Showing posts from June, 2012

Cane Chairs, Screen Sirens and other Motley Stuff

One's mother's name was Connie, named after Constance Bennet, a Hollywood screen siren (possibly One's own concoction - that Mother was named after an actress, not that her name was Connie, or that Constance Bennet was a screen siren).

She (One's mother, not the cat's) changed her name to Kate, after her own mother Kate, on retiring from a life of full time work and taking herself off to art college at 60. The screen siren thing must have palled by then.

Kate professed to hate cats but then she wasn't around long enough to meet Wes The Cat.  They would have had each others' measure those two, Kate and Wes (otherwise known as Storm Kitty and Angry Cat - Wes that is, not Kate).

When One was only 8 years in the world, Kate moved herself and her three children from a one bedroom flat to a two bedroom house with a sleepout and a garden. 


And it was too.
Kate bought 4 cane chairs to go in her new home.

One inherited two cane chairs when Kate went of…

News from the Blog

Not sure what One was thinking when agreeing to THIS for the Slow Magazine.

Out now.

The Bloke gets an outing too in Slow.

With the Koala tea cosy his mother gave him when he left home 40 years ago.

Never washed.  Burnt on the stove.  The tea cosy that is.  Not the Bloke.  He's burnt stuff ON the stove. A Koala cosy for one.  But The Bloke wasn't burnt on the stove.

One's hard working tea cosies were doing their thing at the Sydney Craft and Quilt Fair last week.

Huuuuge, it was.  Huge.  And fun.  And funny.

Well these two thought it was funny. Particularly the princesses.  They thought the princesses were funny.  And the princesses ARE funny.

Gees it was noice to be away.

Gees it is noice to be home.