Bits and Pieces

Weaving in and out of all of that kid crazy, a lot has been going on here. Perhaps that's part of the problem - trying to do too much with too little. I'm not a perfectionist. I don't strive to have everything just so and I've always been able to live with good enough. But the big thing hovering over all of my thinking and doing in the years since I had babies is the great ticking clock. I wish I'd known this, or felt this, back when I was single and fancy-free, with ludicrous amounts of spare hours on my hands. But only now, with time at such a premium, am I aware of how quickly it goes, how little there is left, how much there is to be done, and how foolish it would be to waste it.

So I've been pushing towards finding work doing what I love, rather than spending all of those precious hours earning money but feeling empty. And there's a lot of exciting stuff slowly coming into focus. My ever-so-softly announced Etsy shop selling handknits is getting closer. There are a few bits and pieces to sort out, and the plan is to launch it as soon as I return from our holiday in early November. Watch this space.

And on the food front, I recently contributed a handful of my recipes and photos to Kidspot Kitchen, with the happy result that I've been asked to do it on a regular basis. Great, huh?

To celebrate, here's one of them - a reworking of the cakes I baked during my Very Bloggy Morning Tea back in May. These little pear and raspberry cakes look and feel like spring, even though pears are decidedly an autumn fruit. The Kidspot recipe used tinned pears, but I like to poach mine, peeled, cored and quartered, in a light sugar syrup (4 cups water to 1 cup sugar) with some sliced lemons and a scraped vanilla bean. The vanilla flavour infuses the whole cake and it's so good. Of course, you could always substitute with tinned pears and a teaspoon of vanilla essence, and I reckon, with summer approaching, any type of berry or stone fruit would be lovely too.

Little Pear and Raspberry Cakes

160 g unsalted butter
1 cup natural yoghurt
2 eggs
1 1/3 cups plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup caster sugar
1 cup poached pears, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup raspberries, frozen or fresh

Preheat oven to 190 degrees C. Line a 12-hole muffin pan with paper cases. 

Melt butter and allow to cool. Whisk in yoghurt and eggs. Place flour, baking powder and sugar in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Pour in the butter mixture and whisk until smooth. Stir through pears.  

Spoon mixture into lined muffin pan, and dot each one with a few raspberries, pushing them into the batter. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until lightly brown and cooked through.

If you've made it this far, be sure to check back tomorrow. I'm giving away a beautiful knitting book. And everyone needs knitting books.

Abundant

"I have abundant patience and love for my children. I have abundant patience and love for my children."

I've been repeating the affirmation to myself as often as possible, as often as I think to, over the past couple of weeks. Sometimes it's with a gentle half-smile on my face as I watch them over the top of my knitting playing delightfully with each other. Usually, however, it's in a kind of high-pitched, manic imaginary voice, desperate and breathless, as they fight or scream or push the endless buttons. I HAVE ABUNDANT PATIENCE AND LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN. I DO I DO I DO.

But I don't. Becoming a parent has shown me the depths of my impatience. I know all the right things to do on an intellectual level, but in practice, in the heat of the moment, I've got nothing. If you don't count my screams. At the end of a run-of-the-mill tussle over a toy or a dress or a bike, they move on unscathed, forgetting the moment, but I'm left panting, a worn-out heap in the corner. I've never been good at conflict.

And what of the love business? I love my kids, yes, adore their tiny pink socks off at times, miss them heartily in the rare moments I'm away, go to sleep at night remembering all the funny things they said that day, whilst automatically, quite cleverly I think, erasing all memories of the horror. But nonetheless I had to add 'love' to the affirmation because while it might be a given in theory, in practice it is far more fleeting. It can leave the room in an instant, then waft back in, only to vanish again a moment later. I might love them because I just do (because we do, we just do), but I don't love everything about them and I don't always love being with them. I don't love doing playdough. I don't love reading the 305th book of the day.

I don't know how to reconcile all of the madness with all of the mush.  I don't know how to make sense of 'besotted' and 'crazy-angry' when they're lined up together on the shelf.

I do know that my kids are being kids. They're doing what comes naturally. And the thing that needs to change in this high-stress whirlwind isn't them.

Thus, I have abundant patience and love for my children.

Sunday Lovelies

 

It's the last day of school holidays, the first of daylight saving. Summer's a-comin', and we've spent so much time this week outdoors. A busy week it's been, full of friends new and old, and the discovery of new favourite places.

1) To the creek (part 1)

2) A posy picked from our garden. Our garden!

3) Digging for worms.

4) A visit from a favourite.

5) Home-baked bread.

6) To the creek (part 2)

7) Collecting flowers.

Here's to a lovely week filled with late-sleeping babies, now that dawn has shifted forward an hour!

this moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

Via Soulemama.

Series

I listened to an interview with Ian Rankin the other day. I realised I'd never read one of his novels, nor ever watched 'Rebus' on the ABC, though it seems to be on constantly. Apparently there are 18 books in the collection already. Something about working through a series appeals to me at the moment. I've read very little crime fiction in my time, apart from the Peter Corris books that line the GM's shelves. But I love Edinburgh, and reading about Edinburgh, and when the Ian Rankin book I picked up at an op shop last week happened to be the first in the series, I took it as a sign. A-murdering and abducting we shall go.

Back in the real world, there's a series of new babies - one already here and a couple waiting in the wings. Highly inconvenient, these warm-weather newborns. It makes things a little tricky for us knitters. I couldn't bundle them up in one of the gazillion hats I've been churning out lately, so I've turned my attention to what must be the perfect summer baby knit - tiny vests in organic cotton, just like this one I knit way back when. 

Joining in with the Yarn Along after a brief absence last week.

Grateful to be knitting something other than winter hats.

And so looking forward to seeing what everyone else is creating.

Sew Vintage: McCall's 8121

I wish I could capture the cadence of her voice in writing. "Can I come with you, Mumma? Can you help me? Can I have that one?" 

The request, this time, was a pink dress. "Can you make a pink dress for me, Mumma?" Why, of course, little one. A pink dress it is.

Luckily, this Anna Maria Horner fabric from the stash was pink enough, and the pattern, copyright 1965, also met with her approval. Bright yellow vintage buttons from my grandmother's stash finish it off.

Sew Vintage: Style 3821
Sew Vintage: Simplicity 7409

Resistance

If, every day after a tasty lunch, someone tucked me up with my favourite snuggly things, and perhaps a book or two, then kissed me on the forehead and said, "Sleep well, now," before leaving me to doze and dream while they tidied up the mess I'd made earlier, got started on dinner, and generally handled things in my absence, you know what? I wouldn't resist.

I would not resist.

this moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

Via Soulemama.

Sampler

Maybe it's the (pre)school holidays, or that enormous to-do list (which seemed to strike a chord with so many of you!), or preparations for a grand overseas voyage (with a pair of toddlers, oh, my), but I'm sorely lacking inspiration in this space. Before I fall off the wagon completely, here's a sample of what's whirling around in the background.

• Bare feet - it must be spring.
• Bright colours on the shelf.
• Another vintage sheet becomes a wardrobe staple.
• Practising her alphabet. She, and I, are so ready for big school to begin.
• Flowers outside - found in the garden this afternoon.
• Flowers inside - found in an op-shop a while ago.
• Wearing a new hat (the way it's meant to be worn). 

Rowantree Design

I met lots of lovely people at The Nursery back in August. One of them was Roberta, the incredibly talented woman behind Rowantree Design. Roberta was 'lucky' enough to score a lift to our outdoor shoot in my shockingly filthy car, and polite enough not to comment! Not only is she an international jet-setter, stylist, sailor of yachts and hands-on grandmother to her gorgeous Rowan, but she designs and creates the most beautiful vintage-inspired children's clothes. I was thrilled when a package arrived in the post last week with two sweet little dresses for Pearl and Stella. The quality is amazing and the fabric so pretty. How lucky are we?

As you can see, the girls are quite pleased with their gift. Thanks, Roberta. 

Check out her blog here, and her shop here. Go on, she's having a giveaway at the moment. You don't want to miss that.