I had a Voss water bottle.



I had some glass beads what k. had brung me back from Effrika.



I had a whole heap of sea glass lovingly collected from the shores of CY O'Connor beach.

I had a banging door that required, if you will, a final solution. Voila and voici!

Marked Out

Remember Strand crayons? (I do.) I used to hold my nose up to a fresh box, breathing in the waxy goodness and the smell of potential. Alas, I always kept my colouring-in within the lines.

I'm not as sweet as I used to be.

It's a good thing I'd already emailed everyone the details of my 40th birthday celebration. Because if I'd waited to actually invite them via my proper, real world, paper invitations, I may have found I'd left it too late and everyone's dance cards were full. So the invitations are but a formality, and yet, here's my point: they're done!

I decided to make them in the middle of a packing frenzy, when I'd already boxed up all my photos and slides. Luckily, I had this photo on my other blog, which I changed to sepia to better suit the colour scheme of the card, and I felt my expression in it conveyed the sentiment I was trying to express.


Also, due to the packing frenzy and having no time - no time! - I had to keep them fairly simple. All those strips and bits of paper and pieces of ribbon were fairly fiddly and time consuming, but I drew the line at inking edges of paper for that finished look. Maybe in ten years' time I'll look back and think, "I should have inked, dammit. I should. have. inked!!", and there will be a great wailing and gnashing of teeth, but too bad. I'm just glad I've got invitations out.


And, wide wide world of webs, I even made one where I could show you the insides:


There are table decorations in the works, too. After all, it is my fortieth birthday. I really should make an effort. Check back here later on for progress on those.

I haven't ordered a cake yet. I was thinking of getting chocolate and vanilla cupcakes iced with green and pink icing. But I might just go for a Princess cake from Miss Maud's. I love Princess cake, and the green icing and raspberry jam would be thematically appropriate.

Marked Men

There's an old, abandoned set of shops on Beaufort Street in Mount Lawley that is fenced off at the front, but you can get into round the back. It's full of graffiti. I originally stopped there to get a snap of the old Pauls ice cream advertisement painted on the wall, but the inside was far more interesting.

Flat As

I woke up this morning, after a glorious and much-needed sleep-in, to the sight of the full, ivory moon slipping behind some pink clouds against a mauve sky. I didn't rush to take a photo or anything so I could show you here, but I did lie in bed enjoying the prettiness of it all, and then I noticed how cool it was and I thought it might be time to make some pancakes.

I'm talking here about those thin creations sometimes called crepes. But I call them pancakes because that's what I grew up calling them, and that's what the recipe is called in The Golden Wattle Cookery Book. Whatever Golden Wattle says is alright by me. Besides, I don't like those thick things. Too...um...cakey.

Pancakes were such a treat when I was a kid. Looking back, I realise what a labour of love making them must have been for Ern as he patiently stirred all the lumps out of the batter with a fork. Though whether the love was directed at me or at the pancakes I will, fortunately, never have to know. Pancake mix was always made in this jug of Dyzie's:


This little jug has long been a source of jokes between Bezley and I, as it resided in the Ern-Bezley household for many a year before being passed on to me.

"hazelblackberry, you might want to have a look at what's on the table." "Oh I see you're using my jug." None of us realise how fortunate we are that Bezley has such a great sense of humour.

I don't make pancakes in this jug. I use a bigger bowl that will take my electric beaters - no patient fork-stirring for me!

So we start with flour and eggs. You know, with a well in the middle. I always make the well in the middle, but it never seems to make any difference that I can tell.


I've had a lifelong paranoia of off eggs, so I always break them into another container first. It may mean extra washing up, but what price peace of mind? You will note that these eggs are okay. Phew.


Then we add the milk and some salt and whiz it all together.


Before you can cook pancakes, you have to let the batter rest for half an hour or so. Pancake batter is so precious! Not like hardy little pikelets which take a vicious beating and then jump straight into the pan to be cooked!


While the batter is resting you do two things. First, you get the lemon and sugar ready. I really never have anything but lemon and sugar with my pancakes. I've tried other toppings, but I always come back to lemon and sugar, with the pancake rolled up like a cigar.


So you've got your lemon and sugar sorted. Now it's time to think about what you're going to drink with your pancakes. I make this little mess:


It's Milo, powdered milk, milk and ice all blended together. It's delicious!


(This was all only cooked for myself. I just used two cups for effect. Or something.)

By the time you've piddled around doing that, it's time to get out the right size frying pan and make those pancakes. In my house, in my life, the first cake of the pan is a dud. I don't know why this is - sometimes it's because I don't let the pan get hot enough first, but that doesn't explain it every time. It's a kind of exercise in patience and forbearance, knowing the first pancake will be a dud. Or do I simply create the reality of the dud first pancake with my negative expectations? Frankly, who cares.



Once you've turfed that mucky first creation, you get some more batter back in the pan and now you've got it all happening.


You have two choices on how to proceed from here. You can cook all the pancakes at once, rolling them up and placing them in a dish in the oven to keep warm as you go. Or you cook one pancake, get it sprinkled with sugar and lemon, rolled and stuffed in your gob while you cook the next one. I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out which method I prefer.

Bon appetit!

Pussy's In the Well

I may have mentioned elsewhere that New Girl is gittin' married. So I'm making her wedding invitations. Last night she came over to my place and we formed a little production line of measuring, cutting and folding. Henry Ford would have been proud.

New Girl handled the guillotine with great precision and disturbing gusto. Luckily Man Hands was asleep on the couch. He might have been a little.....unnerved.

You can't see the ring very well in that photo, so lets get a little bit closer.


This is what the finished product will look like. The brown, cream and coffee colours have all come together quite nicely. With a little bit of pale green.


I tried to photograph the velum we're using: it has a lovely leaf pattern on it in white and green. It hasn't come out so well here but when they're done I'll take some more photos in a better light.

She's only just beginning to know.

I love my long morning walks on the beach. They're truly therapeutic and reviving. When I go back to work next week my communing with the salt and sand shall have to be reconfigured; not abandoned - heaven forbid! - but certainly reconfigured.

What I appreciate about having all the time in the world is being able to ramble for as long as I want. I like continuing my walk along CY O'Connor beach where there are more shells and lots more sea glass. Probably because there's less people, but it also must be something to do with the tides and the flow of the water. Maybe?


And look, I even found four pieces of blue glass. Aren't they beautiful? You never see blue glass! [Well, clearly not never...]

You know, you can keep your diamonds ("Why, thank you. I will," says New Girl). If some lovely chap ever wants to give me a ring it can have little chips of sea glass in it. That would suit me down to the ground.

Under the mistletoe and under the influence.

With the help of several glasses of champagne and a string of lewd observations by QEII about people we know, I've finally finished the tags for my Christmas presents:


This is what they look like on the back. I didn't see that mark on the Christmas tree when I took the photo. It's very annoying. Like, I'm annoyed?


You can see when they're on the Christmas presents how the whole grand design comes together. I know, they're fabulous and, by extension, I'm fabulous. Well, why hide your light under a bushel?!


The Christmas cards are, however, another story. Another unfinished story. I've decided they'll be New Year cards. Mebbe.


Finny doesn't judge you for your unfinished cards. He just judges you for how much Christmas bacon goes into his breakfast bowl.


Have a lovely day everyone!

Neil, what ARE you doing? Rapping!

I was feeling grouchy and out of sorts. New Girl suggested I try wrapping Christmas presents to cheer myself up. That girl should be a professional therapist! I bunged some Sinead O'Connor on the stereo - because she's, like, so Christmas-y - and began wr-wr-wrapping. After an hour of cutting paper and tying ribbon, I felt fabulous! (Nine out of ten people who feel hazelblackberry agree that she feels fabulous.)

I've gone with a white and orange theme this year. Which implies that I have a theme each year. I photographed them against my red front door, just to give things that yuletide vibe. It's so important, the vibe of the thing.


Don't they look good together? I reckon I should keep all the presents at my house this year and make everyone come to me, to see the beautiful massing of white and orange.


But hazelblackberry, I hear you ask, now that you've wrapped all these lovely pressies, how do you know who's getting which one? Good question. Simply turn over each present for the subtle and ingeious answer:


But yellow stickies don't really scream Christmas do they? So tomorrow I'm getting cracking on the tags that will go with them. I think things are going to work out very nicely.

Sunday Brunch

A toasted (and buttered) muffin, English spinach, a poached egg, mushies and a little bit of barbecue sauce. I couldn't stuff around too long taking a photo - I just wanted to eat that sucker!