Remember me? I used to hang around here and write stuff for you to read.
Until May last year, that is.
Around that time, I had plans to write an article all about Me Made May; I did the interviews with four fabulous seamstresses and was ready to go, but it just didn’t happen.
So what did happen? Did I drop off the face of the planet? Run off to live in a little country house with no internet? Spend so much time knitting that I didn’t have time to blog any more?
Read on to find out where I was and what’s going to be happening here on Katie Writes Stuff! Continue reading
It may not have escaped your notice that quite some time elapsed between the publication of my previous two blog posts. Almost five months, in fact, if we’re counting (and if we’re using our fingers to count, this fortunately leaves the other hand spare for a cuppa).
Now it’s easy to imagine I’ve spent that time gallivanting about the countryside, visiting all of the op shops while knitting and sewing with wild abandon. And to a certain degree, that’s pretty much what happened (although I was obliged to turn up for work on a regular basis, which puts somewhat of a crimp in the gallivanting).
However, given that I’ve attracted a whole bunch of lovely new followers thanks to an unexpected shout-out from Phil at The Twisted Yarn*, I’d like to avoid giving the impression that gallivanting comes first and blogging comes second. Except in the logical sense, where I can’t blog about gallivanting unless I have first gallivanted. Continue reading
We’re moving house tomorrow. That feels like such a surreal statement, especially considering I don’t think I’m even remotely ready, despite the fact that everything is in boxes and people will be turning up tomorrow morning to pack it into a truck for us.
This time tomorrow, whenever I see this view in the mirror, I’ll know it means we’re heading away from our home by the mountains and not towards a home in the suburbs.
We’re going to be living in a place where the only non-pedestrian traffic light is fifteen minutes away. We’re going to have a phone number that starts with a 5 instead of a 9 – that’s proper country. We’ll have a view of a mountain from the back door and a view of a mountain from the giant front window.
This time tomorrow, we’ll see what our cats make of it all.
Although, really, this time tomorrow we’ll probably be passed out on the floor, wishing this whole moving house business had never been invented in the first place.
So I’m definitely not ready to move but I am definitely ready for tomorrow to be over. Wish us luck!
Normally, when I mention rescuing treasures, I’m talking about the ones I find in op shops: items from the past that have been hidden away and scrunched up to look ordinary (possibly in a misguided attempt at camouflage). Today, however, I’m talking about treasures of my own that have been forgotten, languishing under the house, hoping, in their inanimate way, to be unearthed and enjoyed once more.
I used to have a theory about the boxes under my house: I figured that if I hadn’t missed any of the items they harboured for the past five years then I probably didn’t want them in the first place. Last weekend, I discovered that could not be further from the truth – a whole treasure trove has been lurking in the dim and dusty (and probably spider-filled) world of Under the House and I was ridiculously excited to be re-united with them.