Red and Black

I have an idea *.... lets all wear red and black (Canterbury sporting colours) next Tuesday 1 March - a week after the terrible and fatal earthquake, to show our heart-felt support for Christchurch people and to give Cantabrians the message that "we love you, we feel your pain and we are all with you".


Imagine walking down the street and seeing red and black everywhere - New Zealanders showing support and solidarity for fellow New Zealanders.

Imagine being a visitor to NZ and experiencing this country-wide expression of support.

Imagine being a Cantabrian and seeing and feeling this big wave of kiwi support.

Get out your red and black clothes, scarves, hats, bags and shoes next Tuesday 1 March and show you care for Christchurch

Share this with your family, friends, work colleagues and neighbours

Let’s show Christchurch that we care for them and are thinking of them now.


*This is not actually my idea - post is copied from an e-mail sent to me - but you can be sure that I'll be wearing red and black tomorrow.

Lessons learnt today.

 Don't try and take photographs of quilt tops in the breeze.  It's frustrating.

 This lesson was learnt by hubby:  Don't leave three-year-old daughter alone in the car with zinc sunscreen.

 If you go to the Opua Regatta, you WILL buy something.  Even though you say you won't.  But doesn't it suit our rustic house?

I did eventually get a picture of the quilt top.  This is what I did with my 'recession' quilt blocks that I didn't particularly like.  It will get a simple backing and be donated to 'Quilts for Kids' who donate to Women's Refuge and will also be organising quilts for Christchurch.

I haven't much felt like blogging over the past week.  It seemed flippant in the wake of the huge tragedy that was unfolding before us, and still is.  There were many other bloggers who were letting the world know what was going on, so I just pulled my head in and shed tears in the evenings after the children had gone to bed.

Kia Kaha Christchurch.  There are many people out there thinking of you and doing the little things that we can to help.

Negotiation gets you everywhere

Our gender roles have changed dramatically over the last few decades.  Mums used to stay at home and look after the children, cook, clean and 'keep house'.  That's just what they did.  Dads used to earn the living in whatever way they could.  Nowadays there is so much more flexibility within society.  Sometimes this is great, but sometimes it makes a family unstable as everyone has different expectations of their own (and everybody else's) roles. 

This was happening in our own family to an extent.  I expected certain things of my husband, he expected certain things from me.  We both thought the other person could mind read and so resentment was brewing.  But now we are working on negotiating our roles and tasks more and we are back to happy. 

Weekend mornings were a sticking point.  But now they are working wonderfully.  Hubby gets to sleep in for as long as he wants.  I get up when the children wake and feed them and get them occupied with something (and work on keeping them fairly quiet).  In return, Hubby cooks dinner both nights.  Fantastic!  We both got something we wanted out of the deal and both conceded something.

And when my children rolled me out of bed early on Saturday morning, I got something extra out of the deal.  I got to see this serene and spectacular dawn.

I think the pinks and purples and oranges (which the photograph does no justice to) stayed in my mind, because when I sat down to make a block for our upcoming guild block game (more on that another day), this is what appeared from under my sewing machine.

I love the sheer boisterous femininity of it!  My husband would probably choke if I tried to make a whole quilt like it and put it on our bed....but then again, all things are up for negotiation!

The Saga of Windyhill Farm.

In the beginning was a block of land.  Some wide-eyed innocents came along and imagined the space for kids to run around, room for chickens and vege gardens, a place for a shed for the man to tinker in.  They bought it.

They built the shed.  The did some fencing.  They bought a few cows and would visit every weekend to potter around and dream.  Then one day they decided that instead of dreaming about a house, why not live in the shed?

Work began.  A floor went in, walls followed, old wooden windows too. 

A house was born!  (A kinda funny looking, functional-not-beautiful house.)  And then the man realised that now.....he had no shed.  Planning and dreaming began again.  The woman dreamed too, of a studio, a deck, a veranda to shade her when she relaxed in a chair with a glass of wine the children when they played outside.

And so.  The man got his shed, the woman got her veranda.  The house looks more balanced and will be a more enjoyable place to live in.  They celebrated.  But they are not finished.  Now they plan a deck to protect their children's feet from the gravel and mud.  And best of all (in the woman's point of view) they plan to enclose the last bay of the shed and turn it into a quilting studio (although the man persists in calling it a rumpus room).

The woman wants her quilting studio to be roomy, comfortable and gorgeous.  After all, the man-cave is big enough to fit a concrete truck in!

Stay tuned for the next installment.  However, it may be some time away (unless I win Lotto this weekend).

And Little One was pregnant.  She is a very proud and protective Mum of nine new babies.

Garden Harvest

I rummaged around under the jungle that is my garden and dug up enough potatoes for dinner.  I love digging for spuds, revealing hidden treasure.  However, I LOATHE putting my fingers through the half-rotten original seed potato.  Urrrrgh.

Some tomatoes I found today.  These are Latimer Beefsteak.  I have totally neglected them and yet they still give me this bounty!  Last season I didn't plant any because we were late getting the garden started etc etc.  This year I planted them but then didn't tie them up before I left for holiday and came back to sprawling triffids.  So I'm all fired up for next year.  If I can get this sort of crop from total neglect, what can I get with tender loving care?!

And for dinner - lovely, lovely kingfish.  (Can you see Hubby's fat left hand?  He got a paper wasp sting and it didn't agree with him.)

I hope you all had a lovely weekend.  We have been busy building boxing for a concrete retaining wall in the new shed, moving the chicken enclosure, relaxing and trying to stay cool.  Now onwards and upwards to Monday.