Fancy Nancies

This is my everyday, Knitting Nancy. She and I have been going steady since she was handmade by a friend's dad and given to me in 2003.

Then about two months ago I was kindly given these Fancy Nancies by another friend's sister. At first I had no idea what to do. I thought they all had to be used at the same time. I seriously had no idea how to even begin. It's true I could have googled or asked around some seasoned crafty types, but I never quite got around to it.

Then when my friend Vivienne very generously gave me her red case of knitting goodies, inspiration struck. Ta da!

I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with it. Maybe a snood, maybe a skirt. My knitting group is coming here tonight and I look forward to talking through my ideas with them. I'll let you know what they say.

Hand Me Downs

This time last year, when PJ's grandmother died, I drove from the funeral to the wake in the car with PJ's parents. Next to me on the back passenger seat were some of his grandmother's possessions, including her sewing kit. It revealed much about the kind of woman she was: efficient, competent, frugal.

Not long after, PJ's sister wrote a beautiful blog post about inheriting this sewing kit. Of course the kit should have gone to her, but I must admit to feeling pangs of jealousy, even though she wasn't my grandmother.

There is something about a grandmother's possessions, for me anyway, that acts as a kind of direct line of communication to my female collective unconscious. It doesn't have to be my grandmother's things, I'm not that fussy.

Which is why I was so touched to receive the red case two days ago, a gift from our friends Ian and Vivienne. Inside it, Ian's mother's knitting needles and old patterns and Vivienne's balls of gorgeously soft alpaca wool.

Such a gift doesn't feel like it's merely been given, it feels as though it has been bequeathed – for me to use, enjoy, learn from, then pass on to the next person in line.

Lesbian Woolcraft Show

I went this morning, with some of my knitting group friends, to The Annual Yandoit Lesbian Knitting and Woolcraft Show.

Outside the small hall were some gorgeous alpacas who were there to show off their wool. They were so placid and soft, I thought I might skip the show altogether and just spend the morning patting and cooing.

But when I saw this sign, I knew I had to go inside.

And I'm so pleased I did. I have wanted to knit a cosy for a chair like this, but all in red, for quite a while. Dear Meg Later, I am blogging this image as a reminder for you to do it.

I felt like a bit of a cheat, not being a lesbian and not knowing how to knit, but when I saw this knitting nancy, which is all I know how to do, I felt a lot better about being there.

My favourite craft of the day, and the item that received my Best in Show vote, was the Goodnight Darling banner above the kitchen. You can't really see from this photo, but each letter has been hand-sewn onto a rectangle cut out of a blanket and then pegged onto a string-line.

The tea and cake I bought from under it got my vote too.

Hand Knitted Homecoming

Thank you to our lovely neighbour Maria who came over today with a pair of hand knitted socks for each of us.

PJ and I had an incredibly productive and relaxing week away, and are both very excited by what we found hiding in the recesses of our blank pages, but it's always nice to return to our darling boy, cosy home, chooks and water tanks a-brimming.

Hope you had a great week too.

I am the Door

I took this photo down a side street in Braidwood last weekend.

I am not the door, though last night I was the door whore at The Palais, where a couple of Melbourne bands played, including the fabulous Tinpan Orange. 

When I wasn't charming the patrons, selling tickets or crossing names off the guest list, I journalled, knitted, listened to the music, sipped champagne, felt thankful that smoking is no longer allowed inside music venues, sold CDs and thought romantic thoughts about my man in our cosy home putting the finishing touches on an essay due this week.

Tagged & Texted

Hot diggity damn, I've been tagged.

Normally this isn't my kind of thing, but seeing as though I was tagged by EC over at (Text)ure and (me)aning, I am thrilled. I mean, how could I refuse a request from someone who hand-knits text messages??

The rules:

* Mention the rules on your blog.

* Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself.

* Tag six others

* Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they are tagged.

EC normally blogs text messages she sends and receives on any given day. And so in honour of her, my six unspectacular details are my 6 most recent text messages:

1. G'day Meg, the laundry liquid has come in. Cheers, Fiona Harris, Daylesford Aromatherapy. (FH>M)

2. Directions were perfect!! Thankschyoo! xo (E>M)

3. On my way to Creswick. Much love gorgeous one. (PJ>M)

4. Just saw all your texts. Thank you! At Bee's avoiding the hail. Rainy day and all I want to do is be nude wichoo. (M>PJ)

5. Amazing! Lovely guy. That sort of thing is normal for me. Always happy to help. Ariba! (J>M)

6. Perhaps Brunswick St and Brunswick St books? (PJ>M)

And so, in the spirit of the exercise, I hereby tag:

Hold These Words

The Doily

Huong Ngo

The Book Camel

The Writing Hive

Existence of Ellen

Still Life: Ingredients

There are six of us in my knitting group, and when it's your turn to be the hostess you have to provide tea, coffee and something to eat. Tonight everybody is coming here.

My kitchen bench, 4pm:

My sister K, who is a fantastic baker, laughs at me because I do not own a single cookbook. She thinks it's funny that each time I want to make or bake, I go online then consult my open laptop for measurements and methods, careful not to whisk or grate or sift anything onto it.

She thought it even funnier when her eldest daughter asked if they could make my banana cake for her dad for father's day. She said it was the best cake she's ever eaten. With that kind of credential, I thought I would make it for my knitting group this eve.

The recipe: www.bananacakerecipe.com.au

Art Attack

After being preoccupied with my bum all day yesterday, it felt good to be thinking outside myself today. I volunteered at the local primary school for their annual Art Attack day, where the kids spend the whole day participating in creative activities. And where a few of us lucky parents went to help.

I'm probably not ready to blog about the day just yet, because I'm not sure how to articulate why I had such a great day. It has something to do with a safe, nurturing day after the dog attack yesterday, and also to do with spending a day alongside Z, as he learned and laughed and interacted with his peers. I loved seeing him so happy, especially after his experience at his old school. 

My niece Indigo and Z

It's funny, I'm 34 but I still feel more like a student than a teacher, which is why I was surprised when I was invited into the staff-room at recess and lunchtime. They had catered for the teachers and helping parents, and I was appalled at the poor quality of the food, but inspired by something else: in the middle of all the staff-room tables were half finished knitting projects, laminated instructions and notes inviting people who wouldn't normally take part in such an activity, to please feel free to join in.

Creative Resistance

A few nights ago, to coincide with National Homeless Person's Week, the Melbourne Revolutionary Craft Circle went out armed with bags of finger knitted wool, seeds, painted banners, ribbons, cups, cameras and chocolate, to engage in some creative resistance against the rampant land speculation which is wreaking havoc in the Melbourne suburb of Footscray.

I take my hand-knitted hat off to them and to all the other craftivists making amazing things in the name of social justice.

Keep knitting the good knit!

Brrrm Brrrm

It took us several attempts at listing it on eBay, but we finally sold our Peugeot.

As part of our plan to reduce our cash and carbon expenditures, we decided that despite the inconvenience of being a one car family, having a second car was an indulgence we could no longer justify.

It's true we could plant 20 trees a year, or whatever the number is supposed to be, but to us, it's not about offsetting, but decreasing.

It was dark by the time the couple who saw it on eBay arrived last night. PJ took them for a drive into town so they could look under the bonnet under a street light. I had my knitting group over and we all oohed and ahhed when they told us they needed a bigger car because they were having a baby.

The car had become anathema to us and was beginning to represent the epitome of unnecessary waste, but even more so, what we are envisioning the world will be like when petrol hits $8 a litre and the majority of vehicles are rendered useless.

The couple drove up from Melbourne after work, stayed an hour, then left. I sat and knitted with my posse while PJ filled out forms and exchanged money for keys and papers.

It was such a relief to see the car's taillights head up the hill and out of sight, and to know that the car was going to a good home, brimming with new life to come.

Snap!

The best part of Lyndal Jones' show at ACCA was meeting the barista at the café in the foyer. And not just because she makes a great soy latté.

Behind the coffee machine on a stool, I noticed a spiral of rolled up knitting with two knitting needles poking out of the top. The wool was different shades of red, which is what initially caught my eye. When I asked her what she was making, the barista, Buni, told me she didn't know, though she had several ideas for her very long creation:

You see, I too am a knit wit, though my tool is a Knitting Nancy. And I too am a knitter of wool that is many different shades of red and I too have a very long creation that I have dozens of ideas as to its use.

Initially my sister K was going to knit the red rope into a basket, then we thought maybe a rug, but for the moment the best use for it is to keep my hands busy and warm during these chilly winter months.