Pinning pop-in

Just popping in purely to post these images so that I can then upload them onto pinterest, which I love as an organisational tool. Am very happy creating mood boards for every room of the house.

Can't actually act on any of these redecorating/renovation ideas but virtual planning is almost - if not more - fun as budget is irrelevant. More of a big things, unaffordable pleasures post.

Both these images are from Inside Out's 2012 Renovating and Decorating guide, but don't appear on its website, hence my scanning.

For the record, the bedroom image (it's the bed I'm interested in - Jardan's Leila bed) is from Julian and Louise Thompson's apartment in St Kilda (photography Sharyn Cairns). The bedlinen, which I also love, is from the architect's (Steven Whiting) wife's online shop y10store.com.

Bathroom image is an old one that's got another run, as photographer Sharyn Cairns nominated it as coming from one of her all-time favourite houses (it's in Melbourne and used to belong to Mark and Louella Tuckey, who've since moved to Sydney).

Record straight. Images loaded. Off to pinterest.

Time out

While it's the small, simple pleasures in life that make my heart beat a little faster, I have to concentrate on the big picture right now.

As much as I'd love to continue the blog, I'm going to put it on hold for a while. Nothing's wrong, I just can't give it the attention it needs to satisfy me, so I'm walking away for a bit rather than do it half-heartedly.

I'll still be around and popping in to all my favorite blogs. Just won't be posting here.

Hope to be back one day as it's been a real pleasure. x

Easter break

One of the many good things about having a bike with a basket is that when I spot something dumped in the street, I can scoop it up and leave the scene of the find quickly. So this Easter I'll have my hot-cross buns on my lovely new-old wooden painted tray.

School holidays also begin tomorrow and as such I'll be popping in only intermittently over the next couple of weeks.

Tomorrow we're off to a friend's house to bake hot-cross buns, the smell of which will be heavenly. In the lead-up to Easter, though, I've been adding the odd hot-cross bun to The Child's lunchbox as, like me, she's a big fan. What she doesn't know is that the hot-cross buns she's been enjoying are from a company called Ancient Grains and made with wholemeal flour. Unless you knew, you wouldn't pick it. I figure a little fibre before the onslaught of chocolate come Sunday can only be a good thing!

Have a lovely extra-long weekend. x

Vintage bunny illustration via Lee Mathews.

The Happiest Refugee

What a lovely little book this is. It's hardly new, I know, but I've just read it after borrowing it from a friend.

I normally wouldn't be interested in a stand-up comedian's book but thought The Husband might quite like it. I decided to have a look at the first few pages - and that was it. I was hooked.

It's the story of Anh Do and his family's escape from Vietnam when the comedian was just two and the lives they made for themselves in Australia. Simply, it's a 'boat people' story told from the perspective of a 'boat-person'.

The horror of their journey is evident and I felt like I was on that rickety boat with them, breathing the putrid air inside the cabin. Their boat was attacked by pirates - twice - yet Do's father still managed to bring 39 refugees to Australia, losing one life along the way.

It's something of a tragi-comedy, and something I think every young Australian should read so they don't become anaesthetised to what the term boat-people actually represents.

The beauty of this book is that it's never depressing, even when the subject matter is incredibly sad. I may not be a fan of Anh Do's comedy routines but I think he's a gifted storyteller. And who doesn't like a happy ending?

Sitting pretty

I've got rather a lot of work on at the moment, which is keeping me beak down and tail feathers up, so to speak.

It's a rather nice job with lots of words about wool and woolly events that, unfortunately, makes me want to stop working and start playing with the actual stuff.

Writing's a bit like knitting: one word or stitch at a time will result in something whole.

I figure if a couple of doves can sit in the tree outside my desk window for what seems hours on end, I can sit on my chair and keep tapping away.

Or maybe I'm trying to pull the wool over my eyes with that one.

Goodbye daylight savings

It's beginning to feel a lot like autumn around here. At the markets on Saturday, I listened as a grower told gala apple lovers to make the most of them as they're on their way out, with fujis taking their place. I love knowing what coming and going in the apple world as biting into a floury apple will guarantee I inadvertently pull the most unattractive of faces.

Made my first apple tart tartin yesterday with a mix of granny smiths and a variety of heritage green apples, which I can't remember the name of now. I'd show you, but it's already half eaten.

I noticed even the local Woolworths supermarket has erected a big seasonal list of apple-picking seasons, which I suppose is good but I saw people buying apples the other day that even Woolworths admits must have been picked last July. Each to their own.

We're starting to close the doors on cooler evenings, which is rather nice when the house is full of fresh eucalyptus as it is at the moment as it gently scents the air.

Goodbye daylight savings. Until next year.

The Paris Wife

Have just finished reading The Paris Wife by Paula McLain, and found it intriguingly enjoyable after a bumpy start.

It's one of those 'faction' books - books based on a real event, in this case the marriage of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife Hadley Richardson, and then fleshed out to create a story.

The book begins with the two characters meeting in the early 1920s, falling in love and then moving to Paris. Hemingway isn't yet published and the story weaves around his writing, their relationship and people they mix with, such as F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda.

The reason it took me a little longer than expected to warm to the book was because I found the Hadley Richardson of the book, frankly, quite wet. Whether she really was or not, I have no idea, obviously, but her prime reason for existing seemed to be to bolster Hemingway. But I went with it and ended up quite admiring her.

It's the sort of book to read tucked up in bed with a cup of tea and an iPhone, purely to reference Wikipedia when a bit of background is required.

Have a lovely weekend. x