quake

earth's belly was rumbling

he got angry and threw his plates

and children wondered in innocence how santa would get to them this year

men atop roofs everywhere,

quickly fixing

a power pole collapsed like a toothpick and

the grandmother who spent the last few months of widowhood redecorating her home in modest yet romantic tones, to frame a loving memory of her one and only, sees it sinks into swamp and become full of silt as she struggled to leave through reluctant doors with warped frames, with family jewels and a wedding photo in her arms

concrete has cracked like fissures in vagrants feet, deep and sore

and mounds of mud and sewage spew forth like vomit,

bodies still sway, all day,

spooked in every cell

families lay camped out in lounge rooms, pulling in, keeping low, warm but waiting

disc jockeys voices, coming from a huddled over wireless, are well rehearsed to calm and soothe and play mellow jazz and crooning country

but still the east and west are fighting and they won't let go

a mother lays in bed with one eye open, glad for snores abound but knows all is not over

old brick and mortar turns to dust and motes

historic frontages toppled like dominoes, too old to hold tight

fires when fuses frayed and spat when the power came back on

some of us were running with babies in our arms, carpet burns from when we fell and fought against the agitation in the walls, spinning us in all directions, shaking concrete, to a corner of a room, unable to move forward and desperately clawing with every step

buckets full of broken crockery and a car buried under brick

the house became a ship and we the fearful captains

the road was arching and sparking, it's metal rubbing raw

quick, think, heart racing, terror... do what you can...

still... wait... shake... down... hold... held... hide...

we're alive... keep going... another and another...

coming towards us like a train, when you are only inches from the tracks

the elderly, fragile and calling blindly out for help are thrown from their beds

almost crushed by furniture,

touching forehead, chest, left and right over heart

and afterwards and in between, anonymous neighbours chat for the first time tweaked by adrenalin that makes them cheerful and concerned

everyday a zigzag

we anticipate collapse,

craggy cliffs of volcanic rock snap and roll down the valley, scaring it for life

and we are wearing clothes to bed, again

afflicted by the imprint of fear, the cold and acidic kind

a lampshade was liberated, swaying side to side by metres

white noise deafens too quiet children sitting on pillows, a favourite toy in hand,

cannot-comprehending why parents can't make it stop

fire walls are falling, parapets toppling down, missing heads all the way

sirens constant calling, warning, helicopters searching

and Pakistan and Haiti a little closer to home

intestines in knots and hearts nearly beating right out of their chests,

frightened new born baby mice, sensitive and still,

another round of aftershocks coming... calling...

a gradual goodbye but not soon enough

a cinema seat sits lonely,

perched on the open edge of its former grandeur,

fallen and never replaced

the shaky isles are shaking

and we are looking the devil in between the eyes

half asleep children clinging luckily to life with a parent praying

bones shaking, nerves rattled, teeth gurn, stomachs churn

living with a tech tonic monster beast

the taste of worry is like blood and bone and bile

and when darkness surrounds, our babies are snoring and shaking without knowing it

and later still, when the fridge stops complaining, making noises of its own,

I can hear a magpie calling, laughing "fools, you have no feathers!"

lines and shapes are forced out everywhere like shattered walnut shell

and we are trying to find our breath again, a resting place for the mind,

hoping all that can be done, has been done.

new knits

I have spent a great deal of time of late, sitting and knitting on this green chair

the thinking and worries too, are there...

but the view from there is quite nice and the sun within reach,

and the quiet voice within has something to teach...

...trackies and slippers are the new knitting uniform...

...a new cardi for moi, in a mousey possum merino blend from these guys.

free pattern found here. It's called the...

for baby Lincoln

mamaG's had a few merino commissions on the go lately...

Raglan sleeve tops, merino pants, antenna beanie and black zoo bib for a newly hatched baby boy called Lincoln.

If you have any queries or if you would like to place an order, please refer to my email address at the top of this blog. Or checkout my shop.

I have plenty of colour way and style options I can email through to you.

...have a goodie!

x mamaG

spring cardi

the kids have been sick, but all that home time meant i finally finished her spring cardi.

cabling also slows things down...

a kind of starfish before before I sewed the seams up

wool.... and pattern...

from this typically cheesey looking book...

with others ideas in it for next winter

...a good garment for bridging between the seasons and for cool summer evenings.

collecting in

gifts from little people

given in small unfurling hands,

special things they have found.

presented with big eyes, big heart, big smile

and a tilted head.

for you mama! i found it for you...

pulling me away from whatever to now

where i see what sweet babies they are, the pleasers, the heart melters, the impish little dreamers, the treasure gatherers.

perhaps having found these things, they don't know what else to do with them, but can't bring themselves to throw them away.

the innocence, the magic, the notion that the treasure found them first.

the mother acting as custodian of precious collections.

sometimes it is just because their pockets are uncomfortably full

and they still want for more

...lumps of smooth brick, broken glass bottles and smashed crockery

worn smooth by the waves, the salt and the tide.

my hair is filled with daisies, weeds behind my ears,

around my feet a circle of stones and oddly shaped bark and all manner of organic and inorganic matter,

my handbag sandy with shells and feathers and bottle tops and brightly coloured plastics.

still, i won't diminish the gesture of having given them to me

and i choose my moment to let them fall away, or add them to the garden or into a bowl on the bench for a while longer

...a little gesture of gratitude given back.

springing

even the dead are happy

charging chard

the spirited lass

spring shadow

hankie house

There are some handcrafts that I quietly scoff ...crochet sugar bowl doilies and pot plant hangers, fancy tissue box covers and the like. The purely decorative aspect with seemingly little necessary function. Craft for crafts sake. The-"don't you have anything better to do?'-crafting. The dust gatherers.

Previously, I would of put a 'hankie house' in that category of hilarious, time wasting,

craft practice. But having seen this and electing to make the switch from disposable tissues to regular handkerchiefs, I am full of praises for the practically of the 'hankie house'.

However, there was initially some contention and debate over this converting...

The Mr used to buy disposables, two jumbo boxes at a time, one for work and one for home, always an arms length away and adamant they were softer on the nose and more hygienic.

But it hurt my wallet to buy them and it never sat right with me.

I had a feeling that going to cloth (like the nappy thing) was likely to make me more organized and less likely to rely on some vague notion of convenience and expedience that tissue companies promote.

It seems to me the ads are brain washing us into feeling that tissues are a real need (in stead of a perceived one) and that anything else is some how unsavoury and regressive.

Aside from the disposability of tissues and the associated expense, I beg to differ when it comes to issues of hygiene and softness.

The cost of washing hankies is negligible when they are tossed in with your regular washing.

I estimate you can get about 10 years use from your average hankie (try not to drop it okay)

And how many people actually wash their hands thoroughly, every time they wipe their (or their children's) noses anyway?

...plus there's nothing worse in time of need, than finding a half disintegrated, dead tissue, drowned from the last wash in your pocket, and trying to unfold the powdery wad to use on a child whose big snot candle is about to drip into their mouth!

From my own experience and anecdotally substantive online research it seems well documented that a cotton hankie will always be much nicer on the nose than wood chip/pulp based tissues.

It must be noted though, that polyester hankies aren't so good.

A poly cotton mix is OK but the 100% cotton ones always feel the best. Voile cottons are divine. So too are the light weight linens. Silk is heaven.

As for the over compensatory practice of coating tissues in pseudo natural products like aloe vera and eucalyptus oil etc ...it's quite frankly more spooge I can do without. see here

My favourite hankies are the ones I've had for years, gifted by grandmas who knew good hankies when they saw them.

And here comes a confession with a stigma...

...if I'm out opp shopping and I spy a stack of talcum powder/granny smelling hankies straight from an estate nicker draw, I will scoop them up and suppress a squeal of delight to the op shop gods. The soft worn cotton feels like home (even if it is someone else's) and is good to use straight away, where as, the overly stiff, tightly woven hankies of new need a few washes to relax the weave.

Some of the much older handkerchiefs are worthy of a close examination (no, not for unwashed crusties!) but to really appreciate the handwork detailing:

...the ladylike fabrics with pretty floral motifs in the finest weave, the sentimentality of hand embroidered linens, the pretty crochet trims and delicate edging, the meticulous tatting and lace work made from minute holes.

All clues to the past and examples of a tradition that make you yearn for the gentler days when women were feminine and men were gentlemen.

Ebay has a surprising amount of vintage hankie-trading traffic going on.

Although this is a fairly affordable hobby (say compare to classic cars, or Victorian teddy bears) die hard hankie collectors will be willing to pay upwards of $100 US for rare and excellent examples of snot rags.

On that note, if you want to read about hankie collecting read this

But if you want to make a 'hankie house' like mine here's how:

fabric required:

front panels are both 2x 18x 20 cm

back panel is 22x 32

the handle is 30x 8 cms

zip 20-30 cm

finished size: 18x 30

Front: fold front opening hems under 1 cms twice and top stitch 1 cm on front

Back: fold the zip seam allowance under 1 cm both sides of zip. Sew in place.

Handle: fold handle in half length ways and iron and open, fold long sides into the middle, then in half again to make 30x 2 cm long handle

Sandwich front and back panels together and pin with handle ends protruding from the top (handle inside sandwich)

Sew 1 cm seam allowance around all 4 sides.

Turn right side out through the front opening and hand stitch front opening shut leaving 4 inch (10 cm) opening from which to pull your hankies out.

I used echino linen on the front and and tawny linen stripe on the back.

Ours is hung by our front door so that we can just grab one when we are on our way out (if we don't already have one in our pocket)

I generally go for the one hankie per person for one day deal.

At the end of each day they go into the wash.

So far it's working really well and no one is complaining!

So... I've taken things a step further...

...and I'm now making my own hankies!!

(I am boarder line embarrassed about this...and you may find it cringe worthy)

But...It only cost me $11.20 to make 16! (70 cents and maybe two minutes of my time each!)

They are 35 cm light weight 100% cotton squares, ironed and hemmed with a roll hem (or any basic hem you can be bothered doing)

Now all the men in my life will know what (cheap! eco! plaid!) presents they'll be getting from me for all the upcoming birthdays, christmases, fathers days etc

And to finish with a joke..

How do you make a handkerchief dance?

... Put a little boogie in it!