There’s an Angel, floating round my house

 

This is the Christmas Angel. Her name is Kirsty, and she sings the Best Ever Christmas song with Shane MacGowan and the Pogues.

This song is not part of Australia’s Christmas songbook, more’s the pity, because for this Wee Lass, it not Christmas until I hear Shane & Kirst. It’s cheeky, it’s melancholy, it’s just beautiful – and it features my Most Beloved Miss MacColl.

Anyway, you didn’t know it, but the Angel who sits atop your Chrissie tree is called Kirsty and, as David Byrne said, she has the voice of an angel. And if you want to know how to make a Christmas Tree Angel called Kirsty, who sings the Best Ever Christmas Song, then you need to pop along to Eveleigh Artisans Market this Sunday December 6, at 1.30pm, where Miss Alison, who is petrified of standing up in front of people, will be running a workshop in Christmas Angels called Kirsty. So please pop along and say hello, and maybe have a chat about your fave Kirsty MacColl song, and how much you miss her. And perhaps bring tissues, cos I still can’t talk about Kirst without getting the weeps.

Sigh. What a nana.

Synchronised Sinking

Good news peeps. I survived the retreat. It really was perfect. It started with a Thelma & Louise style roadtrip (but without the crime, police, Brad Pitt and clifftop-drive ending) with Sally and Eva.  We eased into the weekend with afternoon tea and dinner at Shawn’s Summer Palace - walking up the driveway, with the gravel crunching under my feet I realised I really was Elizabeth Bennett; I didn’t know how much I loved Shawn until I saw his estate. Of course I proposed immediately. He’s thinking about it. 

It was three days of bliss.  There was no craft, but there was time time to contemplate the light through the leaves 

 

time to notice the flowers, 

really notice the flowers

aren’t flannel flowers just the best. Little bush daisies, I just love their simplicity and their texture, it’s so hard not to scoop them up and take them all home. I heard the Banksia men singing in the trees and thanked God for May Gibbs; her vision of the Australian bush has forever changed mine.

There was bushwalking and vegie food, yoga and meditation, silent contemplation. There were flies, more flies, even more flies and googly-eyed spiders. There was unbearable heat and lots of lounging around. There was spooning and crying, frivolous laughter, deep conversation and fun, silly silly fun.

For the last six months I’ve been enrolled in a course that is about coming home to yourself.  There is no place like home, and all a girl really needs is a killer pair of red shoes, a lion, a tin man and a scarecrow plus the knowledge that you just need a splash of water to kill the wicked witch.  I’ve been blessed to be part of the most incredible group of people. I have laughed with them, I have cried with them, I have cried with them some more, and in the early hours of this morning, after reaching out, I have been loved by them. And it’s the most incredible gift I’ve ever received. And I am grateful, extremely grateful.

It’s the final weeks of our course, we are on the downhill slide to the path of heart weekend, where we find out exactly what we’re here for. I’m not sure where my path is taking me, but I’m following the curves, and I hope that your path, like mine, is strewn with daisies.

Twinkles.

xxx 

Landslide

I am going AWOL until Monday. I will not be on my computer, I will not be answering my phone. I will not be knitting, or crocheting, or sewing. I am going on a retreat where I will be forced to sit with myself. No distractions, no addictions, none of the usual stuff I use to avoid myself. And I’m not happy, I would really rather stay home, I’ve got a crafting to-do list a mile long.  I am, frankly, crapping myself. I’m not really sure I want to meet myself. I know there’s an evil twin in there, what happens if the real me is someone I don’t really like? She might be a yuppie merchant-banker who thinks crochet is for wimps, and is planning to take the Liberal Leadership from Malcolm Turnbull and has a photo of John Howard by her bed. I don’t think I could live with her.

I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say here. If you are in the Katoomba area this weekend, and you hear cries of pain, could you please drop by with a large skinny Mocha and a bacon & egg roll. I will back in the world Monday night – 3 days without craft and coffee, I think it might just be the end of me.  But I think that might be the point.

In the meantime, I leave you with Lior’s cover version of Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide, and a photo of the crafty no good I’ve been up to. Come back to see if I survive 6am wake-ups, silent bushwalks, and vegetarian mystery broth. Pray for me peeps, pray for me!

I took my love and I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I’m getting older too

Summer In The City

Well, it’s another gorgeous blue-sky summer day, just what you want to wake up to on a Saturday. I am quite promiscuous when it comes to seasons; when the smell of bushfire leaves the city, when the leaves start to fall and I need a cardigan at night, Autumn is my favourite. When soups and casseroles are the mainstay of my cooking, and there’s snuggling under a crochet blankie, when woollen skirts and patterned tights come out,  then Winter is fave. When I’m sick of dry skin and chapped lips, when I can’t bear another cold morning, then Spring can’t get here fast enough. And when Newtown starts to buzz with boys in shorts and girls in summer frocks, then Summer is my fave. Or when I wake up on a sunny saturday, curl up with a coffee and the saturday papers, and start comtemplating swishing summer dresses, floral skirts and  new summer sandals. It’s one of the things I love about being a dressmaker; if I get my crap together early in the piece I can have a new summer wardrobe every year. I am a girl who does not need an excuse for a new dress. Nor a new handbag for that matter. There are small piles of fabric on the studio floor, just waiting for me to cut them out, pin them together and sew them up. I have a tomato red linen jacket (that I started last summer, but then lost the pattern for) that is impatiently waiting to be finished. It will get finished soon, because (a) I bought another copy of the pattern – it cost me a bomb cos it’s out of print and (b) it will look fabulous with a corsage pinned to it’s shoulder.

Speaking of corsages, yesterday was the final day of my giveaway. There were three lovely comments from TinnieGirl, VonWoof and GeorgieLove, who shared such lovely, honest and at times, heart-wrenching stories, that I can’t possibly choose.  Thank you all for sharing your stories and leaving comments – they have truly made my heart sing! I shall contact you all, find out your summer colour, and send you a corsage, that you can pin to the shoulder of your jacket, or to your 50s straw handbag, or even the waist of your new cocktail frock, and promenade around while Dean Martin sings in the background, and all the boys and girls peer over their sunglasses and ask “Who is that Fabulous Woman?”.

And for those of you who missed out, you can pop into my brand spanking new Etsy store, or come and visit me at Eveleigh markets Sunday December 6, at the Carriageworks. It’s same weekend as Finders Keepers, (and the same venue!) so don’t spend all your money at FK, save some for Eveleigh. It’s like Finders, but better!! WOO HOO!

PS. Don’t forget that Crafternoon is coming up. Sunday 29th November, it’s our Chrissie get together, in Sydney,venue to be decided. We love new faces at Crafternoon, so if you are crafting in solitude, and would love some crafty gals to be with, please drop me a line at missalisonregrets@gmail.com we’d love to see you!

There’s No Such Place

I’m afraid Augie March is the appropriate tune for this afternoon’s wee melt-down. 21st Century, why do you challenge me so? Why doesn’t wordpress have widget button thingies for everything – one for your brown owls button, one for the knitters guild, one for dial an IT person, and one for a girl’s Etsy shop? I have been on the computer all day, all day I tell you. My back is sore, my bum is numb and do I have a little link in my sidebar that you can click on that takes you to my Etsy store? Sigh. No. 

I have managed to load one corsage into my esty shop which you can find here. I have had enough 21st century for one day(lifetime) and am going to curl up on the couch with an IcyPole. Lovely TinnieGirl, thank you so much for your offer of help. I’m afraid I have no brainspace left for this stuff – would it be impolite of me to call on you tomorrow?

xxx

PS Miss Looby Lou – two posts in one day – WOO HOO!!

La Valse d’Amelie

I’ve come over all French on you. Oh er missus. I’ve spent the morning battling the technology beast, and I won, and I want to listen to something uplifting and joyous, so have put the soundtrack to Amelie on. Did you just love that movie, or what? I defy anyone to watch that movie and remain in a crap mood. Even I can’t stay poopy – and we all know Miss Alison’s evil twin is Miss Cranky-Pants. I digress.  My next tech job is linking the song each post is named after to the post, so when you open it, you hear what I am hearing as I type. But digital music flumoxes me, and I’ve been wrestling the Etsy beast all morning, and I’m tired. I need a bex and a lie-down. There’s only so much 21st Century a girl can take. I need a tech detox, where is an Amish village when you need one?

Good news – I have an Etsy shop, I have an Etsy shop!  There’s nought in it yet, but that will be this afternoon’s job. But I have an Etsy shop. It’s called, funnily enough, Miss Alison Regrets, but without the spaces, so MissAlisonRegrets.etsy.com I have no idea how to get into it, like I said it’s taken me all day to set the damned thing up. I can’t wait to be rich, so I can afford an IT department. I will figure out how to put a link to the shop on the side of my blog so you can pop in and have a look. I now have to take some photos, and figure out postage, and then convert into US dollars, and bang, my brain just exploded. Can someone please get IT on the line and have them sort it out?

Am taking a leaf out of monkey-boys book. Seriously, that cat is bonkers.

I Wish That I Was Beautiful For You

I wish that I was beautiful for you
I wish that I inspired tiny fireworks inside the way you do
So delicately made
A prayer left unprayed
Before the morning sky fades
Up to blue
And I wish that I was beautiful for you

 

Or at least I wish I didn’t look like the love child of ET and your teddy bear.

Back to the drawing board.

The End of the World

My original intention for starting Miss Alison Regrets was to have a place where I could talk about craft. Making things is an intrinsic part of my identity – it really is craft or die for me. I am one of  those lucky people who grew up in a creative household – surrounded by smart, creative and resourceful women who re-used or made for themselves. Well, woman. Groovie Mommie has been re-upholstering, re-painting, re-using and sewing for as long as I can remember. There isn’t anything my mother can’t do – although she will tell you otherwise. The values I have today are grounded in the home my mother worked to make for my sister and I.  And I’m extremely grateful.

 

So to celebrate Creative Women, I am having a give away.  Tell me about who inspires or has shaped you and Friday 13th (eek) I will be picking two names at random and giving away one (each) of my tie pins. I’m also in the midst of a fabric clean out, so you may well get a fold or two of fabric!

xxx

 

The Luckiest

Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Mr Ben Folds on piano and vocals, who will sing today’s theme song.

It’s today’s song because it sums up how I’m feeling right now. I feel like I’ve been on a train for a long time, always looking out the window to see if it was my stop, if this is where I am supposed to get off. I went through a few stations that looked like they might be the place, but they weren’t. It was a bit of a shame, cos there were some hot men at some of those stops.  I should have known that my station would have fabric, yarn and fabulous, fabulous women. I should have known that my station would involve the practice of women’s so called domestic arts.   For those of you who have left comments, I am cartwheeling around my sewing room. Well, almost cartwheeling – you kinda have to give them up once you hit a certain age.  Thank you so so much for popping by, and taking  the time wave hello. I am completely overwhelmed and incredibly humbled. I will get back to you, I promise, but I am frantically dipping strawberries (not a euphemism)

 

and then I’m on the train tomorrow to visit Mommie Dearest, but I will be back this weekend, so come back and visit because I am planning something special. 

xxx

 

 

Sew My Name

Sunday November 1st, 2009. Eveleigh Artisans Market, Sydney. 10am. 

 

 Ladies, I’m ready.

 

Ready.

 

Over  here.

 

LAY-DEEZ!!!

 

Robyn & Sue (and Miss Alison’s very first sale)

Miss Maria holding the fort

 Looby Lou

Form a line girls, there’s enough of me to go around

There is no way to convey the day I had at Eveleigh yesterday.

I am overwhelmed by the support and love of my friends, and flying high on the reception my tie-pins received. To Robyn, Sue, Maria, Lucinda, Sophie, Paula & Craig (who is the definition of support) – thank you. It meant the world to see your lovely faces (and apols Craig I didn’t whip my camera out). To all the people who bought a pin from me, thank you. To my lovely fellow Brown Owls Jess, Jen & Sheryl, I just loved being part of the Brown Owl corner of the market, and to Sasha – my new market friend, thank you so so much for making my day perfect. And to Lozzie, the best shop-girl a Seamstress could ever hope for – Sunday would not have been Sunday without you.

And to those of you who couldn’t make it, put Sunday December 6 in your diary, come on down to Eveleigh, and come hang with us crafty chics.

And buy handmade for Christmas!

xxx 

“Sunday evening always has a sense of something good about to end…”

Josh Pyke