Rainbow Angel

My second doll.... a Rainbow Angel for my niece, who's unwell, and overseas. Her dress and hair are made from handspun yarns, and the hair yarn was also dyed with flowers. She's a pretty special doll, and living on the other side of the world now.

Birthday Woodland Elf

I just finished making my first Waldorf doll after attending a dollmaking workshop. This is something I never thought I'd be able to do (I can knit, but 'can't' sew), but thanks to the incredible grace and skill of our dollmaking facilitator, I've created this little chap and I'm extremely proud of him. I'm giving him to my eldest son who will be five this weekend, and while I know you should never give a doll with expectations, I am hoping this elf will be cherished - even if he sits on a shelf.

It's amazing what you can do if you put your mind (and heart and soul) to it...... I am now obsessed with making dolls! I have already made a second one for my niece, and have another one to make after that. And I'm sewing little figures for the nature table, and small dolls for my daughter. I may not be the neatest of stitchers, but I'm loving the process of watching these little characters emerge from under the needle.....

Gone Folk...

For years I've loved folk art. I've collected all manner of textiles and wall hangings and mini-sculptures and artifacts from my travels and hoarded them in my homes, and now they're virtually all on show in my family home in Tasmania I can really see the impact.

It's funny, but until very recently I've not been able to really identify my 'style'. I know I like certain colours, I know I like cushions and blankets and throws, I know I like strange and peculiar things from places like Mongolia and Kazakhstan, like the above hand stitched 'coaster' I found at a children's school craft sale in the Gobi desert, the Tibetan rug sold to benefit an orphanage, the tent cover made by a Kazakh woman for when she was married, and the handwoven woman, also from Mongolia. And the beautiful 'Birds from Norway' fabric and sprigged calico (which has been stored in someone's grandma's attic for years...) both sourced on the internet for making kitchen blinds and curtains.

Now I can really see just how much I love folk, and what a huge influence it's been on my life, and especially in creating my home, where I want to build a beautiful, cosy nest for my children. Seems it's crept up on me over the years.... but at least I can explain my tastes a little more simply now!

Morning Light and Streaky Rain... and Log Fires and Creamy Hot Chocolate....

Autumn is definitely coming to the Huon Valley. Every morning we wake up to more golden leaves on the poplar trees in the neighbouring field, and the flame robins are here in the garden now, flying up to our huge kitchen window to greet us while they search for worms and seeds. I love watching the colours change around us, and feeling the fresh new nip in the air while the sun's deep golden warmth intensifies throughout the day.....

This time of year always reminds me of new inspirations, and new beginnings. In England autumn marks the start of the new academic year, so for most of my life it has meant the first stage of a new journey for me - creative writing, spinning and dyeing, my English Literature degree, my Masters degree in Jungian psychology, and numerous other trainings and courses... I'd always take a trip to the big London bookshops and stock up on whatever subject I was undertaking, and I have beautiful memories of those clear, wide streets in Bloomsbury lined with plane trees and Regency buildings, red double decker buses and black taxi cabs, the failing afternoon light, and everyone wrapped up against the biting wind with layers to shed beneath the warm sun.

Here, in Tasmania, there are fewer colours to the season, but still a sense of real change, which I never felt in Melbourne. We've been stocking up the woodpile in the shed and getting the chimneys cleaned and now the log fires are roaring happily in the early morning chill. We've been hanging beautiful curtains in deep reds and gorgeous folk prints (I've been sourcing vintage fabrics online, and even bought some patchworking fabric for the kitchen blinds) and I've finally had my exquisite Kazakh wallhanging bordered with red velvet and made into a curtain. And I've treated myself to a new work of art by Madeleine Goodwolf (as pictured above), one of my favourite local printmakers. I met her recently and she has such an intuitive approach to her work. I love her dreamy depictions of women with nature....

Speaking of nature... the apples and pears are ripening in the orchard, and we are also planning a big permaculture veggie plot for the garden. We'll get on with this once our current crop is all done. We've got a big new compost going in an old apple crate, and we're getting pretty excited about becoming more self sufficient. I found this fantastic gadget in a kitchen shop - a little machine that peels, slices and cores apples so now the children all love preparing their apples for crumbles and stewed apple with cinnamon for afternoon tea... and we're stocking up with more winter activities for them by rethinking the art shelf. A new set of beeswax crayons, beautiful plain paper colouring books, and beeswax for modelling.... the next step will be some decent painting materials. I think they learn how to value good quality things, as well as their own creative process if they have beautiful paints and paper to work with.... this is what they do at their school and it really honours their artistic and emotional development. Thank you Mama Moontime for help with finger knitting too - I just taught my eldest son and he loves it. I have added her Waldorf-inspired blog to my list, and it's full of great craft ideas for littlies.

So, happy autumn to all of you here in the Southern Hemisphere - and in the north I hope spring is springing! Friends of mine have just moved to Canada where the nights are still well below zero but even they say it's now warm enough to lunch al fresco. Easter soon - and I am just getting to grips with this festival happening in the autumn, so we'll be making Easter hares and hot cross buns and decorating eggs soon..... One of our very special and much loved playgroup leaders in Melbourne felt it was really appropriate to have Easter in the autumn, with the cyclical death of the year, and now I can really appreciate how lovely it is to have it at a time of year that I associate with new creative beginnings, new journeys and experiences..... whatever they may be.

Gourmet Farming...

It's true, I've been neglectful of this blog lately. Summer has been keeping me busy with its long, humming days and blue, wispy skies. We've been swimming in a beautiful pool on top of a hill overlooking Bruny Island, collecting abalone shells on deserted beaches, riding on old quarry trains in the south to even more deserted beaches of white sands and crystal blue seas, drinking champagne with friends beneath the milky way, and letting the children roam around the garden till way past their usual bedtime.... Evenings are filled with their laughter, the neighbouring, permanently confused roosters, and the odd, late, kookaburra.

Once a week, we give the children a very special treat. We let them watch TV till 8pm. For a non-watching TV family, this is something of an aberration, but the show we watch is fantastic. Educational, humourous and full of local delights, the Gourmet Farmer is all about former Sydney-based food critic Matthew Evans who has moved to Cygnet (about 15 mins from where we live) where he has set up,what he hopes will eventually be, a self-sufficient smallholding. We love Matthew. He keeps chooks, he makes prosciutto from his pigs, he has a Jersey cow, he makes jam and yummy cakes, he brews cider, he goes tuna fishing and diving for abalone, he makes mistakes and he has a lot of fun following his vision. My children want him to come to our house.

Apparently there has been some local debate regarding Matthew - about how he will now become responsible for a huge influx of mainlanders all looking for cheap property, less stress, peace, quiet and the beauties of nature - the good life at a price they could never afford in Victoria or New South Wales. I'm afraid I don't agree with this view at all. From what I can see mainlanders (although some here might classify me as such, I'm afraid I will never identify, having only spent three years in Melbourne where I felt a total outsider, and mainly because I am actually English...) have been seeking the good life in Tasmania for some time. But too many of them are put off by what they believe to be the cold weather, and what they perceive to be a distinct lack of culture- both utter misnomers as far as I can see. The job market can be a bit tricky too, unless you're lucky enough to be self employed, unusually self confident, or remotely employable - or perhaps just foolhardy enough to follow your dream.

If Matthew's show inspires a few more people to discover the challenges and joys of rural life in Tasmania, well, it's hardly going to transform the island overnight. In my view, climate change, unsustainable city populations and the consequently uncomfortable life resulting from both will no doubt figure more in people's decisions about where to settle than a weekly half hour documentary on SBS. But even the increasingly negative prognosis for life on the mainland woudn't persuade most people to dislocate themselves from their social and professional networks even if they could. Having said that, I can see why the locals want to keep Tasmania unspoilt. There's already a large building development underway in our village (thankfully nowhere near our house), although fortunately most rural land seems to be protected from subdivision by strict laws and heavy financial barriers. Tasmania still has the air of an undiscovered secret, a secluded little paradise accessible only to those who are prepared to let go of city airs, graces and conveniences on a permanent basis. I am sure it will change here over the next 20 years - what place doesn't alter with the passing of time? But it will take a lot (more than a TV series) to break the spell, and the secrets, of this truly enchanted isle...

Beach Bakery

When we moved into our house, there was a pretty little pond in the back garden. Surrounded by plants and flowers, and a wooden bird table, it even had fishes swimming in it. The previous owners kept ducks (18 to be precise...) so the pond area was a slippery mire of duck poo when I flew over from Melbourne to take a look at the property, but my father-in-law took care of that when he re-homed the Muscovys on his block down at Petcheys Bay. So we inherited a rather ornamental water feature in the end. But of course, with two year old twins, all I could see when I gazed into the green water was accidents....

When I was three or four I remember falling into a fishpond in someone's garden, and even though it was netted I was traumatised enough to be put off swimming for about 37 years. I'm a born again mermaid now, but I'd hate any of my children to have to struggle against a foundation of fear when it comes to water. So, the pond has become what is quite possibly the best sandpit in the world. The panoramic views are astonishing, the setting divine, and most importantly, there's enough space for them all to be occupied without grazing elbows. In fact, they have called it their Beach Bakery because while they're making their sand pies and cakes and ice creams, they like to think they are, in fact, actually on the beach.

I would like to thank whoever made this pond, because they did a great job - we'll probably reinstate it one day, when everyone's past the phase of tumbling, or pushing each other in. Who knows, maybe we'll even get a duck or two. But for now, it's all go at the bakery - anyone for a chocolate/coffee/apricot/broccoli/actually mostly sand muffin?

Garden Flowers for the New Year....

How lovely to be able to pick such beautiful flowers from our huge, rambling garden... and how lovely to place them in the vintage milk bottle on a kitchen window sill with a view across the valley..... It's going to be a year full of nature. We ended the old one watching naked children dancing across the grass with the hose, chasing each other into the cold water after a 34 degree day.... then a storm blew down the riverline and lit up the sky for hours with the most incredible lightning. I love being able to watch the weather approaching.... So, the old year was washed out and the new one blown in on the back of a blue moon. Auspicious? I think so.