Grinding the wheels into motion

The only bad thing about a hiatus is the fact that it’s so darn tricky to get moving again. Both Kim and I have had projects half done or attempted for the last two weeks; for me, the call of the gorgeousness of the day means more time in the garden, or with my kids for long afternoon plays at the park; I’ve had tea parties, pillow fights, made cubby houses out of sheets, and played with cars and trucks in mud; we’ve been camping, watched a sunrise (above), roasted marshmallows on an open fire, swum in the cold sea, and watched movies with hot buttered popcorn. And I’ve regularly abandoned all sewing in favour of play with my little ones.

So bad. But a whole lot of fun, too.

But, as we start to look into spring and summer markets, the need to be a grown-up again and to search out my currently hibernating motivation increases; and I think the best way to get fired up about the busiest time of the year is to experiment with new ideas, and to start booking in to the loveliest markets in Brisbane (nothing like a deadline to get things moving along, huh?)!

How do you find motivation? What inspires you to get going again?

Nat

The small dress

There was a time, perhaps one or two generations ago, that making your own clothes, or clothes for your children, was the thing to do. Perhaps done out of necessity or because of increasingly tight budgets, shorts were cut, dresses were stitched, frills were added, and family photos showing off small smiling children with brand new homemade clothes were taken. You may have had the same family photo – I know we did (against a fake backdrop of an autumn forest in all its yellow, gold and red glory, me in a beautiful handmade dress, beribboned and grinning into the camera).

I remember my mama sewing at night to make us clothes. She used small, finger like lengths of dressmakers’ chalk that was cold to the touch, and held pins between her lips as she folded and tacked and marked and fastened the long lengths of fabric. The dresses she made Kim and I almost always matched; and I remember how the fabric felt when we tried on our almost-done dress for the first time – slightly stiff from not being washed, but oh-so-lovely to spin around in.

Last week, my mama gave me two little dresses that I used to wear as a girl. They had the customary frills and bows and lace and ruffles, are impossibly cute and very sweetly vintage in appearance. I remember her making them; and I remember the way that the lace hem tickled my legs as I walked. And goodness, didn’t it just light a fire! I had Lyra up on a stool the next morning, trying on these little pieces of tangible memory, and measuring out just how I would have to adjust the pattern of the dresses in order to make new ones. I love the idea of my Lyra-Lou having a similar childhood memory, perhaps when she’s grown and gone with babes of her own – of her mama at the sewing machine, pattern pieces and long lengths of material fastened together with multicoloured berry pins, and the feel of a new, made-just-for-me dress.

Do you remember your mother (or father, aunt or grandmother) making clothes for you?

Nat

Ps. My apologies for the impersonal images of late; my camera has gone missing. I know it’s somewhere in the house, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it has been spied as treasure and hidden away by one of the kids…

Image from here.

Learning how to cook

Picture from here.

I admit it: there have been times in the past where I have sneakily passed off a fake curry as my own. You know, the empty-the-bottle-and-stir-it-in kind, that doesn’t involve any roasting or measuring or waiting and waiting. Look, if they didn’t ask, I didn’t say; and all that mattered is that we were eating delicious things, right?

In the last year, the need to be taught properly has taken up residence in my heart; and so over the summer, I bought a recipe book from renowned Asian cook, Charmaine Solomon, with the resolve that I was actually going to learn how to make a curry the right way, and not cheat my way through Indian cookery forever. My Mum actually owned an earlier edition when she was my age, and I remember her using it in much the same way. Her copy is filled with little annotations and small changes to the recipes to suit her tastes, scraps of paper with hurried recipes and abbreviated measurements, and pages stained with curry splatters or yellowed with turmeric. It was well used, and well loved.

After the necessary gathering of spices and some basic implements, my adventures in real Indian cookery began; and so far, it’s been a delicious resolution.

This is what I have learnt:

1. The smell of onions, garlic and ginger slowly turning golden in a pot on the stove is a great memory starter; every curry I’ve begun in the last few weeks has reminded me so much of my grandmother Renee, who always wore an apron, made her curries in tall metal pots, stirred with long handled wooden spoons, and hummed made-up tunes as she mixed and added and tasted and waited. My spice cupboard smells like her kitchen too, which is comforting and bittersweet and delightful, all at once.
2. It’s fun using new ingredients, like the little knubs of fenugreek seeds, silky saffron strands, aromatic cardamom pods, or tiny mustard seeds, which pop and release their flavour in hot oil. There are some ingredients in Charmaine’s book that I’ve never heard of, and I’m so looking forward to experimenting with them.
3. A kitchen garden is a wonderful thing, especially when it's put to good use. Our coriander is cut every couple of days in big fragrant bunches, and mint has been added to spice basics and whizzed up into fragrant pastes. We're patiently waiting on our tomatoes and cucumber to be big enough to use; and the chillies that we grew last season are finally being thawed and chopped or ground, and added in for necessary heat.
4. The kids have surprised me with their curry tolerance. Just last week, Lyra polished off a bowl of Alu Gosht Kari, a meat and potato curry that I’d added a good chopping of chilli too. She mopped up the gorgeous thick gravy with her chapati like she’d been doing it all her life, and asked for a second bowl once it was (almost) licked clean. Which is awesome for two-and-a-half, don’t you think?

How about you? Have you ever wanted to (or learnt) how to cook in a more traditional way – perhaps like your parents or grandparents did?

Nat

{Etsy Love: Nan Lawson}

So, I discovered the quirky Nan Lawson a few weeks ago, and I’ve been visiting and revisiting her store and blog and making mental wish lists of all the prints I’d love to be framing and hanging on my walls. I like that she’s a self-confessed illustrator nerd; and I love the simplistic and sweet nature of her work. She does custom portraits too. I wonder how we’d look?

Secretly In Love

Custom Couple Portrait

Behind the Lens



Happy Monday!

Nat

It's in the mail...

I’ve got this new idea floating around at the moment involving letters and postcards. Both of my little ones have godparents with nomadic sensibilities off travelling the world - and it’s such a treat to receive mail from them. And my two are writing back, telling them of all the things we’re doing, and drawing wonderful pictures of our much loved friends exploring the world. There have been more questions than I was prepared for, which, in hindsight, is expected when the world opens up before very young eyes for the first time; questions of language and food and money and geography, of time and distance and travel, and of how far away things really are.

The letter wallet idea was all but an inkling when the travelling began; and because my two embraced letters and postcards and the waiting and sending so enthusiastically, I thought that other little ones might just do the same too.

This is my prototype:

The plan is to make each little pouch with blank postcards, ready for individual decoration, brown paper envelopes, stamps and brightly coloured pencils. They’re small enough to be slipped into a bag, and easy enough to use so that little ones can do their letter writing all on their own.

It’s so nice working on something brand new – and even nicer knowing that very soon, lots of other little ones will be writing and sending their own letters to friends and family. It’s the very best kind of mail to receive, isn’t it?

Nat 

Ps. They’ll be in our Etsy store soon!

Tea Time Treats

A tart for tea on a china plate,

toy friends at the table, laying in wait

for the tea pot to pour, and the sugar to sweeten,

the cakes to be shared - and for some to be eaten.

Berries in blue, and strawberries red;

chocolate and cherries, harmoniously wed

with caramel, cream, fruit and spice,

making our tea party extra nice…

New Tea Party Tarts in store now!

Nat

The beginnings of winter at the Cottage

For a whole season, we let the weeds take over.

Then there was a frenzy of digging and composting, and the turning in of stinky things; more seeds bought and planted in homemade origami seed pots; extra, more temperamental seedlings sought and planted; and for a whole week, the sweet smell of sugar cane mulch made the garden a delight to walk and play in.

We’ve had rain and sun and growth, and are now on the cusp of an early harvest. And it’s my absolute favourite part of planting an edible garden – the time where it’s at an almost - when the idea of picking snow peas or ruby-red cherry tomatoes or crisp sweet lettuce leaves becomes a delightful daily task.

Just in the last week, our chickens have realised that it’s a variable gold mine in the front garden, and have been squeezing through fence palings to snack on the tender spinach leaves, and to scratch away in the wormy soil. And Ella, our mastiff, often too arthritic to get up and chase them, has taken to watching and growling from the comfort of her heavily bedded kennel. It’s an unpredictable situation; but because it takes Ella a couple of minutes to actually get up (poor dog), the chickens have a head start in escaping; and it gives me the opportunity to play Pied Piper, leading them out onto the footpath and down the road to the chicken run gate, luring with overripe melon rinds or (if desperate) grapes – their absolute favourite - in the scrap bowl.

I love this time of year; it makes me want to knit and read, doze in front of a roaring  fire, and drink hot chocolate with marshmallows, or steaming cups of tea.

And bake - which I guess isn’t unusual.

Why, just yesterday, because it was raining and cold and a little miserable, I made a big batch of fluffy golden scones (with lashings of double cream and strawberry jam, of course); pumpkin bread, with a whole heap of sharp parmesan and chives from the garden added in for good measure; and a mixed spice and pear cake (which was supposed to be drenched in lovely warm butterscotch sauce; but after three-and-a-bit hours fussing in the kitchen, I was entirely cooked out. Ice-cream instead). The whole house was delicious smelling and warm all afternoon, and it was the perfect way to end a cold weekend.

How have you been?

Nat

Ps. The loveliest thing: our apple and cherry Tea Party Tart was part of an apple feature in the gorgeous June edition of Peppermint magazine; and our dashing Heroic Henry slipped into the pages of the June edition of Shopping 4 Baby magazine; and our gorgeous Helpful Harriet graced the online pages of Peppermint to advertise a twinking twilight market for BrisStyle! It’s the best and loveliest reward for months of planning and testing and making and selling.