The Allure of Freaks

Now to call them freaks is perhaps overstating the case just a little.  But plants which are spotty, motley, stripy and variegated please me.  I know some gardeners (even some in my own family, I am ashamed to admit) detest them and won’t give them space in their gardens.  They feel that they are unnatural and unattractive, but to me they are all the more interesting because of their unusual shadings and markings.  I hadn’t thought about this until realising that in one patch of the garden at Shoestring Cottage they are all placed together in their own retreat from more mainstream plants. 

This wasn’t a plan, it just so happened that these plants suited similar conditions and there weren’t any other empty spaces to put them at the time.  So now we have the variegated dark purple/green leaved tradescantia, a couple of hostas, a lovely calla lily (thank you my dear friend Debi for that) and an unidentified purple/green spotty leaved plant which was growing as an indoor plant but seems to survive outside also.  All we need now are some variegated oxalis to complete the picture!  Long may they thrive and prosper. 

Once I got started with the variegateds there was no stopping me - I seemed to be drawn to them wherever I went.  This weekend without realising what I was doing I went and bought several more.  Really I will have to try to keep things under control or the whole garden will look as if somebody had thrown a lot of paint over the plants. 

And here are some more colourful specimens – coleus.  They were bought four to a punnet for less than $2 (true to the Shoestring Cottage principle) and add a spark of colour to the white iron table outdoors where we eat meals.  The beauty of coleus is that you can pinch out a growing tip and put it in water and within a few days have another plant.  So when they get scruffy and past their best at the end of summer take cuttings and pot them up, nurse them along in a warm bright place over winter and you will have a selection of them for planting outdoors in the spring. 

What do you think, are you firmly in the variegated camp or do you prefer your leaves green as nature no doubt intended?

Finding Comfort in Creating

We are enduring sad times in New Zealand and it has made me realise the comfort there is to be found in creative pursuits.  For me the process of creating is very soothing and relaxing.  It is the repetitive nature of hand sewing which I enjoy most, it becomes almost hypnotic for me; but others derive great satisfaction from different pursuits. 

One of my dear friends made this wonderful hat (notice the cream pouring) which includes an exact copy of her own cream jug, but made with papeier mache.  And matching it is this dress, using old embroidered tablecloths.

A new friend made these gorgeous earrings which she kindly gave me - they are a perfect match for the cream straw hat which went to art deco weekend this year.  The green jade lillies are so "deco" and this clever lady also creates intricate cross stitches which are exact representations of paintings.  Each work includes hundreds of colours skilfully blended and I can only admire her patience and perseverence. 

                                                

Giving gifts we have made ourselves is satisfying for both the giver and the receiver.  Here is a little bird nest brooch I made which included three "eggs", and I have given similar ones to friends.

The garden at Shoestring Cottage has been a very happy place this week.  Having never grown asters before they were just something to fill some space and the price was right ($1.59 per punnet) at the local hardware shop.  The cheerful colours and pompom shapes remind me of 1950s ladies' hats, so optimistic and colourful.  The only annoying thing is that I didn't realise there were two types for sale.  (I can't remember whether this was pointed out on the punnets.)  I seem to have a tall branching variety and a shorter variety, and of course the taller one is at the front.  C'est la vie. 

And one more bright spot has been this lovely depression glass dish kindly given to me by The Dancing Queen from Wellington.  It looks perfect in the rosy bedroom and catches the light beautifully, it is almost luminous in the evening when the sun is setting. 

The thing which has pleased Mr Shoestring most this weekend is the fact that he has found a pair of plus fours to wear to art deco weekend next year.  He did have some plus fours but they started out being cream and went transparent when he was rained upon one year and for some reason he never felt quite the same about them after that.  The plus fours he has now found cost $4 at the St Vincent de Paul shop in Hamilton.  He is gloating because they are pure wool and an attractive mossy green shade.  A tad snug but we will be able to take them out a little.  Lord Raglan will be very jealous; despite his aristocratic heritage Lord Raglan is very frugal and does not like to spend large amounts on costumery. 

Fabulous Art Deco Weekend

Well my dear friends I have not felt like posting a blog to you since we came back from art deco weekend at Napier because of the terrible news of the earthquake in Christchurch.  But life must go on for us, and we may be all feeling in need of a little escapism after the dreadful events and so I am going to share with you the wonderful time we experienced last weekend.  This is the 9th year Mr Shoestring and I have been going to art deco weekend and along the way we have made so many lovely friends.  It has become the highlight of our social calendar and we feel as if we are always waiting for the next wonderful art deco weekend in between times.  We might live in central Auckland, but we meet up with friends from Wellington, Raglan, Christchurch and indeed all around the country when we go to Napier for this wonderful nostalgic celebration.  We became enthusiastic about learning to swing dance and are still bowled over by the skills of those two people we first saw swing dancing, who demonstrated their skills to us at about 3am while we waited for taxis.  Sandra and Dave have become dear friends and were the inspiration for us to learn to "swing".  And this year two of our daughters travelled to Napier too, and were eager converts to the magic of art deco weekend.  In fact they are both trying to book accommodation for next year already and wondering if they might be able to stay in The Masonic with the wonderful views over the vintage cars to the sound shell where the bands will be playing and the crowd will be dancing. 

Getting In A Lather In The Bathroom

When we bought Shoestring Cottage I was quite happy with the bathroom.  It was light filled and spacious, it had a clawfoot bath for long soaks after sessions in the garden, and the shower seemed perfectly adequate.  There was a nice view out the window of a vine encrusted wall, complete with hydrangea blossoms.  The vanity unit was pretty ghastly but that was easily fixed.  At Habitat for Humanity we found a rimu vanity unit, very long and with lots of storage underneath, which was easily installed by clever Mr Shoestring.  And it only cost $185, so fitted in with the Shoestring spending philosophy. 

One of our friends, Lord Raglan, who came to stay declared that he liked the bathroom because it had a good arrangement of mirrors.  You could view your body from all angles when you got out of the shower and admire yourself.  (To me this seems like a manly thought rather than a womanly thought.  I suspect that most of the ladies of my acquaintance would probably find a plethora of mirrors rather disconcerting, and may in fact have to stop themselves from uttering little gasps of horror and dismay when first confronted by this mirror arrangement.  But perhaps that is just me.)

Anyway, things were going along quite smoothly I thought, but there I was wrong.  Mr Shoestring was secretly disappointed with the water pressure in the shower.  He eventually complained that only a mere trickle of water came out of the shower nozzle.    It didn't bother me in the least.  I thought it was plenty of water, after all you had enough of a flow to make a nice lather and wash yourself, what more did you need?  Were we so dirty that we had to be water blasted clean?  I think Mr Shoestring must like the sort of shower which pins you up against the shower stall wall and leaves you slightly panicky and breathless, as if you have been needled by the water jets.  I suggested that he should try remembering the camping holidays of his childhood.  Did he have those solar showers on them?  The ones where you put a bag in the sun to heat during the day and shower under the flow?  At least the water at Shoestring Cottage was not boiling hot after lying in the sun all day when you had a shower, he should count his blessings!  And the pressure was much more powerful than those solar camping showers too. 

Tenacious Mr Shoestring obviously put quite a lot of thought into this problem because he eventually took a trip to The Big Smoke and on his return triumphantly showed me a strange contraption designed to increase the water pressure.  I must say, he spent a lot of time and effort installing it.  I suspect its installation did not go as smoothly as he anticipated because I heard him say a few words which he does not usually say, there was a lot of crawling around under Shoestring Cottage, banging and crashing and using of noisy power tools.  Then he invited to sample the delights of the new increased water pressure. 

Well my dear friends, it was not an unqualified success.  The new pump device makes a loud roaring sound and that is when it actually does work.  Oftentimes it does not turn on when expected, then when you least expect it the pump suddenly kicks in and the loud noise starts up and the water pressure seems to increase marginally.  (But I am not sure about that, it may just be wishful thinking.)  Poor Mr Shoestring, I dare not tell him that I would rather have less water pressure and also less noise when I am showering. 

He has now discovered some mysterious bylaw and apparently the local council might be required to provide a certain level of water pressure where the water pipe enters a property.  So that is his next quest.  I hope we do not end up with a black mark against our names in the council offices, we don't want to get off to a bad start there.  At least it gives him something to occupy his mind.  And it is a fairly innocuous obsession, all things considered.   

There's Nowt So Queer As Folk

The people who live near Shoestring Cottage are friendly folk.  Often when I am in the front garden they stop and introduce themselves, and make flattering remarks about how pretty the garden is looking and how many improvements have been made in the short time since we moved in.  This is very gratifying, bearing in mind that I am usually ferociously ripping open bags of used coffee grounds and picking through them to remove the plastic milk bottle lids which are mixed in with the grounds.  I must look a trifle eccentric if not actually demented, usually having my spectacles all steamed up and being liberally coated in coffee grounds.    

Last weekend one gentleman stopped to chat.  He clambered up off the footpath and onto the little front garden so as to lean on the picket fence and make conversation easier.  (I wondered whether I might ask him to be careful of my baby plants, but thought that as I already had one probable black mark against me, being from Auckland and all, I should hold my tongue.)  My nana and grandad came from Yorkshire and I wondered if he might hail from that part of the world also; his accent seemed similar to theirs.  I seemed to remember that people from Yorkshire are famed for their desire to "Speak as you find."  He told me had lived here for about 12 years and when I waxed enthusiastic about the town he agreed wholeheartedly and said he had been very happy there.  Of course, I knew that it was a very high wind area?  No, I had not known that.  In fact I had often thought that even if the wind was howling ferociously in other areas, it was very sheltered around Shoestring Cottage.  No no no, that was quite wrong apparently!  It was a well known fact that it was very windy all around this area and that the wind funnelled down off the mountain.  Well how surprising, you learn something every day!  And then there were the earthquakes, it was very prone to earthquakes.  (I privately disregarded this information.  After all, the whole country is earthquake prone surely?  Nowhere is safe?  I knew people who had been born here and returned from other parts of New Zealand, and they had never mentioned being particularly worried about earthquakes.)  Then there was the flooding, oh dreadful flooding around the whole town.  I did know there had been extensive flooding once in the 1980s, but hadn't extensive remedial work been done up in the hills to ensure there would not be a repeat?  Oh, that was what they said but you never could tell.  Another similar flood could be just around the corner apparently.

Having imparted this alarming information my new acquaintance started telling me about his latest letter to the editor of the local newspaper.  We chatted for a while longer and then he stepped off my garden (I was relieved to see not too much damage had been done) and strode off up the road, radiating good cheer and optimism.

I put down my gardening tools and thought I had better go indoors.  Perhaps I should investigate what supplies we had on hand in the event of a natural disaster.  Maybe we should invest in some bottled water?  Where would be the safest place to shelter at Shoestring Cottage in the event of an earthquake, anyway?  Not much point spending too much effort and time on the garden, the plants would likely be washed away in a flood or whipped out of the ground by a tornado any day now from the sound of things.  I was glad I hadn't spent any money on rare and unusual trees though.  A nice cup of tea might be in order.  With some cheese and crackers too.  Perhaps some of that delicious chutney.  No reason to be obsessive about watching one's weight and so forth if we are not long for this world.

                                           Suzie must have known these sentiments would be appropriate when she gave me this doorstop as a housewarming present.  Thanks Suzie!

                                            At least I managed to harvest some tomatoes before it was all over too.

Pansies Galore

Pansies are my favourite garden flower, their velvety texture and jewel colours can brighten the darkest corner of the garden and the markings on their throats invite closer inspection.  Their simple old fashioned charm is hard to beat in my book. (Though roses and lilies are good too, if in a grander league). 

Though “cardies” have had a bad press in the past and have a “Miss Marple” “mumsy” reputation they can be comforting to wear, lightweight but providing just enough warmth on the arms.  (Plus a bit of cover is a good thing if our triceps aren’t quite what they used to be.  We may not want those bingo wings on permanent display.)

But after realising I was always wearing a black “cardi” over plain tops I thought a shot of colour may be in order and here is the end result.  These pansies were appliquéd onto the bottom of my black cardigan using contrasting coloured stitching to imitate the markings on pansies, along with some sparkly beads for a bit of extra interest and some leaves.  Before starting to stitch your cut out pansies in place it is a good idea to put them in a pleasing order and pin in place.  Otherwise you can end up with all your least favourite colours to somehow put on at the end, not so much fun.  The contrast straight stitches were done with stranded embroidery cotton and the colour combinations of the flowers were mixed up for variety.

This cardigan goes through the washing machine on a normal cycle and has been going strong for a good four years.   

1000 Silk Ties

In 2008 as part of frugalista project my mum and I began collecting old silk ties from op shops.  We set a challenging price limit and were very careful not to let any polyesters into the mix.  I would take one end, she would take the other.  Then two other friends joined the fun and we all had a great time swapping them and building up our stash of silks, having a quarter of a tie each.  We quickly became expert at remembering whether we had a particular tie already; you would be surprised how many duplicates we would have had if we weren’t so vigilant!  Most ties were rather sombre plains, paisleys, spots and stripes.  Some were novelty ties (teddy bears, santas and cartoon characters being very popular).  It was hard to find enough brightly coloured ties to enliven the mix and we became obsessed with ties, fighting the urge to chop the ends off particularly vivid and attractive ties worn by strangers.  We would scrutinise and pass judgement on the ties worn by weather reporters and news readers.  Tragic really.  To make the quest even more difficult Mr Shoestring developed an unhealthy interest in the ties (particularly the precious colourful ones, such as rare Versace exclusives) and would try to snaffle some of them when he thought he could get away with it. 

Then the fun started.  We didn’t know exactly what anybody else was doing with their ties and to give us more incentive to complete our projects a date was set for an exhibition!  Oh no!  As the time loomed ever closer I began to wonder what I had  been thinking of to agree to this madness but it was a great reason to press on and work on my projects every day.  In the end one quilt was not completed in time for the exhibition but the other one (a crazy quilt) became an obsession and once it was completed (just in the nick of time) I missed working on it and immediately started another.  On the new crazy quilt there will be an ambitious “rainbow effect” plan, just to make it more interesting.

You can see from the photos that we all created very different objects from our ties and one thing which was great fun was to seek out the same tie fabric in projects made by different people.  Some ties were great favourites and used by all of us, others were only seen once. 

The exhibition turned out to be a great way to encourage us to finish our projects and to all get together and see what wonderful things the others had created, it was creative fun and well worthwhile.  Crowds of interested people attended and enjoyed seeing our collective efforts.  (I was alarmed to hear one kind elderly gentleman offer his entire tie collection but fortunately his generous offer was gently declined.  I don’t think we could have coped with any more silk ties, I still have a huge stash of assorted leftovers from the first lot.)  Imagine my alarm though when the next challenge was announced – luckily a two year interval before the next exhibition and surely enough time to make something extra special with the theme of “Second Hand Rose”?

A Small Confession About A New Obsession

Now, I must confess that lawns never used to hold much appeal for me.  I could appreciate that when the grass was freshly mown the garden looked better but I wasn't going to lose sleep over it.  Perhaps that was because Mr Shoestring was usually the one who looked after the lawns.  At Shoestring Cottage though I have a cute little hand mower which makes a pleasant clattering sound when used and because the smaller area makes lawn mowing more pleasant I have begun to notice the kinds of grasses (or more to the point, weeds) in the lawn.  In fact you couldn't really call it a lawn, there are a lot of undulations, bald spots and of course the entire spectrum of weeds known to New Zealand botanists.  Shoestring Cottage may house the national oxalis collection too; I know I have the miniscule, medium and jumbo sized varieties.  Plus paspalum, don't get me started on paspalum.  So now something must be done.
It is astonishing how many varieties of grass seed are available in the local hardware shop - sturdy, utilitarian, durable types or the enticing emerald green soft velvety sorts, what to do?  Then there is the problem of the birds - about 200 of them sleep in the ivy on the side wall and of course nothing would please them more than a delicate light supper of freshly sown grass seed and then perhaps an early morning healthy repast of more seed - if any seed remained that is.  So before anything more is attempted a bit more research needs to be done - best not to rush in.  Perhaps oxalis and paspalum aren't that bad after all.