Chunky Embroidery

For some unknown reason, my normally very active son goes into a stitching haze of calm when armed with some colourful wool and a chunky plastic needle. I think we all have favourite creative mediums, and stitching is definitely one of his.
He is five and handled this well, as did his three year old sister. Just be prepared to rethread the needle. Often.
These little hoops of patterned loveliness also make great gifts. I certainly wouldn't be averse to hanging one on my wall!




1. Begin by rounding up your materials. You will need some hessian (although calico would also work), chunky plastic needles (available at craft shops), some cheap, colourful yarn, washi tape (optional) and an embroidery hoop for each child you've roped in! Embroidery hoops are pretty cheap at craft shops and even cheaper if in op shops. Grab them if you find some.

2. Cut hessian about 3cm bigger than the embroidery hoop you are using. Trace a cutting line using a pencil, if you need to.

3. Separate the outer ring from the inner ring of the embroidery hoop, using the twisty adjusting screw. Lay the hessian over the inner hoop then slip the outer hoop over, adjusting the screw if necessary. The hessian should be nice and taut, like a drum.



4. Choose a yarn colour then cut a length of about 50cm with which to thread the needle. Tie a knot in the end and you are ready to begin.

5. Poking the needle up from the back, begin stitching. It's entirely up to you as to where you let the thread lead. You might end up with a face, a house, some flowers or (my favourite) nothing in particular!

6. As each colour has been used up, tie a knot as securely as you can manage at the back of the work then rethread a new colour, tie a knot and add some more loveliness to your piece.

7. When you are satisfied with having created a mini masterpiece, tie off your final thread then trim the overhanging hessian neatly.



8. If you'd like to guild the lily, you could stick some washi tape around the outer rim of the embroidery hoop (see pictures), trimming it to fit.

9. Wrap and give to someone special!

Chocolate play dough!

Smells delicious. Feels lovely. Tastes disgusting. So I advise you have a snack handy because this will give you a chocolate craving, but it won't satisfy it.



Chocolate play dough recipe.

1 cup plain flour
3 tbs cocoa
1 tbs cream of tartar
1/2 cup salt
1 tbs vegetable oil
1 cup water

1. Tip all the ingredients into a pot. A smart individual would choose a non stick one. I didn't.

2. Cook, stirring constantly, over a medium heat until thick and coming away from the sides of the pot.

3. Tip onto the bench or table then knead using your adult asbestos hands. It will be hot, so keep little hands away for a few minutes. Once it is smooth and a bit cooler it is ready for play.



We fossicked in the craft cupboard and found some sparkly jewels and an old chocolate box. What you use is up to you and depends on what you have laying about. Beware of choking hazards with tiny kids. We've had fun in the past using one of those shiny gold chocolate box inserts, glitter and coloured foil. You're limited only by your imagination.



Now mould, shape and decorate. Go on, make Willy Wonka proud.



Tada! Good enough to eat!

This play dough will last for many weeks if it's kept in an airtight container or snap lock bag in the fridge, so there's plenty of playing to be done yet! Here are a few extra activities you might like to try...

-Get out the cookie cutters and a rolling pin and do some pretend baking. All the better if you have a play stove (or cardboard box with knobs drawn on and a door cut out) to cook them in. Once they're out of the pretend oven, I'd highly recommend a pretend cup of tea to have with them.

-Make chocolate cupcakes in cupcake papers, sprinkled with glitter and with match stick candles. Singing happy birthday is obligatory. After all, there is always a stuffed toy in the house celebrating a birthday on any given day.

-Make a fresh batch of chocolates, then set up a chocolate shop. You'll need a counter for display and a cash register of some kind. Again, a bit of cardboard ingenuity might be necessary. Now buy and sell from each other using buttons for money and little bags to take your goodies home in.

-Open up that third drawer in the kitchen containing all the gadgets and locate your ice cream scoop, then set up an ice cream cart. You could use bowls, or fashion some cones out of cardboard (a cereal box would work a treat). Take turns to scoop and decorate with some glitter, beads or whatnot and exchange buttons in place of money. Can I just say, the picture in my head also include some jaunty little paper hats and aprons?

A DIY childhood...

...used to be the norm, didn't it?
As kids, we'd career down dirt roads in billy carts banged together lovingly by Dad in the shed. Wheels from old wheely bins would ping off in all directions midway down the dirt road rendering us grazed and band aided.
We had cubby houses made from rusty bits of roofing iron and fence palings. Lurking inside would be juicy, velvety spiders with hairier legs than your Dad. Always dispensed of bravely by a gumboot clad foot before serious play could begin.
The sandpit was invariably made of a combination of treated pine and truck tyres and was routinely cleared of sticks, leaves and neighborhood cat deposits before empires could be built within.
It was a precarious play environment, but somehow super awesome.
There was no safety net on the trampoline.
The slip and slide, wasn't a boxed novelty from the toy shop. It consisted of three blue tarpaulins laid end to end down the steepest bit of backyard grass (not lawn, NEVER lawn) with the hose at the top, a bit of Morning Fresh and, by the end of the day, a grassy, sloppy swamp at the bottom. And those tarps? They took the skin off on the brisk slip to the bottom.
Water play in searing heat did not consist of a squirting thing with a face, and wiggly arms plonked on the lawn. It would be jumping on a slippery trampoline underneath the Rain Wave sprinkler, which was doing double duty hydrating the tomatoes in the garden at the same time. And do you remember that other sprinkler? Chik, chik, chik, digadigadigadiga......
There were bare feet all Summer. On concrete, on hot sand and on prickly, bluestone driveways.
Public playgrounds had rides that terrified your Nanna (and if utilized following birthday cake would unfailingly induce vomiting). There were ALWAYS two slides. A small, safe one and another, taller than your house and without sides. Oh, the danger, oh the excitement.
So here, at my place we're taking the cotton wool off the kids. It inhibits risk taking and subsequent learning and it's pretty hot and itchy, too. Their Dad has scoured the town for pallets and built them a top notch cubby (above). It hasn't cost a cent and every time I look at it I blow a metaphorical raspberry at the places selling those overpriced, ordinary, flat packed ones.



We've salvaged several chunks of tree from friends for some pirate ship/space shuttle/prehistoric adventures and some sand (by the trailer, not the bag) will be introduced shortly...and plenty of crafty, outdoorsy things to add later on.
Amongst peers raised in safe, sterile environments, my two don't know how lucky they are.



There's some good stuff happening in buntyandsars land, too. I've got some new products, plenty of new ideas, a new studio and, at long last, a new printer!! The shape and face of my beloved brand is evolving and bit by bit, in the gaps left around being a Mum I'm getting stuff done. This here humble little blog is slowly undergoing a transformation, too. Stay tuned for more crafty bits, cookery bits and kid bits. Fun, fun for everyone.

Start me up...

...please, someone? I'm an experienced and dedicated ditherer. When I'm on a roll and really busy I seem to power through oodles of 'doing'. I have days where I crash on to the couch at the end to reflect upon what has been a super productive day. The bench is lined with baked goods, tea is cooked, I've taken the kids to the library, fed them nutritious meals and then filled the fridge and pantry with everything we need. Often the crashing onto the couch is followed by my piecing together a menu for the week just to push the super organised boundaries that little bit more. They say if you want something done, ask a busy person. So, on one of these days, I'm your man. Then there are days like today.
I'm having a dithering day and these ones irritate the beguck out of me. I fluctuate between frustrated, grumpy activity where minor stuff ups take on gargantuan proportions and flitting indecisively between tasks, unable to settle. For example, I can be trying to cobble together a pita pizza for lunch as I did today and find mould in the tomato paste, grate half the bag along with the cheese then have to pick the bits of plastic out, sticky the bench up by slopping pineapple juice everywhere then in a fluster of putting toys, shoes and other ephemera back in their rightful places, manage to burn the freaking pizza! It really is difficult to refrain from dropping the f-bomb on a day such as this!
Then there's the flitting. The cursed procrastination. I've got 64 000 things I'd like to or need to be doing but can muster not a scrap of motivation to propel me in to action.
I read on the weekend, an article about writers and writers block. I argue this is something many of us suffer, only we're paralysed from doing all manner of other things, not just writing.  It attributed this state of inaction to the reasoning/assessing part of our brain competing with the impulsive bit. Can you imagine two bits of your brain whacking each other with sticks and shouting rude things while all the other bits sit around looking at their watches wondering when things will calm down so they can get on with it? I can.
On a productive day it's all impulse. I've got a vague to-do list and I just get on with things without much thought. I whip around the house doing jobs and in and out running errands. I sort the kids out with little fuss and feel super satisfied with myself. Then on days like this lovely sunny one, I argue with myself (or, at least my brain bits do) about whether I would be better to whip up that batch of zucchini, lime and dark chocolate muffins I've been planning for a while or if in fact my blog is more important. Then, should I be writing my blog in such a scatter brained state? It'll probably be a pile of lines containing uninterpretable drivel. Well, seeing as you know the blog won the battle, I'll leave it to you to judge the quality of the drivel!
Oh, and the picture above? Another shining example of my gold medal procrastinating skills. It's a roll of beautiful drawing papers I bought several months ago, on which I intend to do some developmental drawings for my illustrated children's book. I have even perched them at eye level near the back door in the hope of impulsively bringing them outside to have a draw while the kidlets play. Seems the reasoning part of my brain has reasoned them to the bottom of the to-do list, and the explanation of the pic to the bottom of my blog!

The aforementioned 64 000 things on my to-do list concern mostly my beloved buntyandsars. She's been rather neglected of late due to a break from the market circuit. Well, after yesterday, I can proudly say I'm invigorated once more and have lots planned for the coming year. The pic is of the finished hair clipette, cut and colour activity book, of which I'm rather proud. In fact, after printing, binding then selling them at Sugar and Spice yesterday, it looks like I need another batch. They are very popular!
I didn't quite get Percy finished but I'll continue working my pencil down to the bit that says 3B and he will arrive on my stall soon. This Saturday, maybe? No promises!
I'm still working on the ultimate stands for my books, the corflute just isn't cutting it. I've got high standards and it ain't meeting them! Can someone suggest a great office or shop fittings and equipment shop? I think I need some robust commercially made numbers which I can adapt to look pretty, but professional.
I'm also keen on some feedback regarding visual communication. Big words, simple problem. I feel that people struggle to understand what they're looking at when they approach my stall and are reluctant to come and ask questions and pick things up for a good look. When I start chatting with customers, showing and explaining my gorgeous buntyandsars colouring range, I see the lights go on and often hear a distinctive chink when the penny drops, then they're hooked and love them. But without the conversation, they keep walking often gravitating to the easy read nature of clothing stalls. As in 'Oh, what pretty frocks and I just love those t-shirts!". I'm thinking better, bolder, really simple signage but then, I already have everything clearly labelled so I'm not even sure if that's the answer. Ideas, ideas, ideas please!
Blog written, good. So what shall I tackle next? The muffins or Paper Percy? Percy or my children's book? Then again I could be organising a menu for the weeks meals, that's really practical. But then I want to start developing some more colouring books and oh my goodness the bathrooms needs a scrub, but cleaning is overrated and we're getting the bathroom reno-ed soon, probably need to get tea in the slow cooker, kids will be up soon, golly is that the time...?

Run, run as fast as you can...

...you can't catch me I'm the gingerbread man, actually, gingerbread farm animal!
After a long week at home with my two cherubs and but a wee bit of buntyandsars time wedged into gaps made by some super fast, hyper housework I was a touch rattled. Top this with a cold, wet weekend and the prospect of more bad weather on the way and I'm a donkey on the edge!
This stay at home Mum spiral in to misery happens a bit around here. It generally starts with a bit too much whingy, clingy, screamy, I-wanty, fighty kid action at which point all I can see is that gosh darned, half empty glass. Then I become a touch whingy, clingy, screamy, I-wanty (SOME FLUFFING SPACE) and fighty too. This inevitably makes everyone else even more whingy, clingy, screamy...you get the idea.
It's really difficult to break the cycle so I'm on a constant quest to avoid getting on that particular bike. Currently, I'm an advocate of the simple, good things. Those stop and smell the roses kind of things that poke their heads in between the other challenging frustrating, mind-numbingness of being a stay at home Mum.  By the way, can someone give me a better term than 'stay at home Mum?' I hate it, it sounds so humble and unworthy of all we do. Like all we do is drink milk and build things with lego. As I was saying, a simple thing like bundling up one of your cherished offspring (or demanding tyrant, depending on the situation) and giving them the tickle of all time does wonders in avoiding that bike ride into Crapsville. Or try a longeroom picnic of what we call 'sundaes on a Monday' (or Tuesday, or Wednesday). It's just a fancy glass filled with chopped banana, yoghurt and honey. See? simple, but good.
Investing a little more effort into the simple but good theory pays off, too. A fine weather traipse around the garden does wonders. Especially at this time of year when even the plants are growing like weeds. Just yesterday I got the kiddies gumbooted up, then I shunted them out the door where they got into some quality swing and slide time while I got sidetracked with weeding a grotty stretch of fence line alongside our shed. Before I knew it we were all wound up in the weed yanking (note to self, children under four can't tell a weed from a rare and unique horticultural specimen. Lucky we don't have any). It's the bit by bitness of gardening that soothes. Everyday there is something changing and a new job to tend to. At the end of the day we sprinkled some seeds in the hope we'll get some pretties, so for now we shall wait and see.
 The prospect of a sorry weekend staring once again at these same four walls while the rain came down outside prompted a foray in to a family activity we occasionally embark on when the chips are down. It's a real cheer upper. I've been pondering a name for it and I think I'll settle on the "Big Shop, Big Shop". Now, most of my humble existence revolves around my desire to avoid the mass produced, commercial and tasteless. I bake my own bread, I cook meals from scratch and I don't dress my kids in exclusive Bob the Builder or Dora the Explorer. As a family we grow our own vegies and keep a few chooks. We don't even watch commercial telly. It's ABC all the way with a sprinkling of SBS for variety. However, these self imposed rules were made to be broken. Enter Big Shop, Big Shop, I highly recommend it. Start by forcing the whole family into the car and head to your nearest large, department style shop. This weekend the lucky one was Big W, but it would work equally well in Target (pronounced Tarjaye, of course), Kmart, or if you're flush with cash, Myer. On your way there decide on a limit for each person. We did $25. Park the car, head on in and go to town, because you all get whatever you want! For me it was a copy of Poh's new book, yes another cook book, but may I say it IS very cool. My boy child got some Transformers (uber commercial, with a touch of nostalgia). My girl child scored a hot pink Barbie car complete with a super tarty Barbie and my husband managed some I-tunes money. All in all great, meaningless, land fill purchasing fun followed by lots of playing indoors with our new goodies when we arrived home. That's how you chase the rainy day blues away!

In my miniscule buntyandsars time I did manage to do some making. I've been fluffing around with some one off illustrations/wall hangings and I think they may well be a winner. I've just got to spend a little more quality time on them and I should have some ready for the Daylesford Makers Market on Saturday. The first one has a teensy bit of pink glitter and some layered water colour just for special sake. A little extra fluffing has allowed me to source some lovely, old school brown paper card for the covers of my books onto which I will print some new, slightly more illustrative labels.
In the meantime I've been feeling a growing hankering for a spot of op-shopping, all I need to do now is wedge it in to a gap somewhere...