Long time coming

There's no place like home, which is why I'm back.

Strangely, it was possibly one of the smallest, simplest pleasures on earth that's drawn me back: white pegs. Yep, that's right. Pegs.

I like clothes. I particularly like my clothes. I spend probably more than I can afford but I have a thing about quality over quantity. I even like laundering my clothes - and hanging them to dry. What I don't like is multi-coloured bits of plastic digging into my lovely things and ruining the look for me. To paraphrase a past editor of Vogue Living, if I see things in a setting I don't like I delete them from my visual field. Which is exactly what I've been doing with pegs for years (I'm a simple soul).

Sure, I could have bought packets of pegs and discarded all the coloured ones and built a collection of white - but too wasteful. Tried wooden pegs, but no good if caught unawares in the rain.

So when I found these inoffensive little Japanese beauties in Dollar King at Leichhardt this morning, I bought packets of them. They're made by Daiso, which I learned after a quick google, is Japan's top $2 shop - and we have four of them right here in Sydney.

I don't know why it's taken so long for someone to think of white pegs. I've been looking for (affordable) ones for years. Trust the Japanese to keep it simple.

George Street here I come.

Have a lovely weekend.

Paperwork

I'm a pretty organised person but I tend to be a bit lax with paperwork. To the point where I started getting reminder notices for unpaid bills and penalties for late payment, which was enough to spur me into getting this small but irritating part of my life under control.

It was easy, really. Set aside a day to get to the bottom of the basket I threw everything into and decided to deal with paperwork every Monday. Now when mail hits the letterbox, I open it, throw it in the basket and deal with it on Mondays.

Come Monday, I'll pay what needs to be paid and file what needs to be filed, and then put anything with a due date past the next Monday onto a clipboard. If it's an email bill, I'll put a note to myself on the clipboard. Pretty rare now that I have to spend more than half-an-hour on paperwork - usually about 10 minutes.

My system has been running like clockwork for six weeks now and I feel a bit smug that I've formed a good habit.

If only regular exercise was that easy...

Wrapped up

Riding down the back lane on my bike I spied a pile of stuff a neighbour had put out for a council pickup. Of course, I slammed on the brakes and had a good look. Nothing worth getting off the bike for, apart from some pristine wire coathangers. Now I love wire coathangers - but only when wrapped in fabric - as they are perfect for sleeveless dresses and tops.

They take up no room in the wardrobe and clothes cling to them.

Pulled out my first ever ebay buy - the Sanderson fabric on the bottom - that I paid a silly price for, purely because I wasn't going to be outbid. The fabric duly arrived and was put in a cupboard. It's lovely, but too prettily flowery for my soft furnishings taste.

Not too pretty for wire coathangers, though. So I started cutting and covered one.

Only 9 more to go...

Instructions how to make these here.

Laundry picnic

I picked up my first vintage picnic basket, which I use as a sewing basket, many years ago. The second, the small one on top, came into the house about five years ago to give a home to the tapestry stuff I have, never use, but don't want to part with.

At Rick Rack Retro in Summer Hill on Saturday, I bought my third for $15. I had a specific purpose in mind for this one as there's a space quite high on a laundry shelf that it tucks perfectly into. As it has a lid, I can pull it down without the threat of WD 40, the magnetic window cleaning thingy and its sponges I bought at a shopping centre demonstration that I can't live without, spare oven knobs that I keep for no known reason and suede shoe protector, falling on top of my head. In other words, those random things that need a home somewhere out of sight.

I actually brought home a smaller version for the same price but realised when I got back that the bigger one would indeed fit so The Husband kindly went back to Summer Hill to swap it.

So if you're looking for a similar smaller version of the bottom basket, you know where to find it.

Mind like a sieve

Another market find I love. Another market find I'm not sure what to do with. I've experimented or thought about using this big old colander as a fruit bowl, peg basket, under sink clutter container, wool depository, garden caddy, and herb pot.

Never actually crossed my mind to use it as a colander, funnily enough, and so it continues being shunted around the house until I can decide what to do with it.

Suggestions very welcome.

Twisted tale

During dinner with friends recently, I was complaining about how I couldn't find a simple hose tidy that wasn't a twee reproduction number in heritage colours, plastic or just plain ugly.

I was invited to take a look at their hose tidy as, if I liked it, they had a spare one as they had been given two by female friend's parents yet were only going to use one. Friend's husband, The Cameraman Who's Always Right, while a generous man in every other way, can be a teeny bit of a hoarder and tried to pretend it was still in storage (they'd been renovating). No it's not, was his wife's reply that came accompanied with an eye roll.

I managed to get it into the car and drilled it into the wall early next morning before he could invent some dubious reason for its return, such as using it to keep his camera cords neat.

Came from a market in Canberra (don't know which one, unfortunately) and I love it.

Scrubber

My collection of natural cleaning brushes is growing. At The Bay Tree last week, I added two types of brushes that I haven't come across before (if you don't count plastic components - if you do, of course, they're everywhere): a scrubbing brush and a thin bottle brush.

Best of all, at Orange Grove markets on Saturday the stall that sells my beloved natural dishmops was back - but without the dishmops as she'd sold out. This stall is a bit like Brigadoon - you never know when the mists will part and reveal her wares to the human eye. Luckily, though, she takes orders.

Next time I see her I'll also pick up one of the Tumut Broom Factory's millet brooms she carries. I didn't have enough money on me on Saturday - they're $45 - as fruit, veg and a bunch of eucalyptus was my priority.

Now I have to use my scrubbing brush rather than just admire it.

Fresh start

At the orthodontist the other day with The Child I pulled out my diary to make the next round of appointments. (I'm old-school when it comes to diaries, I like one I can write in and shove papers into.) Turns out the second appointment needed to be mid-January, so I needed a new diary pronto.

Had been using Frankie magazine's cloth-covered diary this year but didn't fancy the baby-poo brown cover of the 2012 version. Luckily, the orthodonist is just a hop, skip and jump away from Berkelouw Books in Leichhardt so we sauntered over to check out all the lovely offerings we knew they'd have. We both loved this one because of the beautiful colour combinations.

Also liked the idea of a seasonal fruit-and-veg guide literally at my fingertips.

I've covered my own with vintage fabrics in the past, but the internal blandless leaves me a bit cold. Unlike this one.

Another bonus is that the week-to-an-opening view (the only one I use) gives equal space to Saturdays and Sundays as the rest of the week. Highly unusual, I've found. Frankie was a surprise offender here, too, as it left little space for its readers to pencil in all the indie-market openings they're no doubt keen to get to.

Life doesn't stop on Friday afternoon, does it? Or do diary designers really think the people who buy these type of diaries are using them to jot down all their high-level corporate meetings or neuro-surgery schedule?

The Foodies' Diary, $29.95.

Coffee break

Today I'm putting to good use the old tin I picked up last weekend as it's time to tidy up the home office in preparation for the school holidays.

While I have quite a lot of freelance work due, I've organised it so I can take the next two weeks off.

We've got time on our hands, the weather is stunning and there's a camping trip in the wind.

Work is the last thing I want to think about right now, which is why I love boxes. Out of sight, out of mind.

Have a lovely weekend.

Dress circle

The seasonal changeover continues here.

As there's not enough room in our bedroom wardrobe for all our clothes, the out-of-season stuff is kept in a wardrobe in another room. Out go the heavier things and in come the lighter dresses and skirts.

Have a lovely, sunny day.

Pillow talk

It's time for the changing of the seasonal guard, so to speak. The duvets have been washed and/or drycleaned and aired and replaced with cotton quilts and blankets perfect for spring nights. What I'm also hoping is perfect for spring nights is this pale warm-grey pure-linen bed linen I bought at the weekend from Miss Molly, who had a one-off stall at Rozelle Markets to see how the product would be received. By early afternoon Saturday, I'd been the only buyer so they won't be coming back but they are online, if you're interested.

The lack of sales didn't have anything to do with the product, I don't think, but Rozelle Markets is all about vintage so the environment wasn't quite right.

I've washed the sheets and pillowcases and like the softly crumpled look that comes naturally with line drying and will try it on the bed this weekend. I'm assured the fibres will soften with age, as linen inherently does.

Any bedding that needs drycleaning but is small enough to fit in the dryer, such as feather pillows, I'll clean with this product and leave in the sun for an extra dose of natural bleach. For our large dry-clean only wool duvet I use a local drycleaner that offers a 'Green Earth' drycleaning method that is vastly preferable to the conventional process which uses the rather hideous chemical and suspected carcinogen known as 'perc'. No thanks.

Lastly, the bedside rug has been removed, cleaned and stored.

We're ready for summer.

Washed up

Sometimes I'm quick on the uptake. Sometimes not.

The husband and I share the cooking in our house. I'm on Monday through to Thursday and he takes over on Friday night. As we both enjoy cooking, we like this arrangement.

What we don't share is the cleaning. He works full-time, while I work part-time from home and don't mind housework (odd, I know). What I've just woken up to is that I've got the timing all wrong. For years.

I'd clean the kitchen on Fridays so it was all sparkly for the weekend. Lent an end-of-the-week celebratory feel to the house. Downside is The Husband is not the neatest of cooks so I'd get the kitchen back on Monday morning looking like it'd been used as a small abattoir over the weekend.

Now I clean the kitchen early in the week. Most times. Being a creature of habit I forgot again this week.

I'm learning.

Size does matter

Today, I was intending to show you my Japanese dress in all its glory. However, turns out there is a bit too much glory. So much so, that if I wore it to the farmers' market on Saturday I could easily slip a couple of sacks of potatoes up my dress and the Southern Highlands potato growers would be none the wiser. Nor would I risk walking past a circus in it as an elephant may mistake it for the big-top tent and try and take shelter. It's that big.

All is not lost, though. I'll make some adjustments and present my progress soon - even if it doesn't fit. I'll take the lessons I've learned from putting together my Japanese sack and put them towards version two in a Liberty floral.

Which leads me to flowers of a different type. I've written about my weakness for ironing with rose water before, and I've now discovered another brand with a beautiful bottle ($11.95 from The Essential Ingredient) that I'll use as a single-stem vase long after the bottle is empty.

Trouble is the squirty thing doesn't fit the new bottle so I'll have to decant new rose water into old rose water bottle.

Who ever said size doesn't matter...

If you're reading this...
Angelina, yesterday's tea towel is cotton not hemp. Haven't come across any hemp tea towels but I dabbled in some pillowcases once and tried to convince myself for a whole year that I liked them before guiltily popping them into the charity bin. Wish I'd thought to turn the backs of them into tea towels. Live and learn.

Silver lining

As I was making breakfast this morning, I could see my glass container of silver cutlery was looking shabby rather than shiny. So I mixed up my foolsafe cleaning solution.

Out comes my non-metal heatproof dish (I use a small ceramic lasagne dish), which I line with alumunium foil. Three tablespoons of washing soda are scattered on top before I pour in enough boiling water that will cover a layer of cutlery.

Before bath

Into the bath goes the tarnished cutlery, which I leave for a couple of minutes before using tongs to remove and then drop into a bowl of cold water to rinse. Finally, I use a clean teatowel to wipe away any residue.

Clean cutlery goes back into glass jar and sparkles in the sun again just like it should.

Example of a not-quite-half-dipped cup

If you're going to try this, be sure not to overcrowd the container as the cleaning solution won't work as well. Pieces must also be in contact with the foil. I do my cutlery in a few batches, changing the solution, including the foil, with each lot.

Works just as well with silver jewellery.

Hacked off

I made a bold decision. I'd bought two polo/roll-neck cashmere jumpers a couple of years ago but didn't wear them as much as I would have liked. They felt luxuriously soft, fitted beautifully and I liked the colours as much as they day I bought them. Trouble was, they irritated my neck.

I realised I'd stopped wearing them completely, precisely because I couldn't pretend they were comfortable anymore. What to do? Put them in the charity bin or hack the necks off and possibly, even probably, completely ruin them. Out came the scissors.

I've now worn both these jumpers twice and, to my great surprise, the ribs haven't run at all. I've given the necklines a tentative rub to see how much they'd take before they begin to unravel. So far, nothing. Best of all, unless you knew you wouldn't think either of them had been attacked with scissors.

I'm feeling happy that my wardrobe options have suddenly expanded without spending a cent. Admittedly, the jumpers haven't been put through the wash test yet but I'm feeling confident.

NB: While I mostly love the solitude of working from home, it can, on occasion be a bit lonely. Yesterday, thanks to your lovely messages, wasn't one of those days. And Stephie, if you're reading this, a really big thank you for the Ripley imagery. Much more me than Sarah Palin. x

Stamp of approval

I love stationery, and I know I'm not alone. Latest addition is this stamp and grey ink pad, $12.95, from Kikki-K yesterday.

Will use it to make notes on documents, because while bill-paying isn't fun I figure it doesn't have to be ugly.

Other ways I'll use it include as school book labels and inside books in the same way as a This-book-belongs-to sticker.

Tea for one

I love the idea of herbal tea but, to be honest, the taste of it never seemed to live up to the promise. Even so, every few months I'd pick up another brand or mix in the hope that this was the one. No luck, as each still had some sort of bitter aftertaste reminiscent of sucking on a mossy rock I just didn't like.

Recently, though, my eye was caught by the almost Florence-Broadhurst style packaging of Pukka tea, which I spotted at a local health-food shop. Thinking I'd probably wasted $7.95 on a brand of British tea, I brewed a cup of chamomile and vanilla once back home. I loved it. So much so, that I've tried two other flavours and have been equally delighted.

I'd prefer to be enamoured with an Australian brand, really I would, but with the rain absolutely beating down all of last night and still now, if someone tried to remove the cup of three-ginger (uplifting and warming) from my hands right at this moment I might have a toddler-style tanty.

I'd need a further cup of (delicately sweet and soothing) chamomile and vanilla to calm me down.

Pegged

Someone left the pegs out in the rain, Donna Summer-like, and the wooden ones couldn't take it so I needed to top the peg bag up. Should be easy, I thought. Will grab something not-too-offensive from the supermarket next time I'm there.

Silly me. When did pegs become available in shocking pink? Elsa Schiaparelli would turn in her grave. Pink on its own would have been do-able but the manufacturers seemingly thought that too subtle and chucked in (or up) fluoro blue, council-vest yellow, neon orange and an uncharacteristic murky green too. Wearing sunglasses every time I hung out the washing didn't appeal.

Visits to various shops and hardware stores turned up nothing better.

I'm fussy about anything laundry related, I admit, so I had no option but to ignore the whole situation. So, for two months, there's been a peg shortage in this house. Problem resolved as of yesterday.

Now, green and gold isn't a colour combination I normally go for, unless the Olympic Games are on, but these pegs had something to offer the others didn't: they're made from recycled plastic and each individual peg is also recyclable and clearly marked as such. So, home they came.

Eco Force pegs, $3.99 for a pack of 24, from Coles. Even the plastic packet they come in is recyclable.

Brush with fame

"Desire is the root of all unhappiness," recited The Child as I reached for my purse to buy a magazine and a beautifully crafted wooden bottle brush. Why she came home quoting Buddha after attending a chocolate master class yesterday still hasn't been explained but in an attempt to be at one with the world I ditched the magazine and just bought the brush. At least I got a smile with the eye roll.

Now I'm no Margaret Olley in the still-life department but I do like the way the little jug of pencils beside my computer has been turning into a vision of domestic utilitarian loveliness of late. (Clearly, if the last sentence makes sense I'm not being arty enough.)

So my wooden bottle brush is nestling next to my dish mop, beetroot slice, paint stick and paint-tin lid remover. The only thing missing is a pomegranate.

Like a surgeon

I love this old shopper, which hangs in the hallway. In summer, it contains sunblock and lipbalm and is grabbed on the way out to the beach. In winter, it's empty and becomes the bag of choice for trips to the corner shop, library and deli.

One of the handles had been coming loose for ages, which I conveniently ignored. But as that's no way to treat a (bag) lady, I lined up some craft glue, jute string and a tapestry needle to patch her up. Pretending I was starring in an episode of Grey's Anatomy, I asked The Child to scrub in and pass me the crucial implements - needle, stat! However, my upturned palm remained empty and I realised I was alone in the field. Never mind, I stitched the limb back on and declared the procedure a success.

To see what the genuinely creative are up to today head here.