Quilt project

December 27, 2015

Crochet. It is an addiction.

Now that I am pretty fast and able to interpret most patterns mostly correctly, I just keep going and going.

I made a couple of hats, one for me and three for other people’s Xmas presents. Pattern found here.

Zigzag pattern

Zigzag pattern












This hat was a total improvisation. I tried out a new stitch, the crossed-double stitch (sounds harder than it is) which was quite fun. Pattern here.

But the big project was a granny-square quilt. Inspired by I started in July and finished in November. I mainly used my commute to work to get the squares done. I ended up doing 10 x 17 rows. So it’s not huge, but I haven’t added an edge to I could potentially add to it in the future.

I used a very basic pattern (found here) and opted for a black last round on each square. When it came time for attaching them, I tried a few different stitches but settled on the whip-stitch. I liked the ridge created by only picking up half the stitch.

I love it. It is so beautiful and it is heavy and warm. It has pride of place on our lovely teal couch, so it as much an accessory as it is a practical item.

IMG_1589 IMG_1734 IMG_1733 IMG_1731 IMG_1737 IMG_2653

IMG_2948 IMG_3119 IMG_3239



This is a list of things that go through my head as we settle in to our new flat:

1. Where are the families with kids located?

2. Can I hear the neighbours through the walls?

3. Can the neighbours hear me through the walls?

4. Where exactly does the PFZ (Pants free zone) begin and end or do I have to put down the blinds?

5.  Is the balcony or the window the best way to escape in the zombie apocalypse?

6. Was that stain already here or did we make it?

7. Can we smuggle a cat in here?

8. Maybe I should tell the landlord about that stain?

9. What new rules for the kids can I blame on the landlords? Maybe there is a building rule about bedtimes?

10. How long can I delay unpacking the remaining boxes and suitcases?

11. How should we introduce ourselves to the neighbours if I am too lazy to bake?

Nine lies I told my daughters and why I told them

  1.  Your great-great-great grandmother was not an elephant

You once asked me why our elbows have such thick wrinkly skin. While it is true that people refer to this skin as elephant skin, this is not because we are distantly related to an elephant. (But for the record, how cool would that be?!?) The term ‘elephant skin’ could be viewed as derogatory and I wanted to give you a positive association. So I told you that not only is it called elephant skin, but it is also a connection to our heritage of which you should feel proud. Elephants are beautiful, strong and fiercely matriarchal and maternal.

  1. Grey hair is not an indication of increasing witch powers

Oh how I wish this one were true. When you started noticing my grey hairs I realized that this was an opportunity to set a tone with regards to the inevitability of aging. I do not wish you to grow up dreading yourself aging. I hoped by using this simple metaphor that you would see that not only is aging unavoidable but that there are many advantages to aging. That we grow wiser and in many ways more powerful. Let’s embrace that.

  1. Your father and I did not meet 250 years ago slaying the last evil dragons of Wellington

This story came about one day when your dad was shopping for tools and I, in need of a serious distraction for you and your sister, answered the question ‘how did you and dad meet’. What followed was a story of strength, courage, fantasy and companionship that surprised and delighted even me. Even the other people shopping let their own conversations trail off as they moved within earshot. The story went that we were part of an ancient order of sword warriors and when the call went out to defend Wellington from the evil dragons we responded and met while saving a fellow warriors life. By the way, those swords are tucked away in a cave somewhere in case the dragons should return one day.

  1. Also, in related news, I am not 285 years old

Age doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t. Instead of trying to make myself younger to the world, I exaggerated my age because we should be so lucky to become old. Plus it adds this timeless quality to me because you are too young to worry about my mortality.

  1. Those big rocks are not evidence of epic troll battles

No there are no trolls in the world and they don’t come out at night sometimes, hurling boulders at each other in fierce troll-battles. Sorry. I wish it were true as as well.

6. My jelly-belly is not my favorite part of my body

Sure I love my postpartum tummy, because it nurtured you and your sister, but it is not the part of my body I love the most. But I’ll be damned if I breathe even the tiniest of indication that having you both in some way ‘damaged’ or ‘ruined’ my body. Our bodies change and our self-love should not depend on how much it approximates the current unrealistic body type.

7. I can’t actually read your mind

Well, this one is actually somewhat true. While I can’t literally see into your head, I know you. Oh, do I know you. I recognize the expressions on your face and the minute body movements that telegraph your intentions. And while a day will come when you have developed a better poker face and stronger self-control, until then, be wary little one.

8. The elevator is not broken

Elevators are surprising reliable and not nearly broken as often as I tell you they are. I tell you this because movement is good, making an effort is good.

9. I don’t know everything.

I know a lot. A really big bunch of stuff. But you and your sister know more than I did at your age and I am absolutely sure you will know much more than I do when you are my age. But in the meantime, I tell you this lie because I want you to have confidence in the advice I give. It also conveys my own confidence in my statements. (Plus, let’s face it, smartphones and the internet really do enable us to know everything). Yet, I also will tell you that I don’t know the answer to things sometimes. Somehow it doesn’t seem to matter to you at all. It is like a strange Schrödinger’s cat of simultaneously knowing and not knowing, such as can only exist in a child’s mind.

Don’t be mad at me darling daughters. I know that soon you will realise the various truths, just like you already know that there isn’t really a tooth fairy or an Easter bunny. Hopefully these stories will become treasured memories so you can recall with fondness a childhood where we fostered your imagination and helped create alternative metaphors for serious and sometimes scary topics. And this magic mixture where truth and perception of reality can still be so lovingly manipulated? Long may it last.

Rockin’ the suck

May 8, 2015

Wow, I have to share just how hard that actually was.

So this morning I posted a selfie. A tired face, not smiling and said this in the caption:

I am posting this because it’s been, quite frankly, a sucky week. I feel it’s important to show a fuller range of human emotions on FB sometimes, lest we forget that not everyday seems Instagram worthy. Posting this helps me feel powerful which is more important right now than sympathy or pity.

I’ve had some lovely comments on the thread and private messages offering kind and supportive words.  My favorite? ‘Rock the suck!’And at first I was a little like: ‘hey, I wasn’t fishing for sympathy!’ and then I thought, wait, maybe I was fishing for sympathy, but is that so bad?

Let me explain.

Speaking for myself, my Facebook thread is often filled with amazing photos by other people doing amazing things and going to amazing places. Things often look glamorous, beautiful, perfect, happy happy happy.

And I started thinking to myself that this probably sets up an unrealistic view of the world that minimises or erases pain and struggle. Now, I have many brave friends who post about their struggles but it was never something that I had done, but I certainly admired those who did, because it was honest and I really feel there is something so precious and often beautiful in seeing vulnerability.

But I was so scared to post that photo. People will think I’m fishing for sympathy, people will think I’m narcissistic, people will think (fill-in-the-blank-negatve-thing-here). But then I also thought about how I don’t think that way about others, so why would I be so uncharitable towards myself. If I was my own best friend, what advice would I give myself?

So I posted it. Mainly because it was true. I have had a sucky week. I was feeling particularly low and heart-sore. And this beast called social media is one way, certainly not the only way, but one important way that I connect with people who live far away from me. So if I showed up to my buddies house feeling low and tired, they would notice, they would ask, they would show care. But I would have to ‘show up’ and not stay home with the curtains closed.

So this is what the photo was about; showing up and showing that struggle and hurt is part of my life at this moment. And that’s ok. Because in sharing it, I named it, I became an active author, not just a passive part of the story. And that felt powerful.

Rocking the suck

Rocking the suck

My children are not my children.

They do not belong to me or their father. Their purpose is not to do my bidding, nor is it to fulfill my own desires. I am merely in the privileged position of watching and seeing them, truly perceiving them as they grow and discover the world and themselves and their place in it.

My children are not my children. They are not required to follow in my footsteps, not expected to like the things I love or hate the things I despise. Instead I am here to help them understand their own reactions and fond feelings or the sudden powerful riptides of grief and anger and fear.

I am not their owner, I am their caretaker, their educator, their guide. I keep them safe enough so they can retreat and collapse in exhaustion and gather strength just long enough so they can romp through the wilds of our world again as caring and contributing creatures.

The children are not mine. That word, mine, does not adequately describe the responsibility and duty that comes with parenting. Mine refers to things I can acquire and discard. Mine implies they are all of my doing, the result of only my labour.

But my children are not mine. The children are the world’s children. Children of our infinite universe, stardust children, simply reconfigured in to these luminous elemental beings, readying to launch themselves in to orbit.

While they are in my care, I will do what I can to shape a good world, to nurture them, guide their energy, to fan their passionate flames and to inspire them to lead a good life.

The children are not my children. All children are mine and yours and ours.


March 21, 2015

Mom? Can you sit with me? Can I tell you a story? There was once a girl and her mum and they were on a bus…. Let’s go! Can I hold your hand? Come this way! Slow down. You’re going to fast. Wait, over here. Wow! Look at that worm! Ewww. Ooo flowers. Can I pick some. Wait for me! (jump, splash, jump, splash, jump, SPLASH!) Faster mum! What is that? Can I try some? What are you doing? Can I do it? Will you scratch my back? Can I snuggle with you? (poke, POKE, poke, poke…. poke………….POKE) Move over, I haven’t got any room, come closer, I’m cold. Mu-Uuum! She’s on my side! I’m going to climb this wall, hold my hand. I can do it by myself. Ow! I hurt myself! Why didn’t you help me! Can I have something to eat?  

I’m (Mum?)  hungry (I’m) can (bored) I (can) have (I) something (watch) to (TV?) eat?

Are we there yet? How about now?

Everything is Awesome

February 12, 2015

We’ve been in Switzerland for almost three weeks now.

The first week was a bit of a blur thanks to the jetlag. But as if on cue, we woke up to a fresh blanket of snow outside on our first morning. We were staying with my brother and we stayed local and kept our excursions small.

The second week we spent a lot of time with my dad. We filled in forms and visited council offices and departments of immigration and copied, scanned and emailed documents around the place. This may sound arduous, but it’s not meant to. Compared to other immigration procedures I’ve been through, this one has been very straightforward. Granted, it helps that I’m a citizen.

This is our third week. We are on our own, ensconced in a cozy flat in Steinhausen. We’ve introduced ourselves to our neighbours and apologised in advance for the children’s bouncy enthusiasm to the people living below us. We’re enjoying our last week of holidays before I return to work and the kids start school, so we went skating and sledding on the Rigi. It’s misty at the moment, so once up on the mountain we were above the mist (called ‘Nebelmeer’ Ocean of mist).

This is Fasnacht season and tomorrow we plan to attend the local parade. Fasnacht is an old tradition where marching bands and people dress up to parade through the streets. Every area does it differently. Last night, the sounds of the local ‘Guggenmusik‘ band having a warm up session drifted through the window. We walk or take the bus and train wherever we need to go. It is cold, I mean proper cold, not Wellington-windchill factor cold. The interior spaces are all heated to high temperatures so we forget that once we step outside we’ll need hats and gloves.

My casual German is returning more and more everyday and I’ve bought a fiction novel in German so I can develop it even more. Everything feels right. The kids are happy and my brave husband ventured to the shops by himself today. We are all making adjustments and collaborating on solutions to new problems. I couldn’t ask for more. Sure, we wish we had one or two kid-friendly English channels, but we got the Lego movie DVD today and so tonight it’s a treat for the kids.

Things that are different: Instructions are printed in at least three languages (German, French and Italian). Sometimes they include English. There is a shop that only sells cheese down the road. Highly heated indoor environments. Electrical plugs are up by the light switches.

Likes so far: The snow. Small regular trips to the very close shops. The cold. Good food. The way people greet each other on the street and on buses. The regulated but logical way that things are organised. The snow. The clear sidewalks regardless of snow. The different types of snowflakes (small sleety and big fluffy, even absolute individual flakes). Daily new things. The elderly Italian men who have lunch together, where Al Pacino would not look out of place. The views.

Dislikes so far: Needing to remember that shops are closed on Sundays. Coffee, we have yet to have a really good one.


Our House

January 21, 2015

Tonight is our last night in our house.

Oh I’m sure we’ll be back but we have no idea when. I wanted to take a little time to document why I love this house, this place, that our family has created.

The world is big place, with big problems and I feel very lucky to be able to sit here in a place I can call home and feel safe and peaceful. There are many things I like about this place but there are specific things, soft things that have settled under my skin and tethered me to this place.

It’s the lovely view of the bay framed by the long harakeke flowers, sometimes adorned with chatty Tui. They are not here at the moment, the blooms are all drained. I have enjoyed this view when engaged in that most domestic of duties, hanging up laundry. A humble task which has gently communicated to me that I am lucky, I have people to look after, I have things which need care and I have a place where I can step outside and harness the wind and sun to help me with my task.

It’s the comforting sound of the hot water cylinder restoring it’s reservoir while I wash dishes, another domestic task. I always wished for a kitchen that where I could watch the children play from the sink but instead I love our retaining wall, with the Jasmine that refuses to grow up it despite our efforts of training it. That Jasmine is currently filling our entrance with a heady fragrance that still takes me by surprise. The retaining wall which is behind a Nikau palm that was small once and is next to a Puka that was tiny housewarming gift from family. Now it looms in to your path when you walk past.

It’s quite here, at dawn and dusk the birds became amazingly vocal and I’ve learned to identify Bellbirds. At night, we can hear Ruru or owls. The Huhu bugs crash into our windows and moths, when they get in, spiral in manic circles until they collapse in exhaustion.

There is a sense of space here too. I can look out and see into the distance. I can see trains and the hills I drive past on the way to work and where towns begin and end. This country is beautiful.

We’ve collected lots of memories here. We got married here with many of our nearest and dearest around us. We have spend loud hours playing games with friends and quite evenings immersed in separate distractions.

This space has been created truly though our experiences with people which we’ll remember. But it’s been physically created too. With Stephen’s extraordinary talents and energy, he has manipulated and decorated this space. He has transformed it as have the kids and I with our activity and movement in this place.

When we arrived it was old, empty and unloved and we have loved this house and I think it has loved us in return.


Cat needs new servants

December 19, 2014

The current servants of this gorgeous small cat are moving overseas and she is now in need of new people to feed, house and pet her.

An outdoor cat, she is independent, haughty and lovable. She’ll warm your feet or sneak under the covers with you at night if you let her.

Her favourite time to snuggle is after you’ve fed her, naturally. She’ll let you know when she’s had enough in no uncertain terms.

She would answer to the name of ‘Po’ if she actually answered. And being a cat, you know, she doesn’t.

If you are interested in becoming the new cohabiting servants of this little majesty, please email Karin at karinbrown77 (at) yahoo.com


Best friends need a home

December 13, 2014

These two lovely dogs need a new home.

Sadly, it’s just not possible to take them with us as we are moving overseas. We would prefer they stay together, but I’m sure they’ll cope with being separated. Both are pure Staffordshire Bull Terrier (Staffy). Both are excellent with kids! ready to meet your new best friends!

Callie (Short for Calico) – $250

Female about 6 years old. She is a lovely sweet and loyal thing. She is great with kids and people and will enjoy sitting with her bum against your foot. We adopted her about 3 years ago.

She loves walking and could walk every day! But she equally can be left all day by herself if need be.

She is on the anxious side and needs an owner who will help her feel safe and loved. She especially needs close monitoring around other dogs as she can be protective.



Reggie – $250

Reggie is male and about two years old. He is still boisterous and wants to play but what he wants more than anything else is to love, love, LOVE people. While he has a deep and loud bark, he is more likely to lick you than anything else. Such a softy. We’ve had him since he was a puppy.

He is really smart and could use an owner who will help him burn his mental and physical energy with play and discipline. He is a builders dog and loves to go to work and hang his head out the window of the car.



They both know basic commands like sit, come, leave it and get down. Both have been fixed. They are both fully vaccinated and registered.

These dogs will love you forever if you let them.

If you are interested in adopting both or one of these dogs, please contact Karin on karinbrown77 (at) yahoo.com

We love these dogs and are are going to be VERY careful that they go to home of someone who will love them and not abuse them. This will be someone who can provide us with excellent references, hopefully from someone known to us.

Reggie and Callie

Reggie and Callie


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 61 other followers