You decorated my life…

Thanks for that, Kenny.

Stuck in my head now and I don’t know any more lyrics…

…anyhoo…

…I wanted to share some of my makey things with you.

It just so happens that today I completed the second instalment of an ottoman making class at my very favourite stitching shop called…Stitch!

So since I have just tortured my husband with a post-rugby fill the ottoman with the beans in the bath interlude, I thought it necessary to take a pic to share.

I also made the cushions and the lamp was a from a recent class at Make, another very lovely spot for crafty folk.

Image

How ’bout you? Been making stuff today?

Stitchy critchy Super Sue x

Advertisements

I go out walking ( not quite after midnight)…

I was talking with my extended family about winter.

My sister said she felt like we’d already had a lot of winter and that spring should be starting any moment.

I mentioned I was really enjoying winter this year.

(Which is a little funny because I have already had one winter.

But the English do winter so well, all lamps and Sunday walks and pub lunches and Christmas.)

I immediately wanted to eat my words because I realised I was the only one who didn’t have a full time job, meaning I can go for lovely walks at 2 o’clock on lovely winter afternoons if I wish.

But I have since realised that it isn’t that walk time that I love.

It’s when I go right on dusk.

There’s mist, maybe drizzle, there are fires and lights in windows.

Sweet melancholy.

I return home when it is properly dark, having said a personal goodbye to daylight.

I’ve heard that it is really good physiologically to be outside as day is breaking, but I like the other end too.

 

Image

Night-time Walky Super Sue x

I’ve got $5 and it’s Saturday (night)

If I could choose to shop anywhere in the world it would be at a craft market.

I love them, really.  So much.

The night before a craft market is like Christmas Eve to me. Not adult Christmas Eve, either.

Proper excitement.

Like just got new shoes got to put them where I can see them when I wake up excitement.

Sometimes I sell at markets.  Because I want to be as much a part of it all as I can.

I just love that people make stuff.

Beautiful stuff.

Cute stuff.

Practical stuff.

I love that people make stuff then put it out for the world to see.

Do you like the stuff I make?

Is it of any use to you?

Is there a place for it in your life?

Do you like it or want it enough to buy it?

Brave, really.

So today I shopped.  I chose carefully.  I chatted and tried to let people know how much I appreciated their talent and that they chose to share it with me. I greeted friends who were selling and it thrilled me that they considered me to be like them.

Soul baring sellers.

Today my Christmas morning came in the form of the Encraftment Market.

Busy and crowded and making it all worthwhile.

Held two or three times a year in Christchurch, there are always many beautiful and yummy stalls.  Deliciousness all round.

Here comes the rat show…*

 

image

This gorgeous wee bird is by Debbie Porter.

Meet Debbie here.

Her whole body of work is inspired and I wanted a wee piece of it for me.

 

And oh oh oh was I Wowed by the amazingly original Off Beat stall.  This was a mere souvenir, I imagine there will be more Off Beat members of our family in the near future.

And oh oh oh was I WOW ed by the amazingly original Off Beat stall.

I spent many many moments gazing at the wonderful wood turned creations.  This dude was a mere souvenir,  I imagine there will be more Off Beat members of our family in the near future.

I also bought magical marshmallow from Sweet.   Mouth-melting yum in flavours like Lemon Lime and Bitters and Kahlua.  No ordinary stuff.

My junior companions also had fun with their purses of change.  Crayon rolls and bookmarks and another visit to Sweet.

We didn’t break the bank, but we did have fun.  We loved to look and we are chuffed with our purchases.

Markets.

Proper shopping in my book.

Maybe we’ll cross paths at one one day soon.  Hope so.

Shoppy-woppy Super Sue x

 

* the term comes from a distant cousin of mine who told us that in her family they call shopping show and tells ‘rat shows’ after their cat’s habit of  killing mice and rats and lying them all out on the lawn in a row to be admired.

I know the photos are crap, but I refuse to get fussy over something that, at this stage, just isn’t being seen,  any present company please pardon 🙂

Image

There’s a tear in my beer

Screen Shot 2014-06-10 at 2.19.47 PM

Your character was awful.

You played him so well that I decided I didn’t like you.

My parents must have loved you.  I was a teen of the 80s.

You kept me from moaning about the early Friday night curfews.

We’d watch you on our ownsomes and mimic you on Mondays.

And you were other people too.  They were pretty awful as well.

Still too much of a Young One to go.

The last word is yours.

RIP.

Screen Shot 2014-06-10 at 2.46.09 PM

 

Rick: Thatcher’s Britain. Thatcher’s bloody Britain! Look at me. I’m young, I’m pretty. I’ve got 5 O Levels. Bloomin’ good grades as well, considering I didn’t do a sod of work cause I’m so hard. And look at me now! Homeless, cold, and prostitute. 

Mike: Destitute, Rick.

Rick: Oh, glory be and save us, Mike, do we have to mince our words?

 

 

How can I miss you if you won’t go away?*

It’s probably worthwhile letting you know now that we are country music fans round these parts.

Not ‘Country and Western’ as some folks like to say.

There is a difference and ma’am, it’s a difference worth knowin’.

We don’t line dance.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

We don’t belong to clubs. Nothing wrong with that either.

We just like songs.

And skilled musicians.

And three chords for us to play on a guitar.  Sometimes we like more.

And concerts.  We like concerts.

We live in the wrong country for country concerts.

We’d love to see Eric Church or Kenny Chesney or Keith Urban.

But we have seen The Mavericks,  Dwight Yoakam,  Brooks and Dunn,  Mary Chapin Carpenter,  Kevin Welch,  Kieran Kane, Taylor Swift and even Garth Brooks back in the bad old days.

And we’ve seen quite a few Australians too.

And plenty of others who aren’tsomuch country singers.

There’s quite a lot of CDs in our house.

Yes, we still buy them.  Liner notes don’t look as good on the screen.

We’re not just country music fans … Lord, no.  (and Lorde, no)

We like folk music too.  And some rock.  And definitely a bit of pop.  Not so much jazz.  Or blues.  Or opera.

But we, particularly I, like musicals.

At the moment we’re mainly listening to Jake Bugg, Passenger and James Blunt.

A little break from the country folk.

I didn’t mean to spill all this.

But it explains my post titles*.

They’re all (sometimes, but not necessarily, really bad) country song lyrics.

Country and western, that is.

 

Lately we’ve seen this guy…

Lately we've seen this guy...

…and this gal…

…and this guy.

This song made me cry.

He knew it would, the scoundrel.

 

Cheerio,

Sookey-wookey Super Sue x

We’ve only just begun

I read blogs.

I read lots of blogs.

Sometimes I think I could do that no probs.

Sometimes I wonder where this person found such wisdom and the ability to write it down and I think I could never do that no way not me no siree.

But it is currently obvious that I am doing it.

And my thought is that this first post could either be the most read of all my posts or could be the one that no one ever reads.

But either way it should have substance.  It should show what the future of this blog holds.

But that’s where I falter.

Because I really am not sure.

So I will start with some things I am sure of and if we still like each other we’ll forge ahead and make a future together.

I will begin with me.

Because I know a lot about me.

I am my own Mastermind specialist subject.

My name is Susan Caddie.  People call me Sue.  My son calls me Susie.

I live in a small beach village about half an hour north of Christchurch in the South Island of New Zealand.

I live with my (first) (you never know what life holds or indeed has already held) husband Gordon and my two offspring.

Finn is fourteen and attends our local high school.  He is sporty and funny.

Rosa is 10.  She is sugar and spice.  She bakes and sings and reads and loves.

Gordy is the best man for me.  No doubt.  We sleep in the study because I decided our bedroom would make a much better sewing room.

Good idea he said.

I look after house stuff.  Although do not take this to mean I do all the housework.  Ah-uh I do not.

I transfer my children from place to place.  I support their endeavours with my presence and my cheers and by supplying food at the right times and making sure they are paid up and kitted out and good to go.

I work part time teaching at a local primary school.  I used to teach preschool music.  I would like to be teaching children to sew.

I walk.  Sometimes I run.  I cycle.  Correction.  I ride a bike.  I do all these things gently and without any sense of competition.

I read.  I alternate between chick-lit and weightier tomes.  Not War and Peace weighty.

I like magazines too.

Not crap ones.

You know who you are.

I travel.  We all do.  As much as we can.  Which isn’t a much as some but probably more than most.

I stitch.  With machine and by hand.  With a pair of needles and most recently a hook.  Getting there.

I love.  The family that lives with me.  The family I was born into.  The family that I marrried into.  My friends.

I like jokes.  Puns, clever, a little bit grubby.  Whatever you’ve got.  I particularly like jokes you can share with kids but they’re surprised you shared them because they’re possibly a little bit naughty.

So.

That’s a lot of me.  Not everything of course.  But 5 days in the draft folder is enough for any little fledgling blog post.

Surely.

So there will be more to come.  More detail.  More colour.  More me.

Hope that suits you.

Cherrio!

Super duper Susie Sue

 

And that would be Leo He lives with us too. But we are not crazy cat people. Not really.

And that would be Leo
He lives with us too.
But we are not crazy cat people.
Not really.