Yes, I paint hollowed out eggs for Easter. Bite me.

 

Yes, I paint hollowed out eggs for Easter. Bite me.

8 April 2024

I do so love myself a festive season. Of any particular kind. Xmas and Easter? Bring it on. Sadly, we’re not very big on Halloween. Cause I suspect I could’ve gotten really sucked into that one big time.

 

So Easter was last weekend. And we had a lovely family meal with all of the kids and Amber’s boyfriend, Rob too. Such a super chilled and relaxing day.

 

And I know that most people don’t decorate for Easter. Look, I get it. It’s not for everyone. In fact, loads of people don’t even decorate for Xmas. You do you, and all that. Each to their own.

 

But I am so very, very fond of an occasion. Of any kind. And at this time of the year, Easter is as good an excuse as any. In addition, it gives me a marginally legitimate reason to decorate and indulge in some crafting.

 

So pray tell, what do I do? Well, I paint hollowed out eggs. And lots of them. Yip. I know I’m kinda nuts. And most people don’t really get the point it all. But that’s okay. Cause I get it. I grew up doing it and it’s an activity interwoven with many happy memories of wonderful times together. In the home that I grew up in when I was still a children. I enjoyed it when my children were little, when some of them were a bit bigger, and even now. They’ve all given up and no longer indulge. The youth of today. No stamina, I tell you. Even now, when I visit my Mom over Easter time, we all indulge and paint big time. And usually some of my kids will pick up their paint brushes too.

 

But as for me, I GO ALL OUT!!! And I absolutely love it. Never let it be said that I don’t go the whole hog. Cause truth be told, I’m rather fond of hogs too. Which brings me to another point? Why isn’t there a whole celebration for the wonderful, miraculous pig?

 

So here’s the thing. You don’t just randomly paint hollowed out eggs. First, you have to ensure that they get hollow in the first place. Which means scrambled eggs on the daily, or almost daily. In addition, there’s pancakes, waffles, flapjacks and the like. You’ve got to painstakingly making teeny tiny little holes, blow out the insides and then meticulously wash them. It’s also takes a bit of time for them to dry. Then you’ve got to give them a few base coats so you’ve got a solid colour to begin with. Having a wishy-washy background is not nice at all, and it diminishes the overall effect of the final product. So, I’m thorough. Ensuring that my foundation is good.

 

It is extremely fair to point out, that though I love crafting, I’m honestly not particularly artistic. At all. Juvenile at best. On a really good day. So I go for something that will have an overall good effect. Swirling curly-cues, symmetric details and a fair bit of fluffing it as I’m going along. Look, it doesn’t really mind if anyone else likes them. Cause I do. And it makes me happy. Not just the final product, which I invariably love cause it’s to my tastes. But because I love the process of it all. Even just unpacking my Easter eggs from previous years brings me joy. And I so love looking at them.

 

Apart from the odd egg shell that breaks from wear and tear and the difficulty in storing them without them becoming damaged or cracked, I still have most of my painted eggs. Every year, my need for storage becomes bigger and more complicated. Cause how do you really ensure that they don’t break? Eggshells are fragile things at the best of times. Without the benefit of the gooey goodness inside the eggshell, it’s even more prone to cracks and breakage. Let’s just say it’s complicated.

 

And through my collection of the creations of past years, it’s been wonderful to see how every year has a colour scheme or pattern of choice. I display my eggs proudly throughout my house on as many available surfaces as possible. All in the hopes that my cats won’t destroy them. So far, so good. But I don’t want to jinx it too much. I display them in glass bowls and vases, sorting colours and themes together and love the overall effect. Such a fun thing to do.

 

So this year, my colours are red (beeeeeeg surprise), white and black. And I’m loving it. So awesome and I’m loving the end results.

 

Found it quite funny that I’ve had quite a few friends sending me messages or commenting, saying that Easter does not feel complete without seeing my egg collection posted on Facebook. So hurry up already. Most flattering and sweet.

 

Alas, I’ve promised my Grantie that I’ll finish up this weekend. And pack it all away again. Mostly I suspect he’s just tired of scrambled eggs. Can’t blame him really, I’m also feeling as though I’ve peaked on my egg consumption. Because of his heart, we watch his egg intake in general and usually stick to 2 eggs a week. But we might have relaxed those restrictions a little bit over Easter. Not too hectic. The kids helped with the eating of eggs too. But I think we’re all tapped out. In addition, we finished the last marshmallow Easter eggs a few days ago. So it really is time to move on.

 

So I give to you, Easter 2024. Enjoy! Yes, I know I’m mad. Grant reminds me often enough.

 

Actually, on second thought. It wouldn’t be fair to pack everything up straight away. Cause the newly painted eggs have not yet had their chance to shine in the spotlight. To enjoy being displayed. So perhaps I’ll stretch it out for just a little bit longer. But will refrain from tackling anymore. Restraint, is a very, very hard thing to do. But I’ll give it my best shot.

 

Anyone for scrambled eggs?

 

Gonk Lovin'

 

Gonk Lovin'

11 March 2024

Obsessive compulsive much?

 

So here’s the deal. When I do something, I. Am. All. In.

 

It is my superpower. But it can also be my kryptonite. It’s all about perspective. However, I’m a glass half full kinda gal, so I choose to see it as a positive. Cause why wouldn’t you, right?

 

My life is liberally sprinkled with many obsessive projects and interests throughout the years. And I’ve loved every single one. Or I would not be indulging in them in the first place. Makes sense.

 

So, what is my current flavour? Well, funny you should ask. You did ask, right?

 

Gonks!

 

Gonks, I tell you!

 

Gonks, and I absolutely LOVE them!

 

What, you don’t know what Gonks are? Can’t blame you. I didn’t know either.

 

However what I did know and have known for many years is that one of my obsessions is, was and will always be Xmas. The most magical time of the year. I can wax lyrical about Xmas decorations. It can become a problem, depending on how you look at things. My Grantie has a lot to say on the topic, especially when it comes to carting all of my Xmas decoration boxes out of their various hiding spaces at the end of the year, when I go into Xmas décor mode. As well as at the end of the festive season, when he is roped in once more to help take the boxes back again. In fact, all things Xmas makes my beating heart go a flutter with excitement!

 

Now when it comes to Xmas decorations, I love the old school type of thing. No bling or glitter. No big baubles and shiny tinsel either. Nothing wrong with it if that’s your thing. It just so happens to not be my thing. You do you and all of that.

 

And in my quest for old school decorations, I’ve always been besotted with the little Norwegian decorations. Kinda chunky gnome type Father Xmas characters with big beards, wooden bobble noses, round bellies and delightfully cheery hats sporting a bell. I’ve admired them often in shops and online, but they’re quite pricey. Which is a bummer. For the longest time, I’ve thought that I could probably try my hand at making them. And at the end of last year, I finally went for it. I even discovered what they’re actually called. Gonks. Even the name is cute!

 

Played around for a while with a basic “pattern” of sorts. Which basically meant cutting out paper beards and hat designs. Then tracing that onto scrap material and making a “prototype” (sounds so fancy). Thought it worked quite well. And from there it was easy. A little bit of felt, I had ample cotton, knew where to buy some bells and wooden bobbles as well as the few odds and ends I didn’t have. And I even had a bit of leftover teddybear stuffing from something I did a few years ago. Used my paper “molds” so to speak – then it’s trace, cut, sew by hand, stuff and there you go!

 

And thus, a new obsession is born. And I couldn’t be happier. Look, it’s cheaper than therapy. So there’s that.

 

I can concentrate for long periods of time and can focus. But I also dislike being idle on the one hand. Grant and I enjoy watching a series at night, but I can’t only do that. If I don’t do something else at the same time, I’m prone to resorting to fiddling with my phone. Alternatively, I do a big challenging puzzle over a period of time or play multiple rounds of double pack patience. My favourite has always been crafting. Cause here’s the thing. If I don’t do something with my hands and still mildly engage my mind, I will quite simply nod off. As in can’t keep my eyes open. Terribly dreary.

 

So, I’ve been making gonks by the gazillion. First I made a few for myself. Then I thought of gifts for family and friends, albeit that it would have to be for next Xmas, cause I clearly missed last Xmas. And then I simply didn’t want to stop. It’s such fun. And I would clearly run out of family and friends to gift them to, so I’d have to eventually find an offset point for them. If not, I’ll simply have to resort to gifting them. To everybody and anybody I can think of. Look, if Xmas is not really your thing, then that’s not my problem.

 

So ideally, I’d like to flog some towards the end of the year. I’m thinking Xmas markets and the like. Maybe a few shops that sell that kind of a thing. Or even selling them on my social media. Who can tell. Maybe nobody else likes them. What makes this wonderful world of ours so fabulous, is the fact that everyone is unique and has their own taste as well as personal likes and dislikes. For now, I’m simply loving the creative process. Finding it extremely rewarding and so fulfilling. Yes, I’m a thrill a minute. I know. You don’t have to tell me.

 

I’m running out of containers to store them in, so might have to make a plan with that. It’s a lengthy labour intensive hobby and takes quite a while from start and finish. But I am so thoroughly enjoying it. Also, thought that I might make a few Gonks with dark green hats. And then maybe some neutral type grey ones too.

 

And there I go again. Mind spinning with new possibilities. Note to self – get more boxes to store them in.

 

Gonks. Completely and utterly adorable. At least to me!

 

 

Grey's Anatomy

Grey's Anatomy
19 May 2015

(I wrote this blog nearly a year ago, and somehow never managed to finish it off and publish it.  So here it goes.  A bit late.  Still brought a smile to my lips when I read it though.  Thought you might just feel the same.)

So I’ve been doing some commissioned hand sewing work for a friend of mine.  The most magnificent goodies.  And much as I’d love to share pics, I simply can’t.  We’ve got markets starting this week, pretty much running straight through until Christmas, and for now, we’d like to keep the products under wraps. 

Anyway, I do most of the sewing at night.  Sitting in front of the TV after supper, while my family is all around me.  And then, once the kids go off to bed, Grant and I tend to watch a mini-series together, before he heads off to bed.  And that’s when I come out to play.

My house is all quiet.  Nobody demanding my time.  My attention.  No one is hungry.  Needs help with their homework.  Needs me to quiz them for a test.  Help them with an oral or a school project.  Or drop them off somewhere.

I have some creative time.  It is pain staking, detailed work.  But it is beautiful.  And super rewarding.  At the end of every evening, I can look back and see the evidence of my night’s work. 

But here’s the thing.  I enjoy some company whilst working.  Undemanding company.

And it is at this exact point, that I invite the Surgical Interns doing their fellowship at Seattle Grace Hospital, to enter my lounge.  But I’m not really all that classist.  I’m quite happy to invite the Attending’s, as well as the Chief himself too.  All in the interest of increasing my medical knowledge of course …

And let me be straight with you – I’ve been doing A LOT OF SEWING and late night work.  Which means that I’m quite happily whizzing my way through the whole Grey’s Anatomy series for about the 3^rd time.  The joy in “watching” something like this so many times is multiple.  Firstly, I know it already.  So I can but merely listen.  I don’t need to make eye contact with them.  And they seem to be quite happy with my divided attention.  They’re remarkably undemanding.  Secondly, there are no nasty surprises.  I mostly know who’s going to be offed.  Who’s going to pull through.  And who’s going to become romantically involved with whom.  Thirdly, I can verbally talk along in some cases, as I know the lines.  This is rather scary, as I’ve clearly done A LOT of time, doing Grey’s.  Fourthly, I really love the characters.  Some more than others.  Dr McDreamy is dreamy indeed.  It is rather nasty I know, but occasionally I plot on how I’m going to fly over to Seattle, knock off Meredith Grey, and nab him all for myself.

However, this does present a rather tricky problem.  These doctors are rather good.  And given the fact that I’ve watched 8 seasons already (I know – I’m a few behind, but I’m savouring them before indulging and watching), they’ve covered a lot of medical ground.  Loads of extreme cases, covering just about every medical emergency, mystery and illness known to man.  In fact, some might probably not be known, anywhere apart from at Seattle Grace.  The bottom line, is that this means, that these good docs have a fair amount of experience, with dealing with things out of the ordinary.  I’d really have to work hard at making it look like an accident, in case they bust me.  And in addition, I’d have to make sure it’s damn near incurable.  In case they save her in the end.

Anyway, I’m getting distracted.  The thing is this, I’m pretty sure I’d make a rather awesome surgeon round about now.  I could intubate and resuscitate with the best of them.  But the trick is this – in what area should I specialise?  Should I go with Cardiothoracics, Orthopaedics, Neuro, Paediatrics or something else that ends in an “ics”?  That is the question.

I find myself randomly wanting to say phrases like, “Push three of Epi”.  Or, “Run a central line”.   Even though there is no cause whatsoever for saying any of this.  Nor the need to perform one of these procedures either.  At an ignorant and idiotic driver in rush-hour traffic, I’d like to say, “Do you want me to give you a subdural bleed with a midline shift?”  Or, “Don’t make me get out of my car, it is sure to cause Ventricular Arrhythmia”.  So many, many choices.  And I haven’t even touched on a Pulmonary Embolus yet.  Nor a Dissected Thoracic Aorta.  And don’t even get me started on the marvels of plastics.  I could happily rearrange a face or two… 

I’m basically convinced, that if I put my mind to it, and put my sewing down for long enough, to give the study of medicine my undivided attention, I’d be a sure fire candidate for the Harper Avery Award.  The one that only exists on TV that is.  In Grey’s Anatomy Land.  But alas, sewing beckons.  It’s fun.  It’s creative.  And there’s far less blood.  Which actually suits me best.

Which doesn’t mean that I can’t indulge my Grey’s side, every so often.  Particularly with my children.

Cause in the afternoons, when I do my rounds, going from bedroom to bedroom, with my clipboard clasped against my chest, ticking off what homework they’ve done, and must still do, I can threaten them with obscure medical procedures.  Some of them even sounding vaguely plausible…

 

And then when they take a long time to do something, or follow an instruction, I have to physically restrain myself from barking, “STAT!!!”, at them.  (Such fun – particularly when they flinch!) 

 

Please click and LIKE on Facebook - Thanx!

 

 

Denny Duquette - Oh. My. Word.

McDreamy - enough to put anyone into cardiac arrest

 

I rest my case

 

Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!

 

Seriously?!?!?

The Tin Man's Eggs

The Tin Man's Eggs
31 March 2013

Aaahhh, Easter!  A time for family, chocolate, good food, relaxing, the first bit of rain, painting of hollowed out eggs, family vegging sessions on the couch watching movies or a good mini-series, the mystery of the Easter Bunny, flour and baby powder footprints right through the house and the garden, ponderings about why a rabbit delivers eggs and where the whole bunny thing comes in at all (the egg bit I get - it represents new life, I think), The Giant Egg hunt, feeling sickly sweet from chocolate, great excitement all around, schloefing around at least one whole day in PJ's, drinking hot chocolate (like we need any more chocolate), letters written and pictures drawn for the Easter Bunny, etc.  Basically, family nirvana.

I bravely ventured a trip to the shops the day before Easter.  How daft!  Because braveness or not, Easter eggs don't buy themselves.  And I hadn’t really gotten my act together yet.  What a surprise.  Not.  And so I needed to stock up on some loot.  The eggs were literally flying off the shelves.  Shop staff were busy unpacking them from boxes and customers were loading them up into trolleys immediately.  Some even delving straight into the boxes.  Queuing for eggs in fact.

I always go slightly moggie over Easter myself.  But then again, I go moggie over Christmas too.  Every year, the kids and I have a ball painting hollowed out eggs.  We spend ages before Easter stocking up on eggs, by eating omelettes, waffles, pancakes, flapjacks, etc.  In fact any egg dish requiring eggs to not be whole.  You simply make little holes on either end of the egg, and blow the inside out with all your might.  I never seem to make the holes big enough and always seem to suffer from a bout of severe dizziness including visions of floating stars from blowing so hard.  The painting is such fun. I've got loads of paint and more than enough brushes.  Every year we try a few techniques.  We do stripes and patterns.  Scribbles with special pens after the painting's been done.  Dotting stickers all over, painting over the whole egg, pulling the stickers off and leaving perfect patterns.  And over the years, my egg stash has grown.  It is lovely to see how the children have grown in proficiency and artistic skill as they've gotten older.  Still their early smudged and splotchy works are some of my best.  We decorate the whole house with baskets of painted eggies, little chickies, and bunny goodies.  Our decorating loot ever increasing.  Predictably at age fifteen, Luke has unsubscribed to it all and simply wants us to stop fussing and hand over the eggs.  Still he does actually understand that he had his turn in believing in the Easter Bunny and doing it all.  And now it is the turn of Cole.  And though Amber doesn't believe in the Easter Bunny anymore, she fully subscribes to all that goes along with it.  She simply laps it all up and helps to keep the mystery alive for Cole.

Yet, apart from all of the above, one other story simply always springs to mind when I think of Easter.  A very, very good friend of mine, was still in her pre-kid-years with her husband.  In fact, I think her husband was then still only her boyfriend.  And judging by the story, I don't think they had been together for very long.  Because if they had been, he surely would have understood the need for him to spoil her on Easter with lots of chocolate bounty.  Especially of the Lindt variety me-thinks.  Clearly, my friend had spoiled him.  Knowing her, most handsomely too.  And I would imagine that her surprise was rather huge, when the chocolatey goodness was not reciprocated.  From the sounds of things, they had a bit of words about his insensitive lack of spoiling.  And then, in order to gain some distance from him and to soothe her hurt feelings, she decided to go for a long leisurely bath.  Girls do that.

Now said husband/boyfriend was not a stupid guy.  He realised he was in the proverbial dog box.  And he needed to get out of there fast.  But how does one do this on Easter Sunday, once you've already messed up?  He couldn't just dash off to the shops and get her a treat.  By this stage, all the best goodies were gone in any rate.

But being a man, he relied on his baser instincts and thought of an ingenuous plan.  One that would have guaranteed results.  But his plan would have to be so good, it would have to a) dig him out of the hole he was in, b) add a bit of humour, as humour goes a long way, c) slightly humiliate himself, as that would show true remorse, and d) hopefully aid him in getting lucky on Easter Sunday.  He was going for broke.

Which explains perfectly, why he waltzed into the bathroom whilst she was lying in the bath (wallowing in self-pity), to proudly display to her "his eggs" wrapped in tinfoil.

I do believe that it was an unmitigated success and that it met all of the abovementioned requirements.

Though to aid in the humiliation part, said friend shared the story with all of us.  Much to our mirth and his horror.

And so, till today, we often refer to him as Tin Man.  We even went to so far as to print him a Tin Man t-shirt for his birthday one year.

Which serves to illustrate one point with perfect clarity.  Not only does hell have no fury like a woman scorned.  It also has no fury like a woman who has been deprived of chocolate.

True story.  You have been warned.

Some of our painted egg loot

 

 

And more

Still more

 

Even random candle holders are not left unscathed

Kamers-Vol-What's-The-Point

Kamers-Vol-What's-The-Point
23 October 2012

I just luuurve markets.  No, not, fruit and veg type markets.  You know – crafty markets.  Markets filled to the brim with pretty stuff. 

I get all excited and fall in love with a gazillion things I simply have to, have to, HAVE to have.  Not that I ever get them.  Unless they’re rip roaring bargains of course – and of the under R20 variety.  Okay, who am I kidding?  I do end up getting the odd trinket (budget style), but only if I have serious heart pangs and envision post-not-purchase-regret if I don’t get it.  I mean, what is a girl supposed to do???

And the pinnacle of all markets, simply has to be “Kamers Vol Geskenke”.  A true feast for the eye, with beauty and ingenuity all around.  The innovative ideas that people have, to continually create new, clever, quirky, interesting, gorgeous articles are truly impressive.  And quite often, a real gem for me, is something which has cost very little in terms of money.  An idea, born from creativity and magnificently realised.  Joyful!  And I salute all who participate and form a part of this magic.  You are the cream of the crop.  Really top notch.

So, I simply had to share the whole Kamers experience with Grant – my bestest friend.  He had the morning off today, in anticipation of a trip away, so I booked him in advance saying we’ve got to do this.  “Baby, you’ll absolutely love it!  You won’t believe all the beautiful things.  The vibe.  The creativity, etc, etc, etc.”.  I do drone on a bit, I know.  And I had such high hopes that he would be equally spellbound.  But alas, it was not to be.

For me, it was a case of Kamers Vol Gekenke/Possibilities/Clever ideas/Magnificent ideas/Beauty/Creativity/Inspiration/and so my list goes on.  For my beloved Grantie, it was a case of Kamers-Vol-What’s-The-Point.  He was utterly miserable the entire time we were there.  And shame, he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it.  We wondered around aimlessly with me oohing and aahing, and Grant unsuccessfully feigning non-existent interest.  After about 10 minutes, he eventually went and stood outside, waiting for me to finish up in the one hall, so that we could simply move on to another hall (torture chamber in Grant’s case).

After about 15 minutes of saying “lovely” to pacify me, we called it a day.  Not even the promise of liquid refreshment held any allure.  Or swaying power for that matter.  He just didn’t get the point.  And says that he couldn’t figure out what half of the “lovely” things on sale even were.

And jeez, I can’t blame him.  It is hardly a “man’s domain” after all.  And most certainly not my man’s.  Now I know that sounds sexist, but you know what I mean.  In hindsight, I can’t believe how incredibly dof I was to even suggest a trip to Kamers to him.  What was I thinking?  Well, clearly I wasn’t.  I’m writing it down, to the fact that I was blinded by lust for all that glitters at Kamers.  It is however a treasure best shared with a fellow craft nutter/lover of beautiful things – be that man or woman. 

And I suppose that I could equate my love for things of this nature, to Grant’s love of things of a vehicular nature.  The thought of having to accompany him to a car show, ambling about, and being dragged around endlessly “admiring” cars, fills me with zero enthusiasm.  It’s all gibberish to me and I don’t speak car at all.  It’s all torque, over steer, engine size, under steer, blah, blah, blah.  Nothing personal against my man, or cars and his love for them.  They just don’t fill me with enthusiasm.  And hey, don’t forget – I love Top Gear.

So, I’m thinking, that perhaps a bit later in the week, when Grant is away on his trip, I might venture to Kamers again.  This time to do a solitary and completely self-indulgent walk about.  An excursion with me, myself and I.  Setting my own pace.  Soaking it all up and taking it all in. 

On second thought, perhaps I should invite my Dad along.  You know my Dad.  The one that passed away over 13 years ago.  He’s sure to buy me a little something (so, technically it's actually me).  I’ve told you how generous he is (once again me).  Nah!  Maybe I'm pushing it a bit.  Especially seeing as I already had a little walk about on Sunday evening at the opening night, when Albert played (I was his +1).  And my Dad (yip, me again) did buy me a little necklace (R20) and three darling little perspex angels (R45 in total).  Such a sweetie.  I would hate to appear to be taking advantage.  And lest we forget - it is nearly Xmas.  He needs to save his cash for then.

 

 

 

 

Harty Farty

Harty Farty
24 September 2012

Oh my friggin hat!  What have I gotten myself into???

I absolutely LOVE making stuff.  I’ve always got a project I’m busy working on.  So this year, after being urged by a few friends and my family, I decided to take the plunge and take the crafting to the next level.  How?  I had the “bright” idea, that I would attempt to do some of the Xmas markets and try and sell my wares.  And thus “Harty Farty” was born – I have a positive thing for hearts.  No, I couldn’t do a normal, conventional name.  It had to be quirky and unusual, otherwise I would have been bored stiff instantly.  My special friend, Gill, designed a logo for me.  I had a little bird charm on a necklace, and wanted to use that, and Gillie made it happen for me.  She’s a really clever gal!

I “developed” nine goodies in “my range”.  All very diverse.  I got most of my ideas by stealing with my eyes and doing a fair bit of copying of other ideas and then tweaking them to the way that I like.  I am extremely unoriginal and am simply not clever enough to have my own unique idea after all.  I also got some awesome ideas off Pinterest (worst website in the entire world – it is just way too addictive).  And truth be told, lots of the stuff I had been doing in any rate, giving them to friends and family for birthdays and Christmas.  It all made perfect sense.

So, I applied for a few markets and much to my delight, I got into two of them.  I had really hoped to get into “Kamers vol geskenke”, but it was not to be.  And in hindsight, I’m just sooo grateful.  I believe those ladies run a very tight ship and are extremely demanding and fastidious.  I suspect they would have crushed my fragile ego.

I have been burning the midnight oil like mad.  And between my normal running around, kids, my home, family, crafting and the blog, I’ve been stretched quite thin for quite a while.  Days are busy, hectically so, so at night time, when my family are sleeping, I craft.  It can be rather solitary though, and I do like a bit of company.  So while I craft in my lounge, I listen to either old Grey’s Anatomy DVD’s or old Brothers and Sister’s DVD’s.  I don’t watch, but as I’ve seen all of these before, the listening along thing is mighty fine.  I know all the best bits in any rate.  I go to bed at about 1h00 in the morning, and the new day starts again at about 6h00.  I’ve always been a night owl and can go with very little sleep.  This does not mean that I don’t enjoy sleep, because I do.  Very much so.  Now I’m not having a pity party here, I’m merely setting the scene.  It’s been busy.

But I met my first big deadline, which was a biggie for me.  This afternoon, I went and dropped off all of my goodies for my first market, called the CY Market in Durbanville.  They accepted three of my items, and so I’ve been making Peg Fridge Magnets, Gr8 Jewellery Stands as well as Mosaic Stones (they’re doorstops).  It was quite an undertaking, and I have an extreme case of OCD, so everything had to be just so and absolutely perfect.  I cannot describe the huge feeling of accomplishment though.  Just feeling so chuffed and happy with what I’ve achieved.  Even in just completing the task I set out for myself .  And I have told Grant sternly that I’m going to lay off the crafting for at least a week now, until I start tackling things again for my next market.  But I lied – I’ve already done a wee bit of sewing today.  If I have to say so myself, I make the MOST gorgeous brooches.  Well, I think they’re gorgeous.  Which is rather important, because I would simply hate doing something that I wasn’t absolutely in love with myself.  In fact, it just wouldn’t work for me.

So what have I got to show for myself up to this point?  Well, I have boxes and boxes of little things that I am using for all of my various projects.  Every single variety of glue on the market, spray paints, graters, magnets, loads and loads and loads of pretty ribbons, mosaic stones, grouting, old cutlery, broken bits of crockery, pieces of wood, paint swatches, old medicine bottles, cotton thread in every colour imaginable, my very own little guillotine (best buy ever!), paint, felt, buttons, clasps, packaging baggies in various sizes, needles, double sided tape, old banged up books, old keys, sheets and sheets and sheets of coloured paper and board, numerous pairs of scissors, Harty Farty logo stickers, wooden washing pegs, punches, hooks, screws, string, fishing line, etc., etc., etc.  And so the list goes on.  As well as nicks and scrapes on my hands.  A sore back from hunching over.  And excessive sense of achievement, which is worth more than money alone.  Why?  Because I did it.  I don’t think I’ll be extremely successful financially, which is not really the point.  There is just so many beautiful things out there and creative people putting them together.  So I don’t think I’ll make much money, which would have been lovely.  But I’ll have loads and loads of fun in the process. 

And just to give you an idea - to spice things up a bit and keep me on my toes, I also have a huge, enormous, cavernous, Kimberley-sized hole in my head.  Because every year, I hand make about 100 Christmas cards.  I know – what an absolute idiot!!!  Grant just mumbles a lot and shakes his head.  He doesn’t get it at all.  And who can blame him.  I’m not entirely sure that I get it either.  It’s expensive and time consuming, yet I love it and every year I do it again.  Sorry, let me rephrase that - I’m a stupid, blithering, idiotic idiot!

So stand by folks, for a few pics of my goodies for the CY Market.  Do have a squiz and should the urge grab you, head off to the Market and be sure to look out for Harty Farty.  And perhaps, just perhaps, if I’m very, very, very lucky, in about three week’s time, I’ll get a little deposit into my banking account.  Which will be just as well, as I’ll have to settle the outstanding costs on my first market, not accounting for what I need to buy for the next one.

And do you know what?  Just guess who got into the “Kamers vol geskenke” market?  Would you believe it, but my bloody brother!  You know, the boy in my family, who doesn’t even appreciate it!  Or care for that matter.  Well, I suppose he will appreciate the money they pay into his account for performing for them, but still.  Ain’t that just typical!!!  I keep on having a giggle when I think about it.  My brother, at “Kamers vol geskenke”!  Too funny for words.  I’m hoping I can perhaps be his “plus one” when he goes and performs at the opening.  That way I’ll be able to have a sneak peak at the competition, so that I can plan what crafts to do next…

 

Some of my doorstop stones

 

 

All of the stones are from Kleinbaai

I needed to make 60 in total for the first market - a mammoth task

 

 

Gr8 Jewellery Stands - to hook your earrings on

 

 

My little table at the market with my Peg Fridge Magnets and Mosaic Stones - spot some of my bunting made from paint swatches - clever, hey!

 

 

A bit more up close. I absolutely love the stand I made from an old kitchen cupboard shutter style door.

 

 

Gr8 Jewellery Stands and some more pegs