Jam on top

Six days to the launch and counting... I've been working on a few interesting recipes for the second printing of the benefit cookbook. Yes, that's right, Homemade: The Handmade Help recipe book will be reprinting. Thanks to all of you who bought copies we're really close to being able to fulfil our goal, which was to have enough copies to provide one for every one of those 2000 families who lost their homes, should they want one. (We've been selling copies to raise the money to print extras, and any money left over from the sale will be donated to the Salvation Army. So when you purchase one, you give twice: you give a cookbook to a family AND money to the Salvos for the work they do all across Australia).

Thanks to the oddnesses of printing and presses and production stuff, if we add a couple of pages to the book, it costs less to print. (And wastes less paper). So, let them eat JAM! I've got a couple of jams and a marmalade to add to the back of the book.

The new copies won't be out for a good six weeks yet, so in the meantime, your copies are jam-free (but jam-packed with great recipes). It's a sticky situation, knowing we need to add something extra to the book, but we think we can spread it on lightly and the result will just be that much sweeter.

Book and bag

While I was away, I did a packet-load of crafting. Here's just one of the things I made which has been in my handbag ever since. It's just a pouch, but useful, very useful! Two kinds of fabric fused to woven interfacing, with a vintage sheet lining. (More of that sheet later!)

We're gearing up for the launch of the cookbook this coming weekend: lists and ingredients, lots of helpers to muster. It's plenty to organise but I'm starting to look forward to it, too. We'll celebrate and start giving the cookbooks away through some of the community groups in the bushfire-affected areas. Should be lots of fun.

Kinda good, kinda bad...

... kinda happy, kinda sad.

Up until my last post, you'd be forgiven for thinking we were still away in North America. There's been a period of silence around here: not much blogging, even less drawing, and no writing at all. Shortly after we came home from our wonderful trip, we were thrown for a loop on life's rollercoaster, and over the course of ten sad days we said goodbye to a grandmother who was very dear to us both.

It's been a couple of weeks, but time contracts and extends. It flexes and coils, so that sometimes you are crawling through each day and other times you find yourself thinking it was only yesterday, I was there, holding her hand. Enjoying the flowers together. Or snorting with glee about the latest crazy fashions and sewing patterns, and just talking 'girl stuff'.

Some families pull together for the mourning process: others don't. We've had a couple of weeks in full riot-gear and the fun never stops. I'm old enough to realise that just one or two individuals can spread toxic poison, that you can't hide from all of the tricky people in your orbit and you need to draw in and look after your own. With the bombs flying, there's been no time for words or grief, or for memories and sad joy that we had a good friendship. And that, my friends, makes even pacifists like me just a little bit angry.

I hope we turned the corner this week. We're looking forward and thinking of good things. We love each other and will protect each other. Some of our family is fantastic and I give thanks for them every day. But I'm tired, and there are no words and the drawings are few and tentative. We need good soil, gentle breezes, sunshine and soft rain to grow again.

Things I like

Sunday morning, up early and baking cakes. There are a few things I like about a quiet Sunday at home.

• An early walk with the dog. We've got the streets to ourselves and we can admire the sunlight sparkling through the trees. Be nosy and stare at things in gardens, mutter to ourselves (should we wish -- the dog's good at this), and generally slouch around the block. 
• Time to sew. Well, when don't I appreciate this? 
• Quiet. Quiet all around. And more quiet.
  

Ironically, I was awoken rudely, early today, by an obnoxious bird sitting in the tree outside the bedroom window.

He/she has been there every morning this week from 5:30 to 6AM.

Squeek-SQUONK, SQUEEK-SQUONK, SQUEAWK-SQUWONK!!

Honestly, I never knew birds could shout so loud. Must be spring.
He's probably yelling:

"Look at me, ladies, I'm a hunka-hunka birdy luuve, and I've got this here tree ALL TO MYSELF. 

Ladies!?

LADIES?!! 

%?$%#!!" 

Etcetera.

Mr. Tacc asked me why I thought it was a he. "Maybe it's a she", he said.

Hmm.  

Who said birdies sat in trees and delicately twittered? Hah. Damn fool, them.

I've got a linen jacket all cut out and awaiting the very important decision about lining. The jacket is heavy linen, dark blue. I'm thinking batik, red and white gingham or some crazy floral glazed cotton I've got somewhere. It's a casual short sleeved jacket. I've never made a jacket before, so wish me luck. If you don't see photos, even progress shots, you know it's all gone badly and I'l be making a quilt with very small linen triangles in it, all in a nice coordinated blue...

Now, for a piece of warm cake, a cup of coffee, and I'm off to give it a go!

Please pass the salt and pepper...

... or could that be, the kitsch?


What delights! Our first stop in Amerrr-ica included a Saturday in Seattle, and while he went off to the Museum of Flight and the Flying Heritage Collection, I went to Pike Place Market.

Now, I admit that I am a spoiled girl, with Melbourne's Queen Victoria Market right on my doorstep, and so while I enjoyed Pike Place Market, it wasn't a life-changing experience (You see, I had that, in the Queen Vic, and I went back to the UK and applied for a visa. That's definitely life-changing.)


So, you can see why I wished that the girls of blogland and the TCB could be here with me when I hit the motherload of all salt and pepper kitsch. An entire shop devoted to crazy character salt and pepper sets.


(I'm sure they're used to women circling their windows and aisles, giggling quietly to themselves.)

But I wasn't sure if they'd want me taking pictures, so there are just a few.

B

Looking and thinking, travelling to some summer

I've been playing out in the wide world, looking at the colours and thinking of pictures and creations. As usual, getting away reminds me of who I am and of all of the images and ideas, colour and creations I want to be part of my life.


Travel opens possibilities. It wipes the veneer of weekly, daily, monthly work and routine out of my head and reminds me that life is short and is here to be lived to the full. Bloom and fade: celebrate and burst with colour.


The things I see make me want to draw all day, paint all evening, dream all night.

I did do a little painting on this trip, and lots and lots of drawing. Constant doodling. I made the commitment not to worry if it was any good; just to do as much drawing as I could. Even though we're back and the wind is wuthering (and we've got the traditional post-air journey sniffles), I'm doodling most days. It feels great.

And this is one of the photos from the trip that I find most wonderfully, richly satisfying.


Doesn't that just make you tingle? They look rich and full but pokey and prickly all at the same time. Can you see how big these barrel cacti are? I purposefully poked my toe in the bottom of the photo so you could see just how bloody enormous they are. I imagine if you sat on them, they'd pop. Or slump. (And poke billions of little cacti-holes in your delicate derriere.)

These photos were all taken one sunny fine day in Grand Rapids, Michigan, as I went around the botanical gardens and sculpture park. Big thanks to my lovely host, Jennifer, for suggesting it -- somehow I never fail to find inspiration in a great garden.


Especially one with vistas like this that remind me of the summers in Canada and big fields of wildflowers.

Now all I need is a big floaty dress and a sunhat. (Too bad they lost my luggage and all I had was my Melbourne winter black. But that's all forgiven and in the past now, right?)

Ahh, holidays. > dream <

Homemade In Epicure

HomemadeInEpicure
Originally uploaded by smallcloughs

I'm on holiday at the moment -- did you miss me?

I'm on the patio, sitting in the sun in Canada, enjoying the summer breezes, the prospect of more barbeques and swimming in the lake.

Meanwhile, at home, the little cookbook we produced for the bushfire benefit has attracted some attention and was in Epicure last week. Yay!

If you don't already know all about it, go to www.handmaderecipebook.com. (I promise you it's delicious, I edited those recipes and some of them looked great...!)

More soon, just wanted to share the (belated) news. If you'e already ordered a copy of the book, apparently they have arrived and will be shipping very soon if not already. Double yay!

xx
B