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!

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.

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.

Longstockings

As k. and I walked on the beach today I collected some pipi shells that had neat little holes bored into them.

When I got home I threaded them on to a ribbon.....


.....popped them in a box wrapped in some (different) ribbon.....


.....and this afternoon I'll give it to Small Thing. Because I love her.

All the world wonder'd.

Well, it's not yet Orthodox Easter so I suppose I'm not TOTALLY behind the times. It's just that I took all these photos of the Easter treats I made and I won't be denied.

I won't.

It all started in 2006 when Bezley was buying gourmet ice cream from a little shop down the road. I thought the containers would make something, but I didn't know what. So I got her to eat away and save the containers for me. She's a trooper, that Bezley.


It wasn't until late last year that I was looking at my stack of foam containers and thought, "They're shaped like half an egg. Maybe I should decorate them up and fill them with Easter eggs!" I nearly fainted with my own brilliance.

I had some pretty grand plans for these babies but then suddenly it was two weeks until Easter and I hadn't done anything and yet I was determined to do something so I scaled my grand plans back considerably. I went to Bunnings and I bought some paint:


These are little sample jars of acrylic paint. They're quite cheap - only about $4 a jar.

I painted the bottom of the eggs brown (when the paint first went on it really looked like chocolate):


I painted the tops pink (because I have decided to colour-code my seasons, and everything I do at Easter is pink and brown. Actually, that's the only season I've colour-coded so far.):


And I painted these little wooden decorations (also bought at Bunnings, for about $1 each) a sort of murky combo of light brown and lime green. I wasn't too happy with this but decided to press on:


I knew then that all I wanted to do was attach some ribbon around the top of the brown part and put a little label on the lid. Finding the ribbon was hard. I settled for this green stuff (there was a lot of "settling for". "Settling for" leaves me unsettled, and yet into the valley of death rode the six hundred...):


I lined each egg with squished-up pink tissue paper and poured in eggs:


Then I made up brown tags with pink and green ink, stuck them to the lid with the murky wooden decs glued over one edge. They don't look too bad, do they? Not too bad.


They weren't the Easter treats I was hoping for, but they were certainly the Easter treats I got. I finally sent and delivered them on the Tuesday after Easter.


Every time I have the chance to learn some kind of profound lesson about preparation and planning and malice aforethought I seem to pass up the opportunity (except the bit about malice aforethought).

k. is going to call me demanding to know why she didn't get one. It's because I left hers on the counter at the post office and when I went back to get it it was gone. Then she was in Fiji and I forgot all about it. Sorry, k.. Next time.

Surpreeeeez!

It's The Burp's Big Book of Sudoku!

I know, I know...what the?

Well, aaaages ago, I was over visiting The Burp and The Rooster and The Burp was complaining that she never gets to do the sudoku in the paper because The Rooster gets to it first. So, rather than going straight out to a newsagent and buying her a stack of sudoku books, tying them up in a ribbon and giving them to her, I decided to collect sixty sudoku puzzles, and their answers, from the paper and put them in her very own book.

I told New Girl about my plan and she made a most crafty and innovative addition to the plan: throw in a sheet of plastic so the answers can be rubbed out and the puzzles done over and over. I threw in an extra sheet of plastic in case the other one gets mucky over time.

And I've attached a pen that can be rubbed off the plastic with a tissue and a bit of spit (just as though your Nanna was cleaning your face).


Apart from the 10 weeks it took to collect the puzzles, this was very quick to put together once I finally sat down to do it - no more than a couple of hours.
I realised all the puzzles and their corresponding solutions would need to be numbered, so out came my trusty number stamps and the best ink pad in the world: Brilliance Moonlight White. This little baby comes up nice and bright on the blackest of black sheets and dries quickly.


The Burp seemed to like it. It's got her name on it: hopefully that will be enough to keep that pesky Rooster at bay.

What is it? (It's it.)

I've finished another project on my to-do list. A while ago I told The Burp I was putting together a little surpreez for her. When I say "a while ago" I think this was about April. In my defence, it did take me two months to collect the contents of the surpreez, and then, as with all other projects I start, it sat around and sat around waiting for me to put it all together. Which I finally did on the weekend. And it really didn't take that long - this is also always the way.

I am being deliberately vague because The Burp won't get this surpreez until Wednesday, when we have lunch. All will be revealed then! In the meantime, here are some photos.

(I hope The Burp isn't too excited. I mean, it's just a little thing, it's just a little gum wrapper, and she'll probably look at me like I'm an idiot.)

First of all, red, black and white is the theme of this project. I love my acrylic paints. I have to restrain myself from using them on everything.

This project involves letters. What could it be???

Okay, here's a glimpse. Just a glimpse - that's all you're allowed....

It's a mystery, like Agatha Christie.

A bit of everything.

Slightly less simple is this little card I made. Somehow it all came together quite quickly. I could see which colours would best suit the pictures and would go together straight away. Then it was just a matter of cuting and sticking.

I can only show the cover. The recipient says she'll cut my throat if I show the photos inside. And I believe her.

When Grumpy saw these he said, "So you're not a minimalist?"

While Grumpy was out at the rugby last night, I sat at my little desk and put together these mini-mini photo albums for a couple of friends.

I don't know if they will like them; I hope they do. I tend to give people things that I would like to receive. So I make or buy in a rush of enthusiasm and then panic as to what reaction I'll get.

But I do get a lot of pleasure simply out of creating something: good, bad or indifferent.

I started these in the afternoon, with plenty of sun and light around. The room where I work is quite dimly lit, and even with a table lamp I always feel at night as though I'm working in a fog, just feeling my way around. I worry that things won't look right in the harsh light of day. Then I tell myself that everything is dimmed and altered in the same way, so what matches in one light will match in another. Makes sense?

Since I decided not to make any more cards for the time being, I feel a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I'd stupidly turned it into an obligation. Which sounds quite egotistical. I really meant only from my own point of view, not because everyone is panting for a hazelblackberry original.

Now I can concentrate on catching up on all of my projects for other people, and I'm ripping through them. It gives me an enormous sense of satisfaction.

And the bonus is that the card shop down the street gives you a free card for every nine you buy!