May I be Frankie with you?

Mishell is being frank, open and honest about her world, her community, her family, her life.


She shall be known henceforth as a “finisher”


Claiming it.  I made something great.  Like, something I’d actually want if I saw it at the shops – unlike most things I make, which I proudly display to the entire universe for about twenty minutes, then frantically try to delete off Instagram because I realise how truly crap my three twigs tied together with beaded rafia and a long dangly tail of finger knitting really look compared to what six year olds are making in Cambodia.

So the quilt is a triumph for me.  I used this really simple pattern and tutorial from Cluck Cluck Sew which you can view here. The quilt’s particularly special to us because we chose the fabrics on the same day that we learned our little bun in the oven is in fact of the male variety. It took AGES to find just the right colours and patterns and we had piles of fabric bolts lined up along the floor at Spotlight, annoying more than a few fellow customers.  It’s definitely a baby quilt, but we avoided anything involving teddy bears or robots or cowboys (although the cowboys were damn hard to resist).

Once the quilt top was made, we headed over to Mum’s for my very first actual quilting experience, which also included coffee for me and a nap on the couch for Mel.  Mum has this amazing sewing room with a significantly larger table than my own 50 buck dining setting, so it was easy to lay it all out to baste and sandwich the thing.  I had such a great time working together with Mum and then chatting while I sewed and she pottered through her stash.  I learnt where I got my non-finishing genes from – Mum had a bunch of gorgeous quilt tops and half-completed projects lying around which I was so ready to swipe and finish myself, they were beautiful!


I made Mel take this photo of me quilting just in case I never do it again!

I brought everything home, including Mum’s sewing machine, to do the binding.  After cutting everything evenly, it turned out that the quilt was no longer perfectly rectangular, which caused pretty much the biggest tantrum I’ve ever had, until I remeasured and realised it was so close to perfect and easily fixable (the easily fixable part came from a phone call to Mum).  Anyway, all you die-hard quilters will want to slap my hands, but I machine-bound the thing basically because I can’t thing of anything worse than sitting still hand-sewing for hours on end.  It kind of worked.  I used this tutorial from Lori at Bee in My Bonnet and it worked a treat as far as I’m concerned.

Right, well.  We may not have a car seat, pram, cot, bottles, nappies or other necessary items required for baby rearing, but by golly, we’ve got a damn cute quilt! That’ll do, right?

Enjoy the pretty pics!




Ta-Da! Stick-rafia ornament, eat your heart out.


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Three girls, three chooks, and a baby.


My mother told me yesterday that my daughter was lamenting the fact that she didn’t have one special talent.  Mum consoled her by saying that this was normal, that it was good to be capable of many things, rather than excellent at just one.  She also commented that “willingness to try new things” was a special talent that was certainly more significant than being a spectacular kazoo player. My daughter wholeheartedly agreed, noting that she is unusually game compared to her peers when it comes to exploring new foods.  Ah, she’s been taught well.

I, like my daughter, find myself to be competent at most things, excellent at none.  This could be a measure of my non-dedication to any activity.  I’m bored easily, lazy about details, and quickly get caught up in the next new thought.  So I guess, apart from my own talent for adventurous eating, I’m good at ideas.  Blogging is my latest idea.  Maybe it won’t last.  The beauty is, I can blog about all my ideas without having to actually fulfil any of them! 

So here we go.  I plan to write stories about my life with my funny old chooks; beautiful daughter Saphira; loyal and loving partner Mel; and the wriggling wondrous baby boy that’s growing in Mel’s tummy.  He’s 28 weeks baked, only 12 to go.  I’ll also write opinions on things that interest me; reviews of books, events, art and culture; and musings on the various hobbies and things I try out when the creativity bug bites. I’ll write my ideas.  They’re my special talent.