What's in my (hand) bag

This is one of my favourite things that bloggers do. 

I'm a total sucker for 'what's in my bag' posts.  But I do also wonder a little bit whether people do really already have the cool stuff (because inevitably the stuff is all cool), or they have to go and find it so they can do the post.  I'm definitely a have-to-go-and-find-it sort, because I can assure you, if I were to do the big tip-out right now,  I wouldn't be taking a photo of it and it wouldn't be looking like what 99.99% of bloggers post in gorgeously styled shots. 

For example, first off, I have no idea how many of the tissues I've grabbed at the last minute while running out the door that're still stuffed in my bag, have actually been used on the not-ginger's nose. Ugh. Probably the solution to that would be purse packs, but ... well ... purse packs. There has to be a better way. (There probably isn't)

So, there'd be those in my shot.  Lovely. 

There'd also be a cellphone with a cracked case ala dropped-it-on-the-concrete-driveway, a sunglasses case that has seen many better days and isn't anywhere near as together as it used to be, the Elizabeth Arden lipstick one of my kids wound up while the cap (cap? lid? top? I should know this) was still on, a gazillion (or three) hair ties and a purple Deadly Ponies wallet with a post-it note reminder stuck to it because whilst I do own a smartphone ... meh. There is my favourite taylor black merino beanie though which is pretty redeeming, the Marc by Marc Jacobs enamel and gold bangle the husband bought me last year, which is also redeeming and if you give me about half an hour to rummage, I should be able to find my lip balm.  The one thing I always have on me, and yet the one thing I consistently can't find.

Yes, I think it's definitely best to just show you the bag instead.  All secrets within, remaining so. 

My much loved Sass, by Kohl & Chochineal. (Also, Sass is black. You'd never know it by that lighting, for which I apologise)

The case of the impeccably bad timing vs me

I said I wouldn't, but I started watching The Block NZ.

I blame the ensuite.  I think I might have resisted if it hadn't been for that.  My plan was to resist.  But, we pulled up the carpet and started talking paint and fixtures and renovatey, redecoratey wotnot and ... sigh.  Dammit.  I had to.

The problem is, in the first year of The Block, we discovered our dining room table which I adore.  Or, in fairness, Ben and Libby discovered our dining room table, we thought they were geniuses and then Ben was kind enough to respond to a twitter plea and tell me where they got it from so then, it became our dining room table.  Then last year, Loz and Tom put up a splashback painted by Flox, whose work we both really like, and so a Flox splashback went on our renovation wishlist.  That's the hook for me.  It comes down to having the saddest case of FOMO* ever. 

Sucker.

I don't know how long it'll last though.  I watched all of episode one, fast forwarded half of episode two, fast forwarded even more of episode three, and find myself in something near physical pain that they're. still. not. in. the. houses.  And by 'in the houses', I mean, hanging out inside what looks pretty much like framing.  Is that really a reno?  I preferred the spirit of season one.

Still.  All has not been lost.  The night before last, one of the teams got very hangry and made a trip to New World for a fruit pot (I know, right?  In my world, a fruit pot does not hangriness fix, though it's a bit funny that someone actually scripted that.  I hope they did anyway, because if they didn't that means someone actually does think a fruit pot will fix their hangry.  It's all just so disingenuous - if the fruit pot fixes your hangy, you're not really hangry (or definitely not the sort of hangry that happens in this house), and if you are hangry, a fruit pot?? ... gah)** which reminded me that I'd totally forgotten to go and get the kids the Little Shop cash registers I'd meant to pick up during the week, so I went and sorted that today.  Win!         

And if nothing else at all, last night, I fast forwarded my way through the episode with this little guy to keep me company.  Could have been worse, no?

* Fear of missing out.

** Things we have learned this week - I still love brackets and I am as inclined as ever to veer far off topic.

Paris Letters

I've been trying to make some quiet time in each day to clear my head of the rush of every day life, and for me that's usually either writing, or reading. 

I wish I could give you a gorgeous story about how I came across these, but the honest truth?  I read it in a magazine (it does get a bit cooler though as soon as your brain clocks that that's a line out of Bennie and the Jets, adn you start singing it in your head) that randomly appeared in my life, that was on its way to the recycling pile when I stopped to read about a jeans manufacturer.  And there, tucked in amongst Blondie, sneakers and some really edgy fashion, were  Paris letters.  I think it may have actually been a piece about the book (the story behind the letters), but it got me, anyway.

(Also, FYI, I'll pick anything up to read about a jeans manufacturer.  Jeans fascinate me ... mostly because trying to find a perfectly fitting design that you love is a complete sod and they're top of my list of hideous-to-shop-for things.  Ergo, it's the proverbial horrible thing about to happen that you can't look away from).

(And yep, I still love my brackets)

Paris Letters is a painted letter service you can subscribe to (here on Etsy).  The original is hand painted, and although subscribers are sent a (hand addressed) copy, they're still a beautiful thing to receive and such a pleasure to just pause and sit down with.  I'm sure there will come a day when I'm seen standing at the mailbox, not even able to make it inside before I have to see what she's painted next, what story she has to tell, but for now, so far, I've managed to wait until a quiet part of the day when I can make a cup of tea (or make the husband make a coffee, because somehow I've managed to still not learn how to use the coffee machine) and just savour them.

I love my Paris letters.

(I also ordered the book, and I loved that too.  And I know, it's about $15.00 a month for the subscription, but I'm happy to forego a couple of coffees out, or still have a coffee and just flag the cake!  I need these quiet times more.  I also usually have a magazine subscription or two running, so I let one of these expire.  I get so much more joy out of my letters)

 

Things I'm loving right now, the sartorial edition

Texture.  It's fun, and it also feels like I'm being really clever, adding interest and dimension to my wardrobe without stepping outside my colour comfort zone.  I'm very fond of my colour comfort zone.

Stripes.  Yay, stripes!

Cropped pants.  A really bad idea with my cankles, but meh.

Progress in taking something of a reasonable photo. Go figure.

And layers.  Lots and lots of layers.  I don't know how I didn't hit on this before - they keep you WARM for a start (I know, right? genius), but really long base layers hide all your wobbly bits and still let you wear cool short top layers if you so desire.  Happiness.  I've been pretty lucky (my Mastercard, not so much) to have be able to have some wardrobe fun this year - a lot of my layers needed replacing but I've also lost 10kg over about 9-12 months so .... my pants AND tops were falling down.  Not good for me, not good for you.  Thankfully, I managed to get most of a capsule wardrobe sorted before the bathroom flooded and we lost ourselves in the paint shop.

Uh, also, in relation to those shoes ... they are Tracey Neuls and were designed in the UK.  And possibly also shipped from there.  Bad, BAD (happy, new-shoe-loving) ginger.  But you do have to understand, there are shoes, and then there is art on your feet (I like that.  Art on your feet.  Heh).  Of course, it's a bit tricky when you've publicly committed to buying only New Zealand designed fashion for a year, and I do feel a little bit guilty, but ... um ... Well, look at them.

That thing we do

A couple of weeks ago, our ensuite flooded.  The toilet is really old - it seems to constantly run and the tap has been leaky for ages (we keep a bucket under it to catch the drips, which works out brilliantly for the cat who thinks it's the best water ever), but for some reason it ran more and faster starting, I think, sometime the night before I wandered in there at 4pm and the carpet went splash.  Fab.

(Yes, carpet.  Carpet in the ensuite and carpet in the bathroom.  In a family home.  Genius.  And it's still down 2 years later, because we're lazy and the thought of making flooring decisions makes me twitch.)

So, a few days and much looking at flooring samples later, while twitching and scratching our heads over a box of panadol, we decided to rip up the (black) carpet, see how the light looked and hopefully that'd help with our decision making.

It did.

It also led to this, because we just. can't. stop. ourselves.  And apparently never doing another redecoration or renovation again ever means not for roughly two years.  At least this time, there's no rush at all, and there'll be quite a lot of just moving things around and paint. 

(These are both lounge walls - the lounge, kitchen, dining is open plan, so the lounge has 2 dark red walls and one mid grey.  I should just photograph it.  Except, I'd feel obliged to tidy up after hurricane children first, so you just get to visualise it until I've had enough coffee)

Time flies

It's been nearly a year since I last posted, and even that was a new beginning for the blog that barely started before it stopped again.  I've never quite found my blogging feet (or theme) again post infertility blog, and I've thought a lot about this wee writing home of mine, wondering whether I should start again.  Or even whether I could.  Should I start new and fresh - no more eating cake for breakfast?  But, I've been eating cake for breafast for a really long time, and I really like cake, so no.  Eating cake for breakfast, I'll stay.

It is time to come back though.  I miss my blog.  I miss the writing (I've been doing some writing, contributing for NZ fashion e-zine Threadnz.com , and the shopping confessions (bless him, the husband even offered not to read the blog if I re-started it, although he was probably lying through his teeth so he could fool me into confessing more - Ha!  No!  I shall not be tricked!) and posting photos of cake.  So, here I am.  To do what, remains to be seen - a bit of shopping, some design, a lot of coffee and cake, this, that and the other things.  We'll see. 

First though, I think I need a new cover photo, don't you?  I'll work on that.  Maybe some shoes.  I like shoes, and I took a really clever (I thought it was clever anyway, and on a relative scale for how clever I usually am with photos, it was definitely worth a round of applause) picture of some shoes (awesome shoes, by the way.  Alpha Loafers, by NZ shoe designer R E V I E) for a piece I did on NZ Fashion here.  I have a feeling this is one of those things that might change quite often.  This week shoes, next week ... probably more shoes.

Thanks for coming back x