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I played in a netball tournament yesterday. It was tiring, knackering actually but fun to play all day and watch other games all day. Well that’s my idea of a good time, not sure if 98% of the population would agree, but whatever. There was lots of old birds like me whining about injuries and lots of anti inflammatory’s being popped between games with swigs of hydralyte. I had kind of found my people, except I was in a way out in the boon docks suburb and Im not sure ‘my people’ come from over there so let’s just leave it at that. So after all that activity I figured I’d sleep like a log. But no. A massive storm came, woke up most of the house and I had to venture out and watch it. By the way I was really hot in bed last night so I stripped off.

What too much information? It’s vital to the story. I was standing at the back door, nude, watching and waiting for lightening. You know the flashes that light you up for all to see when they flash randomly. So was the neighbour. But I only spotted them after I had watched a few long, bright flashes of lightening that lit us up like a freaking christmas tree. I’m thinking that yes, maybe they got some nude flashes, maybe they didn’t. But what I did see was a very quick shutting of blinds.


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swooper Wed, 15 Oct 2014 02:18:55 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Yesterday a parrot flew way too close to my head and totally freaked me out. Like if my forehead was any bigger there would have been a brushing of skin against wing. Birds are disgusting. And then this morning whilst I was running there were other gross birds swooping about. Why do they do that? It’s so annoying. There I am sweating out of my eyeballs and just willing myself to keep going and I have that shit to deal with, I guess it does take my mind of the amount of pain I feel whilst running. Hey runners – when do you hit that ‘zone’ ? Where you are so entrenched in your own shizz that you forget you’re running. Because I never forget I am running. I never forget that I hate running. But then it’s done and I know I feel better for it. But the birds man, eew.

Running is good for netball though. This is information for the 2% of you who actually give a shit about netball. Actually 2% is probably a bit much. I am much faster and can run longer than I did before I ran. Well no joke genius, it’s called fitness. But I always thought I was kind of fit, maybe because slim people are assumed to be fit. Like my sister who is a stick – is no way near fit. Cigarettes and mince keep her lean. But I have played a few games a week forever and run and bike around a little, it’s not like I ever panted just walking up a hill. Oh anyway, whatever.

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gasbagging Fri, 10 Oct 2014 02:59:39 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Things I have heard, said or been told this week. You can guess which is which.

+ You’re not homeless why ar’nt you at home? + How much do you make doing that? + You should call yourself a strategist + Just say, of course it’s me Sweetcheeks + I’m cashing on one of my vouchers + That’s neck herpes for sure +  Can you stop bouncing all over the court + Do you think Dami Im will sing the anthem with an asian accent? + Love it when people keep the tram seat warm for you, people are ace + $30 for parking, fucking hell + You were never going to be a foot model with those hooves + I’m 87% sure they need you + Drug up and I’ll hide behind your small talk + What the fuck was that?? And then cracked it cos I said what?? +  She was just in front of me – I think she is possibly pregnant + Yo pubetown get in the shower + I don’t need new friends, my social circle is full + You know if it look’s like a canoe, it’s a canoe to me + I won at pulling pork + yep that’s the font, you’re fast on the degoogler + I did ZUMBA. In my house. Alone. Via a DVD. + and by the way, only wogs can call each other wogs + mmm? can ask on instagram – some crafty hoe may know something + Perfect short answer for the stalkers + I say weird to getting a massage at the house + When was the last time you went through someone else’s bin? When I was hungry. + My first impression of India is that it seems like Singapore. + Ahhh What? + Those wasabi peas are  doing my ass no good + You know I’m happy to not ever run. Like again. In my life. +

Happy weekend. I hear the sun is coming out.

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farquaaar Wed, 08 Oct 2014 04:19:20 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I think I could easily be one of those ladies who lunch. If I had unlimited funds and no conscious I’d be one for sure. You see for two days a week the smallest kid is at creche. The older two are at school. These are my two ‘work days’. By work I mean designing, drawing, social media’ing and general admin’ing for a few people.  Technically this stuff can be done anytime of the day. I could work through the night on my phone (but when would I watch my stories?) and I can pre plan posts and schedule updates. I could fall down a crack den for a few days and no one would notice, work wise that is. The kids may notice. Ah hello, anyone picking me up today? Fine I’ll cook my own dinner.

One day on the holidays a mate & I dropped the kids at a horse day thing. You know, they groom, ride & feed the things I guess. From 9 -1pm. See you later. We went for a run, when I say run I really mean run – walk – whinge – stop – admire the view – run some more. Oh that was a bit tiring, let’s stop. We ate a very large breakfast. At leisure. Slowly. Then we went for a massage. An hour long, oil based massage. Now this is not a usual day for me. This was super indulgent, total luxury freaking awesomeness. I could do this every day. Take you underwear off if you’d like for the massage, well no problem. I’ve already done it. Would you ladies like another coffee? well why not hey, ha ha ha chink chink. we were pretty much loving ourselves sick.

So today, as I sat for my first real ‘work day’ all I could think of was going for lunch or ducking off for a quick neck rub by anyone I don’t know. Not making some sad toastie with whatever is in the fridge, or reheating the slops from last night’s dinner. So I went out for lunch. La di da. I’ll start real work tomorrow.

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ladiez Mon, 06 Oct 2014 07:07:41 +0000 Continue reading ]]> The two older kids go to a school that has curriculum days every first day of term. I don’t care too much about the inconvenience. I mean what’s one more day? Anyway. I took them and two mates to bounce. The wall to wall tramp joint that must have at least 5 broken bones a day, the joint where wearing leggings as pants is acceptable and as I have found out – the joint where grown women can fight with each other.

Kind of like the time I sat at a local dance school as Sadie did her highly inappropriate hip hop class. I play wordworm for an hour. A boggle/tetris like game that is no longer available on download for some dumb reason because it’s the best game ever. The worm eats the words and burps. Anyway, this game consumes my time, at times, when time aint precious and needs to be killed. So one night I sat and played an listened to this gaggle of women just crack the shits about something a teacher had said to one of their daughters.

Something to the effect of “You need to start thinking if you want to continue doing this class”. Ie, stop fucking about and listen or you won’t get the steps. Fine by me. I agree. Don’t waste people’s time. But these mums were not thinking along those lines. Oh no. It turned in to an hour long debate – how dare the teacher talk to (lets call her Sienna – every kid at this place seems to be called Sienna) Sienna like that, she’s been awake since 6am this morning (OK then why is she at a 7pm dance class – she’s not 17) and so stressed at school, of course being humiliated by the teacher in front of her class would upset her, who does this teacher think she is (argh…her teacher?) Should I report her? I am going to send an email, yeah I may call them tomorrow, how dare she? 

Really? Give these ladies an hour and watch them spin out of control. I didn’t need to play word worm I needed to know what was going to happen next. Was the poor 16 year old teacher going to lose her part time job? Likely the only job she’ll ever get as a dancer. Huh? Was she? Were these mum’s going to bring her down. Or were these mum’s going to get their kid out of their 8th dance class for the night and give Sienna a break? Not sure. Didn’t stick around. But I did vow to myself to not gossip to the point of hysteria from a snippet of conversation.

Now these ladies today – at Bounce. As their kids obliviously jump the bejesus outta themselves. Fighting about who is able to tell who what and whom is friends with whom and what the fuck would you know about the situation and all I know is you should shut up and they are my friends. No it wasn’t quiet words, it was total outside voice scenario in an airplane hangar full of kids. Yes, you should shut the fuck up and mind your own business and no I am sick of you starting shit like this.

I think I’m a freak magnet. Or my ears are too big.

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thursday Thu, 02 Oct 2014 06:54:22 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I made the kids scoot next to me as I went for a run this morning. Last school holidays I let them stay home for about 45 minutes along whilst I ran cos they are a drag and would just be all in my face and whiny if I made them run that far. And I like to run with my headphones on and they would be nagging and talking and it would be more annoying to have to constantly take my earphones out to pretend to listen. Best leave them at home. I run half way, call home – have a chat, check that they are alive and then I run home. I think that is kinda A.OK parenting. They are 10 & 7 by the way. The baby, who is nearly 4 and the size of a medium preppie is out of the house. In real care. Not my care. Not everyday, just on those days. Come on. I know I shouldn’t call her a baby because she is not. But she is, to me. Anyhoo.

Since last holidays there has been some hoo-ha about kids being left alone. I like to think that rules has been made for other people. Not people like me. I have aesop hand cream. And hand wash. Kinda crackheads really. I don’t leave them and go and score anything. I don’t wait ’til they’re asleep and hit the hipster wine bar down the street where I could possibly drop $350 in an hour on four drinks alone. I sometimes hit the 7/11 for x2 litres of skinny milk for $5. I sometimes pick up the third kid from creche. I have even been known to walk to the post box 48.2m from my home. I don’t leave the kids in the car – unless it’s to pay for petrol. Which isn’t that often because apparently I always leave the car on empty. Whatever. Or to run into the shop. It’s not hot. They play DJ and somehow manage to get the interior light working to a point I can’t turn it off. But those days are gone.

This morning I made them scoot along side me. Then we did the 7 minute work out app TWICE. So thats 14 minutes. They are craphouse at planking and push ups by the way, talk about twig arms. Then I ran them through about an hours worth of netball drills, which really just means I threw the ball at them really hard until one cried and the other just cracked the shits. I then practised shooting goals, made a few skipping games up which meant they could time me skipping then we walked home.

Way more fun hanging in mums bootcamp then staying at home alone.

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wednesday Wed, 01 Oct 2014 07:58:22 +0000 Continue reading ]]> Some things I remember about school holidays –

Staying at my grandmas and eating golden syrup on toast. Getting bought a fish by her man friend. Yes suspicious. Watching her dance at a weird old person daytime dance function. Getting bought white runners, reeboks (so chic). Getting my haircut. I remember staying at my aunts who made me have a sleep in the middle of the day because we were going roller skating in the afternoon. I was too old for naps, maybe I was just annoying. But I wasn’t happy about it. She also let us watch ‘the shining’ one night. Odd as I was under 10. But in my family that seemed to be a bit of a theme. Watching inappropriate movies at certain ages*. My sister once made us watch ‘Amityville 2: The possession’. We then carried on the tradition by making a younger cousin watch another horror way before he was ready. Let’s just call it the family rite of passage. Not sure where any of our parents were.

This was all with kids and relatives from mum’s side.

As teens we stayed at another aunts place. Dad’s side this time. I remember being able to do whatever we wanted. My sister and I joined in on their paper rounds. Which is just dumb as that meant we had to get up at some ungodly hour to not even get paid. We ate vientettas and pretended we were The Bangles. We never stayed with my Grandma.

These days I have my nieces for one day of the holidays when my sister works. We do RAD STUFF. And by rad I don’t mean screen free, sugar free, outdoor daisy chain making. I mean good shit that you can only do a few times a year cos if you did it more often you’d get massive and run out of money. First we all get our toes done. Give me that chemical shellac so my nails rot – but while they are rotting they look plastic slick and catch my eye every time I sandal up. Then we hit maccas and happy mealed our guts away. Sure swap for a thick shake, its only pig fat dude. But pigs taste so good, everyone knows that. Well except jewish people. Then we wandered about the shops in the city, tried on clothes we never intended to buy and basically just loitered. Like the way you would loiter at a shopping centre in the late 90’s with your mates and your school bags until you got kicked out. Which never happened to me because I was too scared to do stuff like that and I had a part time job since I was 12.5 therefore had no free time to loiter. Then we hit the flicks. Step Up was our bold choice. Like a two hour video clip with very lid music, average acting, even more average storyline but maximum hip hop awesomeness. Because a dance flick is what comes a close second to bgrade horror in my book. Love it. Ate popcorn and lollies and pretty much just gained a few more kg’s.

*Other inappropriate movie watched – Jaws 2 at my grade 3 birthday party.


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stuff Ive been doing Thu, 07 Aug 2014 04:00:13 +0000 Continue reading ]]> No I haven’t been sitting on my ass watching series after series of TV. Well I have been, but that is a strictly PM activity. Which, by the way, has forced on me this must watch TV enmasse not in small weekly snippets kind of lifestyle. No I clearly cannot wait for a week, must watch four episodes in one sitting. Its exhausting. Anyway. In my daytime hours I have been working on this funny ladies’ site – it’s been easy and fun and a pleasure. Nothing like a client who says things like ‘ just do whatever – I like whatever you like ‘

cs-1 cs-2 cs-3

You can check it out in all it’s glory at and you can also like her official facebook page while you are it. Go on. Do it.

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cookie panel bizzo Sun, 20 Jul 2014 23:56:20 +0000 Continue reading ]]> cat&vee-quilt-top

This can be a prime example of how the crafty universe revolves without me, because clearly I thought I was the axis on which it spins. Not. These ace blocks were made by Cat from Cat & Vee and feature my ye olde world, let’s say vintage cookie bits. Wedged sweetly in the centre of what looks like a painfully intricate quilt block & funkyass pincushion. I’ll throw in the word fussy cut because I recently learnt what it meant and it makes me feel very quilty and in a secret club. Along with the quilty word baste which really just makes me feel slightly violated. Anyway, the fabric is so vintage I don’t print it anymore but I do have panels and panels of the stuff here in my shop. And they are at bargain prices. As always, cos I love giving away shit and not even making my cost back. Head for business I have.


If you want some cookie panels they are still available – they are red on white and pretty cute.

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junebug Mon, 16 Jun 2014 03:10:35 +0000 Continue reading ]]> I have been wasting a lot of time lately. Jobs I would normally throw myself into and whip out quick smart have been ball and chaining me. I haven’t been using my work diary very well, infact sometimes Ive been lying to it. I highlight or cross out jobs I haven’t even finished or sometimes even started, that can’t lead to good things. I need one of those dream decipher witches to give me the lowdown on that carry on. Im all about making cups of fake tea and rewarming the heat pack and readjusting my sore knees under my desk and flicking podcasts and just staring out the window at the traffic.

I have finished all of what’s available of Nashville and loved it. Every freakin’ hi y’all episode. It is so cheesy and soapy and good. I will admit I’ve wasted a fair amount of time googling those actors and songs and when it’s coming back on (october by the way, with the walking dead). I’m over my post nashville slump though, I was well in it last week. Kinda like the slump I fell into after reading all the twilight books – sad it’s done but time to move on. Forget I ever said that. Now that it’s done Im back onto Orange is the New Black season 2 and Nurse Jackie season 6. Way less of a possibility of me getting totally entrenched in shows about drug addiction and jail. Not enough twang for my liking, y’all.

I have never been to Bali before and we are heading off soon. I am kinda embarrassed about it, it’s just such an aussie thing to do. And you know it’s not even that cheap. It’s not like we are going scooting about in bin tang tank tops and nightclubbing. I know lots of people love it but I am nervous. More so than I have ever been heading of to Asia. Need to get over myself. Hanging out in a villa can’t be too hard I imagine.

I will be 38 tomorrow. That’s feeling abit old. And you? Not your age, I don’t care about that -What do you have to report?

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mini Wed, 21 May 2014 02:12:00 +0000 Continue reading ]]> mara1mara2  mara3

Last year I made a little mate of Harriet’s a quilt for christmas. It turned out pretty cool. I liked it, had some cool bits of hand printed stuff mixed with spots know the usual look I go for. Abit slap dash. Apparently she takes it everywhere, totally loves it to bits. Which is super cute cos she’s small and she could equally love a hideous doll but no she loves my quilt. I also read that as ‘she wants to be me when she’s older’ but thats not true. Her mum is way cooler than me. Anyway. I figured I’d make her a mini one, because if she loses it, it falls apart in the wash (highly likely with me as it’s maker) or does something to that favourite quilt it’s good to have little back up. And Ive been so glued to the computer for the past few months my need to sew has been waking me up at night. It’s weird how I miss that piece of shit machine. Little frenchie bits of fabric made by Miko Design, by the way.

The amount of times a day Harriet says ‘Mum, mum, mum’ for no real reason – 62.

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