I should have learned by now to take “Before” photos – you’ll just have to take my word for it that this was a XXXL Men’s shirt from Lowes (Australia: “At Lowes!”) that the dog and I could have camped under.  It was a great red,  longsleeved, summer-fun light and no ironing required - my favorite.

First I cut the sides in (according to an old favourite and slightly more stretchy shirt – mistake) and the arms off at the shoulders.  Then I sewed 1 inch seams.  Then I unpicked them and sewed 1cm seams…which unfortunately are still a little snug around the old bike tyre.  Oh well, I just casually unbutton the last two buttons – it’s still long enough not to give an unattractive midriff reveal!

I shortened the sleeves twice…and to be honest, I’d still prefer them to be shorter again.  Gathered the shoulders a little before putting them back into the sleeves (one unpick only) and finally decided to just sew some elastic (one inch shorter than my arm cicumference) into the sleeve hems for that puffy look.  I figured I’d keep it deconstructed and just zigzag all the hems. 

And the black pants were my black jeans cut into long shorts – getting rid of the bleach splash that run up from my ankles, yay!

I call it “Bobby Sue goes Blackberrying”
 
After two months of my pledge my drawers are fairly bursting, which I did not expect!  I have a better sense of what suits me and what I like.  I also troll through shops and markets and think: I could make that.  I’m going to try and keep this up for Life but will be lapsing from the Wardrobe Refashion site for a bit so I can refocus computer time on NaNoWriMo. Hahahaha.   Yeah, we’ll see.

“Before”

This is a Liz Claiborne top, op-shopped from the bargain rack for $4 (is it just me, or have other Australians noticed that Vinnie’s and Salvo’s prices have suddenly gone UP?  It’s because it’s so fashionable, I’m sure!), while the knit fabric is good quality, diappointingly the shape was boxy and wrong and it was consigned to a pyjama top.  But after poring over this inspiring post at My Mama Made It I decided to take to it with scissors.

I’m so glad I did.

I used a favorite t-shirt to figure out how far to cut the sides in, took the sleeve length to midway between elbow and shoulder, took the pocket off, and swirled strips into a ‘rose’ to cover the studs from the pocket.  And because it’s a t-shirt, there is no hemming required.  None.  Fantastic for the lazy sewer, like me.

“After”

I like it alot!

Here it is with my new stash busted skirt (the best of two skirts I’ve ever made, the original pattern made it a weird bell shape, in my frustration it was nearly binned but saved by a second pattern) and my flower pots (what the…?).  I feel so French in this outfit…it could be the headless thing.

When she was first born, she looked like a grumpy old lady who had been woken very rudely, but was willing to forgive me, if I would just turn the light out and cuddle her back to sleep.

She used to climb into the chook house, to the complete dismay of its occupants, to share the brekkie scraps that had been thrown in there.

She got her first beesting in the week that she learned to walk.   She stepped solidly on the bee, it stung her, and the next step she took (still taking that massive breath that preceeds ear-splitting toddler howls) she stood on another bee, and it stung her too.

She once ran into a shopping centre elevator 5 seconds ahead of me, and two seconds before the doors closed.  It took 20 minutes to figure out which floor she’d gotten off.

The only way you could tell she’d found a slug in the strawberries she grazed on in the backyard, was by the shudder, and the cockeyed grimace she gave before she swallowed it.

She knew the difference between parsley and any other green thing in the backyard by the time she was three.

She has never needed very much sleep to function energetically, full-bore throughout the day.

She’s good at everything she does, which leaves us scratching our heads and wondering how on earth they swapped her in the hospital without us knowing.

She hates having to choose in the lolly aisle.  If she was allowed to, she would take an hour.  And one of everything.

She turns nine tomorrow.

She’s my baby, and I’ll cry if I want to.

Foxes are tenacious animals.  They will check their territory, and the prey within it, daily if possible.  If a chook pen (or a duck pen) is within their territory they will check it out for any weaknesses, for any way possible to get in probably everytime they are able to get near.  They don’t give up.  Now that we longer have any alpacas guarding the place, and only a Jack Russell who prefers to sleep in the laundry, we’ve had a number of fox attacks.  Everytime, we try to figure out how it happens and we fix it: once the gate was left open a wee bit, once the trampoline had been moved too close to the walls of the run, and once (and only once) we forgot to lock the birds in their shed. 

Once on a Sunday morning I walked out to the chook-run I noticed the gate had banged itself open only a wee bit in the windy night and the shed was still closed, but there were feathers everywhere.  My heart sank.  Before I opened the shed I walked around it, and found about 4 different attempts to dig under…all thwarted by an iron tent peg, a brick or stone.  But there was one gap about 6 inches long that missed a peg, between two bricks…and that is where they had dug in and dragged out every chicken I had except for a badly shocked Orpington.  Dragging her out would have been like trying to get your head into a sock!

At the time I was home alone, and I felt broken and weary.  I checked forums and read about the same pain felt by other poultry owners, the same hatred of foxes.  Pretty animals that they are, I am not saddened to see them squashed on the road because their ability to randomly infiltrate and destroy.  And it’s not like they are limited to the rural areas either (or four legs for that matter: I seem to have two legged foxes doing what they can to bring me undone in insidious ways also)…I recall a night in the city when a chooky screech got me up and outside still asleep, only to see a fox scale an 8 foot fence with absolute ease and grace.  He had killed every single hen I had, and then he returned the next night and tried to get the cat and the rabbit!

Reading those forums, I had some comfort that UK poultry owners had exactly the same feelings I was having, but in the UK foxes are protected animals.  Over there foxes are as likely to strike during the day, and are unafraid and cunning enough to attack even with people about.  Many people as a result have electric fencing around their backyard birds…the kids get used to it after a while.

So, I have bought concrete blocks and filled the floor of the shed in, I am buying a better latch for the gate, and I will be netting the roof of the run…somehow.  It’s all I can do, but I won’t give up.  What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger…and hopefully smarter.

23/10/09

It’s three and a half weeks later, I just went to let the chooks out and found that foxes AGAIN have attempted to dig under…there were 5 different attempts that I could find…the biggest hole was in the same spot as the one last time that they’d dragged the chooks out of.  They had even managed to dig a brick out!  Happy to report, the concrete block floor did its job, and all five hens were safe and hungry!  The blocks didn’t even move, or fall in!  A success!  Now to figure out how the blighters are getting into the run…I’m thinking netting the top of the run will be this weekend’s job.

But just to point out: foxes never tried to dig under in the four years we’ve been here…and then did it with great success three weeks ago…now they’ve tried it a second time, so now I need to expect that digging will always be a part of their M.O.

1.  The friendly, friendly people like New York Police Officer Ray and his Good Horse.  Hey Ray!  Seriously, these people are a credit to New York.  Hey Avi & Maudrey, Marty and family, and the countless…I mean COUNTLESS people who were only too happy to help us, point us in the right direction, show us subway shortcuts or have a chat.

2. New York is so atmospheric, no matter the weather.  It actually rained almost the entire time we were there in very early Spring and it didn’t matter at all…it just lent itself to that intangible New Yorkness.  You know?  It is a word.

3.  Tiffany’s.  I. Had. No. Idea.
I am not a jewellery person, so Tiffany’s – Meh.  Or so I thought!  We wandered into Tiffany’s about 5 seconds before a 2 day deluge started (see #2) and there we were…wafting around in our damp, well worn travelling clothes, looking in glass cases at beautiful, shiny things with golden glowing lighting all around us, soft jazz playing, and the silver rain teeming outside the enormous picture windows.  Everyone was smiling and spoke in hushed tones….except my sister who was saying “Could I look at that please, Paul?  Ooh and that?  And, OH, do you have that in silver? Oh, Paul, Paul look!  Is that for a little girl?”  Boy, was she excited!  I actually found myself the most perfect ring ever: The Tiffany’s Nature Rose Ring, and I bought it for myself (unheard of) for my 40th Birthday (which is in December).   Thankyou, Maggie and Paul…you were wonderful and made our experience just that much more special with your humor and patience.

4.  I really like your yellow things.  Your yellow things are almost orange: the school buses, the cabs, the cheese.  It’s a happy color, against the muted urban landscape.  And in cheese, it’s just yummy.

5.  When we were at Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market, I overheard a guy answering his phone.  He said: “Hey, Morty!  How the Hell are ya?!”  This was one of my favourite things for so many reasons: flea market (briefly, not raining), hearing a line spoken in an accent that I thought was too good to be true.  The whole conversation was fascinating, and the guy didn’t even seem to mind that I was following him around, giggling the whole time.

6.  Bryant Park on a sunny day, with no rain (Duh), with a Baguette, a juice, and a bag of fabric to rest my head on.  Life doesn’t get much better than that.
 Can’t you tell?

And the funny thing is: we found Bryant Park, stumbling on it accidentally about 25 minutes after leaving our hotel room, but it ended up being only 5 minutes away!  You know, the thing with New York is that you cantake a different parallel street from the one you normally take and discover a whole world you didn’t know existed.  I love that.  Luckily we found Bryant Park on this day, because we didn’t have another dry day until the hour we got in our cab to go to the airport.  It was meant to be.

 Sigh!

7.  The Garage Flea Market, where a lady asked me if I’d like to buy one of her Homemade Brownies before I fell over.  I think we forgot to have breakfast ( I know, WHOA, what happened?…In fact I think we slept in and missed our free Brekky and thought we could do without.  HA!)  That delicous Brownie saved my life.  Best Brownie ever!

8. Johnny’s Diner, next door.  It was maybe 2 metres wide, with half a dozen stools lined up to the counter, and the cook seemed to know what you wanted by looking at you.  I had an Egg and Bacon Roll and juice.  It was quick and it was good and hot.  I felt well looked after.  It was also surreal, like we’d walked onto a movie set, with the rain outside, and everyone at the counter intent on the meal in front of them. 

9. Becoming familiar: our hotel peeps, our favourite Deli, so many people saw our faces amongst the thousands of faces, and so many of them smiled and waved if they saw us again.  Hey, There’s Ray!  Hey, Ray!  Hey, Good Horse!

10.  Travelling with my sister…for obvious reasons.

 Sharing outrageous meals and Pomegranete Margaritas…

 Making me laugh in photographs (for a change)…

 And for being an idiot with me in Museums, for posterity and the amusement of German tourists.  Way too much fun!

Because its Friday, and everyone needs to cry with laughter on a Friday.  It makes the week that’s been all better.

It’s business time.

That’s right.  After 5 days in San Francisco, where I left my book and my heart, we took the Red-Eye to New York.  You will not find the Red-Eye flight on my list of favourite things.  It was not one of my favourite things at all.

1.  Even though we couldn’t get into our room until 1.30pm (and it was 9.30am when we arrived all crumply and red-eyed) we were able to make use of the Breakfast Room, and eat our daily free breakfast.  That was one of my favourite ways to start the day anywhere, but particularly after…oh, I’ve mentioned it already?  Sorry.  Our Room at the Comfort Inn Midtown, was a wonderful haven during our travels.  The staff were great (Hey, Sidibi!) the bed was huge and comfy, and the pigeon spikes were fascinating!

2.  New York is so very Sesame Street!  I was brought up on Sesame Street and I kept seeing little vignettes that took me right back to Mr Hoopers store or the side of the building where Big Bird lived.

3.  Squirrels!  They’re so cute in a fuzzy ADHD way.  You guys in the US, must just roll your eyes when Australian travellers run after your local rodents with our cameras; I guess we are a little like that about kangaroos.

 Lookout Em, he’s gonna get ya!

4.  Pizza, as pointed out to us by the locals.  I’m sure that man didn’t mind being accosted on his way back to his apartment with his pizza under his arm, but it just smelt too good and let me tell you, Famiglia Pizza was just about the best pizza I ever had.  Who knew Spinach and Cheese Pizza could be all that and more?  I can’t even put the photo of me eating it here because I was so intent on stuffing it into my gob, the image would put you off your next meal.

5.  Free Rugelah samples at Dean & DeLuca…someone please give me a recipe for Rugelah?  Please?

6.  The Garment District….catch me I’m fainting!  You mean there are streets of hole-in-the-wall shops that sell fabric at less than half the price I pay at home?  Heaven, right?

7.  After dropping off the mountain of fabric I dragged back to the hotel, we took a circuitous walk past the Chrysler building and Grand Central station: part of the thrill of these great places was that we were hurrying everywhere amongst people who had to BE somewhere, like work.  We didn’t have to be anywhere.  It was fantastic.

 Em loved Grand Central Station.  She took some great photos, which you will not see here.  I take photos with my phone.  Talk to my husband about it.

8.  The New York Public Library snuck up on us.  I was about to cross the road when I saw a lion.

 And then I started to cry.

  Patience & Fortitude.

I loved the Library.  And even though it was 5 minutes to closing time, we went in and I searched for my book on one computer from each row of computers.  And I found it on everyone – once I did an International Search.  And I left that search on each computer…it was kind of like leaving my book in San Francisco.  It made me feel good.  New York, I love your Library.

9.  After an emotional day, we figured some sugar was in order to restore our…errr…sugar levels?  And coincidentally we came across Magnolia Bakery, where we accidentally stepped inside….and left with some Red Velvet Cupcakes.  Oh Dear.  We don’t have Red Velvet Cake in Australia and I always wondered what the big deal was.  Let’s just say, I get it OK?  Mmmmmmm.  Magnolia Bakery, you guys are goo-ood!

10.  Rain in New York.  New York is so atmospheric that rainy days are broody and mellow, sparkly and soft hued.  It made me feel all misty.

   I don’t think this looks like me at all, but it looks exactly the way I felt inside.

Oh, yeah, and there’s the Statue of Liberty.  I nearly missed her in the rain.

11.  New York with my sister.  Can you believe we didn’t throw things at each other the whole time?

 Hey Em, you’ve got a tiny photographer caught in your hair.

  The Pledge

I, Alyson Hill, pledge that I shall abstain from the purchase of “new” manufactured items of clothing, for the period of 2  months. I pledge that i shall refashion, renovate, recycle preloved items for myself with my own hands in fabric, yarn or other medium for the term of my contract. I pledge that I will share the love and post a photo of my refashioned, renovoted, recycled, crafted or created item of clothing on the Wardrobe Refashion blog, so that others may share the joy that thy thriftiness brings!

Signed_Alyson Hill

Yeah, 2 months is just to try and cut my teeth on this, but I’m very excited and enjoy the challenge it sets out.  I figured that Christmas could be tricky, what with the whirlwind of parties, parties, parties….ha!  Actually more likely because in Summer I wear my tshirts to shreds and go through the bum of my jeans around about post-Christmas.  But in actual fact, if I’m going well I may re-pledge then too.  The thing is I love op-shopping.  I love it more than Mall shopping (which makes me claustraphobic and nauseous).  I love the hunt and the imagination, rather than the sensory overload of the same design in a billionty different colors and ‘which one: the buttercup or the algae?’

In an opshop, I am a woman obsessed: it wont fit but the fabric is fab, I’ll turn it into a purse/bag/dress.

Like this sheet that I’ve turned into a dress for my sister’s birthday which is err…today…

I got the pattern from UK mag Sew Hip, but you can find Heather Ross’ pattern here temporarily.

 Her breasties are much more, errm voluptuous than mine, so it should look a treat.  Can you believe that is the only wall in my house that has a soupcon of space for a photo?  Sad, is what it is.  Great sheet though, isn’t it?  I love the whole ‘thinking outside the square’ of repurposing, and I have so many more sheets.  I’m calling this one ’70’s Summertime’.

You know it’s time to re-remember your exciting trip overseas when you bump into friends who had no idea you went.  My sister and I travelled to the United States of America in late April of this year.  It affected me profoundly.

Mostly because it was the first time I had ever spent so much time without my kids since I first got to know them.  All I had to think about was what I wanted to eat and when I wanted to eat it.  I still had to find public bathrooms at unexpected and random times but, hey, they were for MY needs not anyone elses dammit!

So, in no particular order, my favorite things I experienced whilst visiting San Francisco were:

1.  Airport security calling me ‘Miss’ and showing interest in me after an eleven hour flight, with a very precious 18 month old seated next to me.  Of course.

2.  Riding on the outside of the Mason/Powell Cable Car – even from between the knees of a German tourist who had mostly a view of my crotch until the Fisherman’s Wharf.

3.  Clam Chowder in a Bread Bowl mmmmmm.

4.  Real Margaritas.  Real BIG Margaritas.

5.  My sister enjoying said Chowder & Margaritas.

Isn’t she cute?  She should know better than to let me take photos of her.  That’s one of the reasons I love her.

6. Bristol Farms – how good is that place?  I love supermarket shopping in foreign countries.

7.  Fillmore: We found a secondhand clothes shop “Crossroads” and I was in heaven.  I love op-shopping in foreign countries.  Also, tiny hole-in-the-wall Sushi shop ‘Maruya Sushi’ where we were nourished with amazing spicy tuna rolls while we giggled at our incredible good fortune.  Then ‘Browser Books’ where I purchased M.F.K. Fisher’s ‘A Stew or a Story’ and where I secretly hid a copy of my own book ‘Chooks in the City’, so that I know I left my book in San Francisco.  It’s kind of like my heart.  Don’t judge me, I know I’m crazy.

8.  The Benefit Brow Bar in Macy’s: every girl traveller needs nice brows.  It’s true.

9.  Smoked Salmon, onion, salad and cream cheese on Rye at the Jewish Contemporary Museum.  Oh, you didn’t realise that this trip was all about food?  Really?  This sandwich was good, enjoyed in the sun outside the Museum and only one stop in a food laden day.

10.  Sitting on top of a ‘Hop on/Hop off’ double decker bus on a very chilly day to see the Golden Gate Bridge with a tourguide who looked like Keanu Reeves from his Parenthood days.  Seriously.

 Nanna Em loves the Golden Gate Bridge.

 I can’t feel my nose.

11.  Defrosting with a couple o’ scotches at Dirty Martini, Fisherman’s Wharf.  Mmmmm.

12.  BBQ Beef Sandwiches at Lefty O’Douls…this is SO not what Australian BBQ is like, I loved every chin-wiping, lip smacking, finger-sucking bit of it.  Seriously, this may have been the first time we two sisters were silent at the same time, and awake!

13. The DeYoung Museum would surely have been on this list, had I known it was only closed on Mondays – our last day in San Francisco and the day we chose to visit it.  Instead…

14. The Haight!  Op shops, Taquerias (Hola Taqueria El Balazo!), Mendel’s Far Out Fabrics, very friendly, interesting people…what’s not to love?

I left the Haight-Ashbury area with a full tummy, 6 metres of fabric, 3 pieces of oilcloth and a very big smile on my face!

15.  The Mission: where I was offered a special kiss by a lovely man who was half my height and twice my age in such a courteous way it made me smile, where there are MORE op shops, and where we found a wonderful small publishing shop: Little Otsu Publishing who had the cutest bookmarks, notecards, diaries, index cards that I wanted to put the whole shop into my pocket and take it  home!  BTW, I did NOT take the man up on his offer.

16.  Philly Cheesesteak.  I don’t know…is it supposed to be a Philadelphia thing?  I wasn’t going there in body, but I thought perhaps I could go there in spirit by eating a Philly Cheesesteak Sub from Subway.  I think maybe I did.  It was good because it was bad. You know?

17.  Remnant shopping at Britex.  Oh Britex, you sure know how to woo a girl.

18.  Hanging at Union Square Park, with ‘Cola’s’…phew I sure didn’t know what I was doing trying to order two Cokes.  The girl gave me such a look.

19.  Martin Luther King Jnr Memorial.  A beautiful day, a beautiful park and actual serenity.

“No. No, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until ‘justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream’  Martin Luther King, Jr.  Washington D.C. 1953

20.  Travelling around San Francisco with my sister.

 So classy.

Thanks San Francisco; it was an absolute pleasure visiting.

It’s my big guy’s birthday tomorrow – he will be 14. 

Where’s the Kleenex?

The thing is when your eldest child gets older, THAT’S when you realise a) how far you’ve come, from the dopey 25 year old who thought the baby thing was a doddle, and 2) how old you, in fact, are.

When I look at that picture I can still see the lisping three year old, who dragged around a teddy and wobbled his head from side to side everytime he spoke.  But I can also see the guy who will get into his car someday in the near future and drive away from me, into his own life. 

I think I will ground him for the next thirty years.  It can be his birthday present.