tea + wool

It's only mid March, but I'm so excited to snuggle up in the new apartment, start a new crochet project and sip endless cups of tea!

New colours to choose, new flavours to discover.

  

There's also the chunky scarves, warm long socks, ugg boots, beanies & flannelette pj's to look forward to. 

A million soup recipes to be cooked. 

Endless warm cuddles to be shared. 

Winter adventures to be had.  

we now own a little home

We always wanted a big backyard, a bbq and dogs.

Saving for our first home last year, we had exactly that in mind. We day-dreamed, fantasised and spent hours scrolling through thousands of houses for sale online. Even building became an option when house+land packages surprisingly fell into our budget. When that deposit was just in reach, we went and looked at a few old houses in Camden, NSW. Both growing up in South West Sydney, we loved Camden for its little cafes, produce markets and community culture. It was still close to where we grew up, to our families and friends. It was familiar; it felt like 'us' and the obvious way to go. But we both worked in the city and it meant traveling an extra hour every day. We were pretty sure that it would be worth it.

Last September, we bought our very first home - a little apartment in Marrickville, NSW. We completely changed our minds, changed our paths and changed our lives. I've always believed that things have a way of just falling into place when they are supposed to happen, and this is a perfect example. We didn't really know the area, but liked what we had seen of neighbouring suburbs and loved the idea of being closer to the city. So we just did it. We took a bit of a leap. We didn't over think it or weigh up the pros and cons. We decided to go on an adventure. It payed off.

Our ground floor 2-bedroom apartment is home. Older in style with gorgeous wooden floorboards, high ceilings and huge white walls, it's small but just big enough for two. It houses our little nick-knacks perfectly, with the kitchen window sill my favourite place to display plants, teapots and spices. The paint peeling off the window frames adds to its character, as do the daddy long legs' living in the corners. We shower in the bath tub and friends crash on our couch. We don't have a clock, matching sheets, a dishwasher, a microwave or a vacuum cleaner - but we're perfectly content with the imperfectness. We're enjoying simple, smart living. There's no lawns to mow, and not a lot of house work to do at all. It's so, so quiet and we often think we're the only ones in the entire block. We are surrounded by green trees, and  hear the birds in the morning, the rain drops as they fall and the crunch of leaves is now the sound of home. It is so nice when we do see the neighbours though, and the smell the multicultural meals being prepared reminds us of our little community.

Marrickville (what we've discovered so far) is an absolute treasure, and we're so lucky to have stumbled upon it. There is just so much to look at - vegetable gardens, mosaic tiles, federation homes, fruit trees, Nonna's in nighties, old men having conversations on corners, art, graffiti, tattoos, recycling, FOOD, hipsters, planes as they fly by and the city skyline not so far away. There's still so much to see, so many places to explore and so many memories to create.

We're getting fatter though. There's not much time for exercise with all the food there is to eat. There's the pork rolls which never fail to satisfy any hunger type, craving or snack decision (just can't describe their goodness), the Greek bakeries selling ridiculously cheap cakes (and breads and biscuits and macarons and pastries), the Vietnamese restaurants serving flavour-bursting pho and fresh rice paper rolls (currently working our way through the 8 or so we have within walking distance), the best pizza ever (an important staple), Portuguese around the corner at Petersham, our favourite Turkish over at Newtown (+ all the other amazing eats along Enmore Rd) and then there's the coffee! A Sunday breakfast cafe venture with friends is our favourite - there's Vesbar serving huge Italian doughnuts with a knife and fork on rustic breadboards, and Beejay's which turns into an awesome little bar at night. For more baked goods, there's Bourke St Bakery and we are still yet to try Double Roasters and Cornersmith! The local markets are insane. While a bit hesitant at the beginning, Chris is all on board for our Sunday market veggie-stock-up-sessions now that he has discovered THE BEST BACON & EGG ROLLS (yep, indescribably good!). The local grocer Bananna Joes is great for pistachios and spanish salami, while the outdoor Asian grocers have fresh herbs for 50c a bunch, bananna leaves (must make pad thai & get these for serving), fresh rice noodles and mangoes the size of my head. Then there's our Turkish grocer down the road selling fresh roasted nuts, buckets of cheese and spices by weight. So our pants are tighter but our bellies are happier. We did buy bikes though, and the plan for this year is to find the perfect balance between eating and still being able to fit into our clothes.

The hardest, hardest part and only downfall to this little adventure, is that my Oscer Boy cannot be part of it. I could never leave a dog alone all day in an apartment - no way. I know he has a very, very happy life with my Mum and his brother Ollie, with a big backyard to run around and cats to chase. But I do miss him - oh so much and everyday. Of course he visits us in Marrickville and we visit him, and the time we now spend together is very special. There was one day though not too long ago when we just had to doggy-nap him for a sleepover.
 

We won't be here in the little Marrickville apartment forever. The feeling of discovering a new place is just too good. We do want a house, with a backyard, a BBQ and dogs, but it will come.  Stories of "that little apartment in Marrickville" have already started, including the beaded necklace which broke on the day we moved in (will be finding tiny green beads forever!), the birth of one of my girlfriend's drunk alter egos (Phil!), and the Christmas Eve nerf gun war by candlelight. We know these stories will be remembered and cherished. It's a special time in our lives - and we love it.

 

Absolutely more Marrickville photos to come!

a granny blanket for our new home

It all started here. Inspiration came from there. Now we have a new home & a colourful granny blanket to share! 

dogs i love

oscer.

My first dog love and its a once in a lifetime love. He can sit, shake with both hands, drop, high-five with both hands and high-ten (rolling-over is over rated). He snores, yawns loudly, howls when hes excited and yaps when he dreams. He will do anything for a walk, or better yet a trip to the beach. He loves to swim in the waves, dig holes and make sure that he is completely covered in sand. His curls get the girls. He goes by the nick names of osc, nugget, nug, mc-nugget, oscypoo, osca-la- bosca, bubba, babaganoush, baby-boy, fluffington & snugglepot. He is moody & will let you know if you're not in his good books. His favourite food is cheese and schmakos. His enemy is the cat next door. He loves a bath and voluntarily lifts his paws up one by one to let me get to them. He digs holes, but only to get the cat. He has been known to bung on a sore leg for extra attention. He loves a good cuddle. He is my absolute best friend in this whole world. We just get each other.

ollie.
Younger brother to oscer and all the more cheeky. Found him on Pet Resucue & fell in love with his face instantly. He has the longest skiniest legs which he uses leap and bound like a little lamb. He's definitely not a morning dog and growls if you try and get him out of bed. We call him ollie-wollie, ollie-wollie-cat-dog, oliver, wolly, wolly-woo and waldo. He likes to have a good old chat and loves chewing (gently) on brother Oscer's tail.

sheeba.
American staffy x big teddy bear, this gorgeous girl is sometimes mistaken for a wombat, and one time even a rissol! After being fed way too much devon, she is currently on a diet & her bottom is already less wobbly! I have always had a soft spot in my heart for sheebs. She is a very special girl. 

jazzy.

A little stumpy cupcake of a dog who isn't afraid to take on her big sister sheeba. The perfect size to curl up in a crochet blanket with.

fred.

Was the most gentle pup with easily mowhawkable fur. He always had a sparkle in his eye & had a such good life with a very loving family.

francine.

A beautifully elegant girl who loves to take nanna naps in the sun. Who could resist those spots!

willow.
Cheeky, bubbly and has secondary spots. She also eats her own poo, but she is absolutley adorable. 

toby.

I have known this little man for over 10 years - that makes him a grandpa!

roxy.

Loves ripping the washing off the line, but she has a good heart.

scooby.

Look at that doggie smile! Such a good all-round family dog.

mia.
Crazy as a pup but has now settled into being a good girl. Loves swimming in the pool and riding on her boogie board.

mav.

 I don't do cats. But this one i kind of like.

I do like goats too!

treasures from bondi's garage sale trail

What better way to shop second-hand than wondering in the sunshine, through hundreds of little garage sales lining the streets of Bondi as part of the 2012 Garage Sale Trail!

It was a lovely sister's saturday - browsing, haggling & collecting a range of treasures from a vw kombi badge for $3, japanese noodle bowls for $1 and freebie of the day, Bernard the gnome.

Lunch at Jed's Food Store was delicious & the perfect recharge to continue bargaining into the afternoon.

I managed to tick a few things off my wishlist - teaspoons, blazer, vintage maps which i can frame as art and & a $2 leather travel wallet filled my leather desire for the day :) 

The Garage Sale Trail truely is a fantastic initiative which supports sustainability, community & creativity. Would love to host my own little community sale next year!

garage sale trail wishlist

Can't wait to get out there tomorrow and dig through all ($2.2m worth!) the unwanted treasures!

My 2012 garage sale trail wishlist:

1. leather boots

2. collection of mis-matched teaspoons (for a secret birthday project)

3. patchwork bedcover like this one

4. blazer or coat

5. piece of art

or i'd be super happy with any item from this pic :)

a granny square a day

The small world trapped in a single train carriage can be a very fascinating, and even entertaining thing to observe.

You have the sleepers; the ones who run for a window seat so that they can rest their heads on the glass, not at all bothered by the oily imprint left over from the last person’s forehead; the ones who slowly give in to their heavy drooping heads, only to be startled and sit up suddenly acting like they weren’t falling asleep at all. Then there are the newspaper readers, who need to know the art of origami to be able to fold the paper in a way in which it doesn’t disturb the person sitting next to them. There are the snorers; which range from the tolerable snifflers and whistlers, to the huge beastly roarers that forcefully inhabit innocent eardrums. The make-up appliers who mechanically construct each layer on their face, a practised skill that involves careful timing, especially with the mascara. The music listeners; avoiding the evil stares from people around them who are forced to listen to their second-hand muffled beats. The iPhone addicts, flicking through their apps like prized possessions; their colourful screens dazzle them while they warm up their fingers for a busy screen-tapping day ahead. The iPad owners know they are the cool kids. They pull out their gadget with a ‘na na, mine’s bigger’. Now, with the loud conversationalists we have; the mothers groups chatting about their lazy husbands, the school kids gossiping, the awkward catch up conversations between two people that haven’t seen each other in a while, and the worst; phone conversationalists who purposefully speak loud enough so that the 50 or so strangers around them are forced to listen to their one side of a conversation. There are the work-a-holics, who pull out their laptops in an attempt to get some work done. The couples, which use the trip as an opportunity to catch up on some canoodling, perhaps even a spot of grooming. Then we come to novel readers, who usually keep pretty still and well, normal, apart from the odd women so engaged in her romance novel that she gently strokes her skin with her bookmark. There’s the hair twirlers, the Manga movie watchers, the nose pickers, the nail clippers!

If you sit at the back of the train, you can see a sea of bobble heads moving around in unison to the rhythm to the train’s movements. Like a Mexican Wave, it’s mesmerising. There will be times when a train carriage is completely silent, other times there will be a cocktail of conversations and laughter. It is interesting to think about a whole second set of train commuters either upstairs or downstairs; is their train carriage culture the same or different? A heated carriage in winter has a certain sense of cosiness to it, where as a non-air conditioned carriage in summer is a swarm of frustration and sweat.If you’re on your own, a train ride is the most unsociable thing you could possibly do given your very close proximity to 50 or so other people. It is common train carriage courtesy not to touch the person next to you, let alone speak to them – they are strangers.

I am definitely not a make-up applier or a snorer, but there was a stage when I did find myself shifting between a couple of tedious routines, from dozing off to sleep only to wake up suddenly realising I had my mouth wide open, to Facebooking! I hated it; but what else was there to do? It was there on my phone and I was sitting on a train for an hour and twenty minutes. I knew that it was getting to the point of ridiculousness when it wasn’t merely enough for me to log in once, I needed to check my phone constantly to be updated on people’s early morning statuses. Reading about people who I didn’t even know stuck in traffic or hating on Mondays was not a very exciting start to my morning. But I was addicted and I had to make a change. 

A year ago I went out and bought a crochet needle and six fresh balls of brightly coloured wool. I assumed that old people knew how to do these domestic past time things, so I went to visit my Nan. A dedicated knitter (not crotchetier, and yes, they are two completely different things she tells me), she was puzzled as to why I wanted to learn. I told her that it was cool, or rather, that I was going to make it cool. She didn’t believe me. Back in her day, she knitted because she couldn’t afford to buy warm clothes; it was a necessity. It really didn’t have anything to do with fitting in. These days, not fitting in can be more rewarding than fitting in! My oh my, how the times have changed. Here I was, prepared to learn how to crochet for no particular reason other that I had an urge to learn something new.

As a typical 24 year old, it is in my genetic make-up that if I need to find out something, I Google it. I typed in ‘learn how to crochet’ and was surprisingly presented with an abundance of YouTube video clips, all containing a pair of warm, gentle, well experienced hands, slowly taking me through the steps. Surprisingly, I picked it up really quickly. I was proud of myself; I could actually see something being formed in the palms of my hands. So, I decided to make a colourful Granny Square, which would ultimately be sewn together with other Granny Squares to make a blanket. My fingers agreed, and rhythmically fell into a pace. As soon as I had the knack of it, I realised what I had accomplished – I had learnt something new.

It is addictive. As soon as I finish one square, I want to make a new one. The sense of accomplishment after completing each square is warming and contenting. Choosing the patterns is exciting. It’s the feel of the wool, the brightness of the colours, the pattern running over and over in my head; treble stitch, chain stitch, treble stitch, chain stitch. It’s the way my mind is freed. I can actually physically do something and think about a whole lot of other things at the same time. My hands are busy, and I don’t have the need to reach for my phone. It’s two hours and 20 minutes out of my day that I have reclaimed as my own. There is something about physically making something that is so much more rewarding than getting a high score on Angry Birds. Making is the new buying; it’s in fashion, it's ... cool!

So if you ever decide to dedicate a morning train ride to the observation of train carriage culture, I’ll be the young lady sitting with my colourful wool, treble stitching away, a Granny Square a day.

If you would like to learn how to crochet, or even better - get on board the Granny a Day bandwagon, visit the beautiful blog Meet Me At Mikes for extremely helpful and motivating Granny Square Tutorials.