not a love song

It may not be a love song but this didn't stop me falling in love with this awsome package from the rockin'est Cornelian Cherry.

Not only did I get a copy of her brilliant 'CD Swap 2' CD complete with stunning cover design, I also got 2 bonus CD's, each packed with really really good music (that's been making me very happy).
And not only did I get CD's but I also got sweet stickers!
And an adorable envelope!
And the most perfect quilt impersonating card with a lovely embossed padding effect! (I love the card).

It's all soooo much more than I expected and put me in a hyper-grateful mood for the rest of the week. Thank-you so much Allison. (I'll comment more on the actual music when I've had a couple more listens, but so far I'm really liking all of it, especially 'Cursive').

I actually have been thinking all quilty lately, and have had a pile of fabric and wadding waiting patiently for me to start sewing for about 3 weeks now. I just need to get this other little project I'm working on out of the way first (expect a sneak-peak when I'm done). At least I know I'll have loads of excellent tunes to keep me sew-happy. (heh heh, sorry, bad pun).

See how chirpy I am? And now it's a long weekend! Bring it on.

please remain calm

Thinking about the ‘escape’ theme for Illustration Friday last week reminded me of our last fire alarm at work.

We pried our boss from his email as the alarm rang out across the building. We each checked one another were there, did a quick headcount and hurried in an orderly fashion out the door, down the hallway, into the fire escape, and STOPPED!

We didn’t get more than 5 steps down before being blocked by a wall of elderly bridge players trepidaciously negotiating the stairs. In a fatal design flaw, a bridge (card playing) club occupies the entire first floor of our twelve storey office building, and shares the same fire escape as the other 11 floors.

Two by two they ambled into the stairwell from the floor below us. Clinging onto each other and then handrails on either side, they formed a fragile yet impenetrable cobweb of elderly limbs across the width of the passageway. Now, these are the folk who either zoom into the lifts on their ride on buggies nearly running you down in the process, or inch their way in bit by bit on their zimmer frames, or a best, block the lift doorway from anyone else getting in before the doors close as they hunch over the buttons squinting to find their floor. So, all things considering, they were having immense trouble with the stairs. (Its probably lucky they weren’t on the top floor).

The fire escape quickly filled like a silo of grain, with people pouring into the stairwell from the other 11 floors, and stopping in their tracks. What made it worse was that much like clowns in a mini, the old folk kept on coming! There must have been 300 of them in there, and just when you thought you’d seen the last one, the door would spring back open and another endless stream of them would start up.

Assuming it was a false alarm or drill, everyone remained calm and quite well spirited. There were various muffled giggles from the spiral of people above, and before too long the jokes started:

“Why don’t we each pick one up and run down the stairs”
“How many of them are in there?”
“Shouldn’t they have their own escape hatch, like a firemans pole”
“…or a spiral slippery-dip like at a playground”
“…or one of those inflatable slides they have on planes”
“I’m going back to work”
And even an anonymous panicked “They’re old, they’ve had their life, let us live!”

Eventually the bridge playing battalion made their way out and the rest of us followed. By now (some 12-15 mins later) all sense of urgency was lost – we ignored our meeting points at the designated assembly areas and nicked off to a café.

We found out later on our return, that there had actually been a fire in one of the upper floors of the building. After the shock and mortified silence had passed we decided next time to take the evacuation into our own hands: unravel all our socks, knit the thread into a rope ladder and each climb out the window – which would likely be a much quicker means of escape!

fresh garden glory

My Illustration Friday entry for 'fresh'.

The smell of freshly cut grass is a new sensation in our household (or gardenhold). We moved into our house just before Winter kicked in this year. Out the back where a patch of grass may have been at one point, were a series of mini replica WW1 bunkers dug into the dirt, with not a sprout of grass to be seen.

When the previous tenants came back to pick some stuff up not long after we'd moved in, the cute little girl of the family asked "Do you have a dog?"
"No, do you?" (living in a rental house we're not suppose to have pets)
"Yes" she replied chirpily
"Oh, is that who dug the holes in the back garden?"
"No, that was our bunny"

Our Winter gardening efforts consisted of flattening the dirt patch out, and filling in the bunny-burrows. Once the worst of the Winter chill had passed we sprinkled some grass seed (which the birds were most delighted about), and lo-and-behold we now have a lovely delicate spindly lawn! It's like magic!

This is the first time we've lived in a place with a garden, so the whole magic of Spring is a very new novelty. Each time I go outside I discover yet another plant has un-expectantly burst into bloom, even ones I thought were nearly dead.
And who knew the tree out the back would transform into an amazing constellation of tiny white flowers?

a cup of tea instead

One of my favourite desk decorations is a card I got from the art gallery some time ago. Accompanied by an adorable illustration, it says:
"Unable to make a decision Cecily made a cup of tea instead".

If I ever had to sum myself up in 50 words or less, this is what I'd write.

(is that the kettle boiling I hear? excuse me a minute...)

with added plumpness

So, I’m not the most girly of girls when it comes to the regimes of beauty, skin care, hair care and fancy nails. I’ll admit I dye my hair, have more products than I need for this and that, and I can’t remember the last time I left the house without at least a quick lashing of mascara, but I like to think I don’t fall for gimmicks.

I maintain a healthy cynicism when those ads come on t.v. touting the newest “technologies” from the “institutes”.

t.v.: “…noticeably lengthens your lashes up to 3 times”
me: “HA! And how, prey-tell does it do that?”

t.v.: “…a new ultra shine lip gloss with actual diamond shine particles, for real diamond shine”
me: “ Real diamond shine particles? What is a diamond shine particle exactly? Who’d fall for that?”

t.v.: “…new foundation with added caffeine to wake up your skin!”
me: “Marketing team comes to the rescue after Beryl spills her coffee in the mixing cylinder.”

But every now and then, in a moment of weakness (usually after accruing a new wrinkle), I get sucked in…

… BIG TIME!

It’s mega. It’s plump. It’s hot. It’s pouting. According to Jonni on the packet “Plump lips are soooo sexy”, AND claims “…to keep you healthy looking and beautiful forever”.

And I tell you, it really works!
Well, it sort of works… …it might work.
Okay okay, I can’t see any difference… at all.
So I’m a mega, plump, hot, pouting sucker.

Mr You couldn’t believe I put it on for the first time yesterday morning, he thought he could notice plumpness already. “You’re crazy! You should have tried it on a weekend first. What if it kicks in half way through the day while you’re at work, and something hideous occurs!? Like on The Nutty Professor.”

He ogled my lips intently, waiting for some kind of sudden movement. Then, as I attempted to kiss him goodbye, he held me at arms length with all his might.
“Stay away, I don’t want that stuff on my lips!”
There was a struggle and then some chasing, but eventually I landed a kiss square on his forehead.

Then I headed off to work feeling “sooooo sexy”, leaving him fearing the sudden onset of a plump luscious lump in the middle of his forehead for the rest of the day. Worth every cent I tell you.

weekend escape

My Illustration Friday entry for 'escape'.

Just this last weekend we had an escape of our very own. We spent the weekend moseying through the Blue Mountains. I spent my high school years there, so it was a bit reminiscent for me. We had a great weekend and managed to do so many things without feeling like we were rushed or cramming things in and it was all very relaxing.

I took Mr You to a spot I remembered from back then called the Mushroom Tunnel. It’s an old disused railway line that leads into a tunnel right in the side of a hill, and you have to walk through the bush to find it. I was amazed how I was able to remember the way after all these years, just from a visual map somewhere in the depths of my memory. I remembered the creek, and the hill, but also subtle things like a fallen log, and the flatness of a certain area. It’s an amazing sight: a railway tunnel entrance made from large sandstone blocks, that hasn’t been used in close to 100 years, buried deep in the bush.

We also managed to go to an incredible lookout, we happened upon a craft market with fresh strawberries the size of golf balls, bumped into some dear old friends, looked at lots of little galleries and craft shops, and had coffee and bread and butter pudding in a quaint café in one of the many cute villages.

The next morning we got up bright and early and headed down out of the mountains to the ‘Trash & Treasure’ markets in the suburbs. We packed our car until it bulged, and we’re thinking of going back for another go in the not too distant future.
I tell you, only the deep suburbs can do ‘Trash & Treasure’ markets like they can!

(OOPSY! I gave it away there. Yes, unfortunately, we were actually travelling in a green car, not a purple patchwork balloon. There’s always a next time.)

riveting

Have you seen this Ex Girlfriend Project thing yet? I'm so hooked, I can't explain it yet, it's just compelling.

It's like all the things you've always wanted to tell people but never have.
And at the same time hearing all the truths you always wished people would have just told you, but never did.

Remember blog etiquette though, especially with this one, I'd die if he had to stop before the end. Like I said, I'm hooked.

(Tip: There's a "read this first" on the right, to give it all better context).