Handsome Guys

How about these guys!!
Photos from a Christmas Island adventure walk about a month ago. We didn't realise it was a four km round trip so J did well to make it with only a leeeetle bit of whinging.

I have added more pics to my Flickr site, if interested.

Check out the luthier's blog. Not much on yet but plenty more to come.

Who'd'a'thunk?

Well, who'd'athunk that seepage marketing would pay off. The luthier sold his first cello last night. He proceeded to do the luthier dance of joy and cry " Suffer in your jocks, doubters!". A beautiful and touching moment.

I am very proud of the luthier. And, let's face it, it's all sweet for me. I get to pay a few bills and renew my hope for my secret ambition to be one day fulfilled.

So seep on, my bearded luthier, seep on.

Creating luthier's blogspot tonight. He is coming to join is in blogland.

Dreams Confessed

My truest, deepest, secretest dream (apart from my secret ambition for the luthier to become so successful that I can be kept in the lap of luxuriousness, or, of course, my other deep secret dream of spending a year living in Italy with the luthier and sons, growing fatter on pizza and gelati, and soaking up the beloved Italian art language and culture

... hmmmm, where was I , oh yes .... my dream.

It is to become a published author of children's stories.
Not long and tricky, clever tales of adventure, and puberty and being socially responsible, but silly, rhymey, poemy stories in which I can take outrageous liberties with words in an attempt at 'using 'umour'. I fancy to follow in the footsteps of Roald Dahl, Edward Lear and Spike Milligan and try to create some kind of wonderful nonsense that doesn't aim to preach or teach, but purely to amuse. (An audacious ambition indeed, considering my utter inexperience and lack of skill.)

Despite my literary shortcomings and that I have not the first idea about how to go about getting published, I am determined to try.

I can't sew neatly, I can't knit without dropping stitches, I certainly can't draw with any beauty or finesse, but I may yet add to this heavenly wave of women in the world creating beautiful things for children with a few well-placed words. Wish me luck.

For the love of Lauren and Lola

I cannot tell you how much I am digging the genius of Lauren Child and her brilliantly beautiful Charlie and Lola. I have just discovered the official Lauren Child web site and had to share it with my exclusive reading public.

I like it even better than the Charlie and Lola site, honestly and promisedly I do.

A Room of Mum's Own

I am trying to get some work done at home ... hmmmmm....

J is running around half-nude post-shower, jumping out from behind things and yelling out "WOMBAAAT!" at the bubba. The bubba is banging around amidst the toys, mostly ignoring J but letting out the occasional cry of annoyance. The luthier sits on the couch watching some "current affairs" show with its constant range of generic stories - the unemployed youth, the people with the house chock full of rubbish, or the shameless promotion of some product - tonight its a pillow promotion under the guise of a snoring/sleeping story. Add to the cacophany the whirrings and sloshings of the dishwasher, washing machine and heat pump.

No wonder I can't get much work done.

I've just read Virginia Woolf's A Room of one's own for book group. In it, she talks about women not being able to write as they never had the freedom of a room of their own.
I know exactly what she means.

Quotes from the Smiths

Luthier to me, whilst I sat knitting on the couch, complaining about my lack of craft time:
"Don't worry Mum. There's plenty of time for craft when you're dead."
J, out of nowhere, to me also knitting on the couch:"So Mum, what happens when Dad goes off with someone else? Then you'll have to find someone else too."
J, to the Luthier later that evening,
"Dad, what happens when you find someone else?"
The luthier responds : "I'm not going off with someone else."J replies " Yeeees, Dad, you might find someone pretty."
Teaching the J to write and explaining punctuation marks,
"But Mum, what are suppostraphes for?" I think he meant apostraphes.
J on seeing my hairy winter- neglected legs: "Mum , are you turning into Dad?"
Sachababy on seeing the Luthier in his shop "Oh, Dad!"

Me and the Smithy boys. (I roll my eyes and smile ...)