Showing posts from July, 2012

Lilla Rose Giveaway

Elizabeth from Yes They Are All Ours asked me to review the Lilla Rose hair clip. Now, I've been a fan of Flexi8 clips for a number of years and these looked similar so before I said "Yes" I did a little research. I didn't want to be in the awkward position of promoting a clip that was a replica of another - or the other way around. It turns out, (from what I read here) that they are one and the same. Lilla Rose is the selling arm of the company done through consultants. You can still order from the Flexi8 website, but there are some clips only available through the consultants. (BTW, if you're outside the shipping area for Lilla Rose - which is any of us downunder - you can still buy from a consultant - just contact them first to discuss shipping options.)

So what is so great about these clips? Apart from their aesthetic value (and many of them are very pretty) they can also be used for a variety of styles. For anyone with long hair who has ended up with tangles…

Oh D*** It

No, I haven't resorted to profanity on my blog and this post isn't even about profanity - not really - but do you remember a time when "swear words" were spelt with asterisks in books and newspapers and no man would swear in front of a lady? I don't remember the latter but I do certainly remember the former.

But that's a little aside. This post is actually about darn-ing: as in fixing that pair of socks that Son#5 managed to get holes in and which DH assured him his Mum could fix!

I've never darned a pair of socks in my life. Tiny holes in knitted items where the stitches are still basically all there, yes, but restoring a pair of socks, no.

DH talked about things like darning mushrooms and eggs and whatnots. I thought we were darning, not cooking. It seemed that DH had more knowledge than I did on the skill in question, and even that was sketchy.

Enter search engines. There are a number of tutorials out there including some videos but I chose to use this one…

Family Update

1. The Most Adorable Granddaughter#4 was here on Saturday. I forgot about the "No Sugar" rule and gave her a choc chip oatmeal biscuit that Son#5 had made. She enjoyed it! Then, The Most Adorable Granddaughter#3 woke up and I gave her a biscuit too. Before she had a chance to eat it - and while still groggy from sleep - The Most Adorable Granddaughter#4 had taken it out of her hand (and you thought butter wouldn't melt in her mouth). I gave it back to The Most Adorable Granddaughter#3 but she didn't want it after her cousin had had it. So I gave The Most Adorable Granddaughter#3 another biscuit. Fast-forward half an hour or so and The Most Adorable Granddaughter#3 protested vehemently when I put The Most Adorable Granddaughter#4 into the highchair to have her dinner. After The Most Adorable Granddaughter#4 had finished, I got her out and picked up the scraps that had somehow ended up on the floor and put them in the bowl ready to give to our dog Kielsie. The next thi…

An Open Letter

Dear Spammer,

Perhaps you are human - although I doubt it - but since you insist on filling my inbox with your crude and badly worded comments I have been forced to restore CAPTCHA to my comments box once again.

In other words, I'm afraid I now have word verification again.

I didn't want to do this. It's something I hate and I wanted to make things easier for my readers who like to comment but you have left me with little choice.

I thought I could cope with the spam that I would inevitably receive. After all, I just have to delete it, right?

Right. And wrong. I don't want to delete comments that my readers have given thought and time to but to check if something is spam or just a legitimate anonymous commenter, I have to read the comment first, and quite frankly, many times I'd rather not. I only need to read the first two or three words, but sometimes that it is even too much.

So it is with regret that I reinstate word verification and with that, I offer my apologies t…

In Joy

It's my sister's middle name. It's in many of the songs we sing in church. Yet one week ago I was challenged to realise that it didn't feature as it ought to in my own life. To what am I referring?


Now don't get me wrong. My family brings me much joy and none more so than to see them walking in the ways of the Lord. But as a Christian I feel that there's a deeper joy - a joy in spirit - that I sadly lack. Perhaps you would call it a supernatural joy.

Truth is, I'm not sure how to go about seeking or experiencing such joy. A quick glance through my Bible and it seemed that joy is a command. Not a reaction to something, but something that we do. In many ways, much like love.

But let all those rejoice who put their trust in You;
Let them ever shout for joy, because You defend them;
Let those also who love Your name
Bejoyful in You
(Psalm 5:11, NKJV).

And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me;
Therefore I will offer sacrifices ofjoy in His…

Better Than This

Footsteps down the hallway at three in the morning ...

Little arms wrapped tightly around my neck and a whispered, "I love you" in my ear ...

Helpers in the kitchen ...

Big boys playing at being little ...

Celebrating milestones ...

Always ... always ... cleaning up after little people ...

Gumboots lined up at the back door ...

Time with family...

Food disappearing faster than it can be prepared ...

Stacks of dishes in the sink ...

A little voice chiding me at bedime, "But we have to say our prayers" ...

Cuddles ... and kisses ... and all things sweet ...

It doesn't get any better than this.

God sets the solitary in families;

God places the lonely in families;

Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

(Loosely paraphrased from Psalm 68:6, NLT, NKJV.)


... was the magnitude of the earthquake that hit us last night. I was drifting off to sleep when it began. As I lay there in that half-confused state between waking and sleeping, I was waiting for it to stop so that I could get back to my dreams but it had the audacity to become stronger and louder. I was starting to wonder if I should find some place safer than my cosy bed with its electric blanket when I heard things falling.

That was when I knew it was more than just a little shake. As the quake subsided I discovered that a few photos had fallen off the mantelpiece and one had broken. No serious damage. (I wonder what constitutes 'damage'? The reports said that there had been no damage reported - well I'm hardly going to report a broken photo frame - but I suspect others must have had a few things broken also - flower pots, salt and pepper shakers, ornaments, anything???)

As we made our way back to bed, a little shaky, and sleep now eluding us, it was time to text the fam…


It's cold. As in really cold. And our house is colder than most. There's an advertisement on the telly that says New Zealand has the worst houses in the world when it comes to damp and cold. If that's true - and of course we know that everything we see and hear on telly has to be true - then our house is up there with the worst of the worst.

Yesterday I did my workout with gloves on. Inside. I did not take them off the entire time.

If I could play the flute or sew with gloves on I'd do that too. Instead I have to spend a few months with fingers that feel like blocks of ice and which are covered with chillblains and not complain because after all, I was the one who wanted to live in a big ol' house that we could renovate and vaguely decorate in country style.

At the time it seemed romantic.

Now it just seems cold.

At least I have these. Newly finished and very warm:

(Perhaps I need matching ones for my hands?)

If I have one request, it's this: please, summer, come ear…