Christmas countdown

Seven weeks ago I compiled a list of projects that needed to be done before Christmas arrived. There were 22 items on the list, and at the top of the piece of paper I gaily wrote: Currently 11 weeks until Christmas, which means two projects need to be completed each week. Yikes!

Yikes indeed. So far I have completed one. One! And now I am beginning to feel a bit stressed. Usually when this happens I make myself a cup of tea, sit down at the table and write a list. However, it's the darn list that already make that's causing my head to spin. Add to this a billion and one social engagements before the big day... it's a recipe for a headache!

Speaking of headaches, check out my craft table. I think the disorganised mess says it all.

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The call of the sea

Happy snaps from our weekend away:



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What a mug!

Check out what the Mothership brought back from the UK for me! Score! And the best bit is, both Nance and Ev are in my list of top 10 all time favourite authors. So now, whilst sipping on my morning coffee, I'll be enjoying imaginings of Parisian and London life with cocktails and hounds, rather than thinking about the reality of dirty nappies and laundry.

Thank goodness for daydreams!


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Deadlines make them invisible no more

I've always found that it's best to have a finishing deadline when dealing with handknits. Otherwise, the little buggers have a habit of hiding themselves under swatches for more promising projects whose aura of excitement renders the aforementioned knit invisible. This, I have noticed, happens more often when there are many ends to be woven in. Therefore, a deadline of sorts - particularly an event where multitudes of people will swoon over your handknit spewing forth declarations along the lines of beauty, talent etc - comes in mighty handy for not only finding the handknit from it's hiding place but also weaving in the ends, blocking and then sewing the darn thing together.

My deadline: The arrival back of the Motherinlawship from her yearly UK sojourn.
Left to do: Sew Stripy together.
The event: Brunch with inlaw family after picking her up from the airport this weekend.
My cue: To convincingly blush and murmer protestations when declarations head my way.


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North Pole family portrait

Every year the Hubby and I make our own Christmas cards. Why? Because we are big dags who are too disorganised to actually go and buy any. This year, however, we are merely organised dags with a penchant for plasticine. Don't worry - there is much Photoshopping to be done before the final send out.


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A nose so red that even Rudolph is jealous

Greetings from Runnynoseville! Grumbles is still sick (but only 5 dirty nappies yesterday) and I'm still hacking up chunks of lung on a regular basis, so precious little crafting has gone on around here. I'm slogging away on the neck of Stripy (only 66 rows to go... sigh), but I'm pretty sure a progress picture won't melt anybody's ice cream. So, instead, introducing my ruffly scarf. The pattern I came up with myself, and it's knit with Kidsilk Haze on 5.5mm and 3mm needles. I'm not 100% sure of what I think of it, but it's busting my stash, which is never a bad thing.

Now it's off to hack, snort, wheeze and moan. Bring on the weekend (complete with a husband who will tuck me into a doona on the couch and bring endless cups of tea).


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She's a crafty witch, this one

I am hoping that very shortly this tangled mess:

...becomes this:
I've been rereading some of the Harry Potter books, and whilst I was wrestling with picking up the 150 odd stitches, I kept glancing over at the vase in which my needles were kept, wishing that they were wands so that I could just wave one and tada! it would be done. I can almost hear Mr Ollivander now: "Remarkable! 35cm long pale bamboo, tip sharpened slightly more than usual, thickness 4mm with a core of Kidsilk Haze. Not many sold like that, young lady!"

Now you'll have to excuse me - I must dash. I have 20cm of 2x2 rib to do on 2.75mm needles. ARRRGGGHHHH!

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House of the Living Dead

Did I say in the previous post that there would be living going on around here? Foolish optimism! It may almost be summertime, but the living sure hasn't been easy. Not with the Grumbles having a rather nasty case of gastro - so nasty we had to postpone our housewarming party, boohoo - but with me also contracting the dreaded lurgy. So it's been nothing but dirty nappies, coughing, headaches and snuffling chez Jorth. However, it hasn't been all bad. We've consumed with much relish the first mangoes of the season, watched The Remains of the Day on DVD and introduced ourselves to the delights of Hydralyte (orange is the best flavour). Thankfully, however, today signalled what I am hoping is the end of the gastro - only two marks in the dirty nappy count. So we're moving on up from the horrid beginnings that took place on Melbourne Cup day. And since this post is now turning into a sad, sordid tally of dirty nappies, I'll leave you with an eerie pic from the famous race day.

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The grand blog opening!

Am I late? I sure hope not. I couldn't find any shoes to wear. Actually, I do have quite a few shoes, but none that matched this skirt. I did have a pair once, but The Hubby stood on them, and they are, alas, no longer. Oh well. Ahem - welcome to the opening of the Jorth blog! Please, make yourselves comfortable and drop by as often as you can. There's plenty of knitting, sewing, nattering and general, well, living going on here. The main speaker will be myself, Jorth, with guest appearances sporadically done by The Hubby, our beloved daughter Grumbles and strangers whose photo I may snap just because they look to be of interest.

Speaking of the Grumbles, here she is!

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