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There are no words. 

Thoughts and Previews

The girls have been sick lately. Rachel most of all - she came home from school one Thursday, was in bed by 3:30 and pretty much slept solidly for three days. Wouldn't even come out to watch a movie or read a book. It was pretty nuts. Suffice to say, we cancelled all plans that weekend and sat around at home. Sophie came down with something similar (though not as bad) the following week, so we had another weekend of laying low and resting week. 

As part of laying low, I did some reading, but also re-started chipping away at a sewing project. I've had this in the "work in progress" box for at least two years, and it's really bugging me now, so I'm making a concerted effort to get it done. It's intended to be a present, so I don't want to give too much away on it. 

But as I sat there at my sewing machine, I was wondering to myself; is this really what I should be doing? Is this the most important way to be spending my time right now? I mean, I had pretty much an entire day free, surely there was something else? 

I can't say I thought too much more about what else I could have been doing, though I'm sure there were worthy options, but my impulse response was to decide that the best thing I could do would be to finish this project as quickly as possible, and thus not have to deal with the conundrum again. Not sure that was the wisest decision, since three hours later I was so deep and focused on the sewing I clean forgot that we needed to pick Rachel up from a Guide camp (luckily Steve remembered and went for me). 

I'm finding though, that recently I've got a lot more of these existential crisis thoughts going on. Am I where I need to be? Doing what is meaningful? What is the legacy I'm leaving? Is anything I do having a lasting impact, or is it all pointless anyway? 

When I turned 25 I remember feeling funny about a quarter of a century. 30 actually felt great - lots of clarity and wisdom about things I never realised before. 40 feels much more like things might be falling apart. That I'm about to start dealing with the consequences of bad choices and that I don't have the time or ability to fix things anyway. Some days the future looks good - I've got the resources and know how to keep going, make positive impact and change things, while other days seem like there really is no point to it at all. 

In reflection too, I find that a lot of my choice activities of late have felt withdrawn or isolated. Reading, walking, sewing. Contrasted to our six months in Japan last year, when even our "chill at home days" were very together as a family (D&D). On one had I miss that, but obviously I don't feel like we would be able to recapture the same kind of (for want of better word) vibes now. That was obviously a very unique set of circumstances that led to those times.  

Anyway, instead of dwelling on these (probably totally normal) thoughts, I will just go back to my sewing project and the isolated enjoyment it offers, and tell myself that it's only for a season. 

Missed Opportunity

One year ago today, we were getting on a plane to Japan. Not for a short trip, but to live there for a six month stint. What a time. We were a huge bundle of emotions all rolled into one. You could not have prepared me for the hard parts, how much we would love it, or just how much we would miss it when we got home again. 

I'm thinking on it now and a few things come up, not as regrets, but just reflections. I know it's unlikely we will ever have the chance to do this again, but these are certainly things we might have done differently. 

My first one would have been to enrol into a kimono classes. I am fairly good at wearing kimono, but it would be nice to have a bit more in the way of "official training" to give me a bit more confidence. I did think about it before we left, but we were so busy organising everything else that it really got put on the back burner. By the time I thought about it in Japan, we only had two and a half months left in Tokyo, and seven weeks of that I was doing the teacher language course in Saitama. The shortest class was three months and would have been a stretch. Alas, missed opportunity. I'll have to look for some online classes I can do instead. 

When we were in Nagoya, strategically at the same time as the World Cosplay Summit, we got to see the final parade of Cosplayers down the main shopping street. That was really cool. We do wish we had also been organised enough to actually attend some of the other cosplay events that happened that weekend, and been able to participate in the cosplay parade itself. Logistically, packing a cosplay costume with everything else we were lugging around at that point, did not make sense, but in a perfect world, it would have been great to do. 

We knew we wouldn't be using a car much in Japan, but the travel around Shikoku really needed one. Steve had organised to have his International Driver's Licence before we left, but I opted not to. At the time, I figured I'd rather not drive and Steve would be able to do it all anyway. However when we were there, Steve ended up having to do all the driving with a broken hand. Not fun, especially through the mountain roads! On top of that, Japan has a zero alcohol limit, so if we drove out for dinner and Steve wanted to get a beer, he couldn't. I felt really silly that I hadn't sorted my licence too. Lesson learnt, better for me to have the licence even to be a support driver than to leave it all up to Steve. 

Our last reflection was that it would have been good to go to some Japanese conversation classes to help us all with our Japanese speaking. Steve especially felt that he could take in the language easily enough, but producing it was another matter. Of course, in the grand scheme of things it's fine, but it's another "would have been nice" moments when we look back. 

The girls ask us quite frequently now, when we will be going back to Japan. I'm so glad it has made such a positive impact on their lives and that they want to return! Hopefully next year we can squeeze in a visit. 

Waiting for a Cyclone

It is a beautiful day here in Brisbane and it is almost incomprehensible that schools are closed, local services like public transport and rubbish collection are suspended and shops are shutting their doors. While the rain and wind over the last few days have been intermittent, preparations were made around our yards and houses; everything is tied down and put away. Now, the day is beautiful and we wait for a cyclone to come. 

I'm sure I'm not the only one who is getting flash backs to March 2020, when Covid hit and we were all "sheltering in place" which was the nice way to say "lockdown". The shelves in the supermarket were looking pretty bare the last three days as people rushed out to get supplies. There is lots of unknown and trying to do all we can to make the most of the time we have before the storm comes. 

The girls are across from me as I type this, each working on their own school work and Steve is in the office on a Teams call. It shows the five years that have passed though, since they are both on electronic devices, rather than using colouring pencils, glue and scissors to complete their work. 

We've been unable to get bread, so last night I started a focaccia dough, and this morning, I have a put together the beginnings of some cinnamon scrolls. Lockdowns are the perfect time for carbs right? While we wait, now is the perfect time to catch up on some blogging that I've not been able to get to. And the bonus on the cyclone delay is that now I'll have time to recharge the laptop after as well. Silver lining! 

As we have been busy thinking through the logistics of our Japan plans for 2025, one of the things I was considering was shoes. Obviously I'd want to take my ultra-comfy sports shoes, but since I wear them for pretty much any outdoor job, including painting, oiling the deck and mowing the lawn, they were pretty grubby. That doesn't matter so much in Australia (well, to me anyway), but Japan are a bit more conscious about outward appearance. I figured if I want to take them to Japan, I would need to clean them up or I'd be so aware of how dirty they are every time I went for a walk. 

My initial plan was just to dye them, but Maria said that that wouldn't hide the oil stains like I wanted them to. Instead, I opted for fabric markers and did some colouring. Trying to make the stains and paint part of the design. My other idea to hide the stains, or at least make them less of a feature, was to sew some new fabric shoelaces, thinking that if people were distracted by beautiful unique fabric, they'd be less likely to notice the other, less delightful parts of the shoes. 

Shoelaces are pretty easy to make - just need to cut strips of fabric, do some folding and sew down one side. I did these without any fuss Sunday morning before Church. 

I was sitting I my little sewing nook enjoying the calm quiet morning and the wonderful way that this little part of our house makes me so happy. Incidentally I picked up that little iron off our community grapevine for free from someone who was moving and didn't need it. It is so super cute (even though it's pink :P) and I made a little ironing board to use with it from a bamboo cutting board covered in leftover quilting batting and some more of the flannelette cot sheet I had from the girls (used before to make a bunny or two). 

So happy with the shoes with their new laces (although don't love how the blue hearts-that-hide-the-oil-stains look), ready to go to all the cool places in Japan. Hopefully if you are also are sheltering in place waiting for a cyclone, you are also enjoying some small things to help pass the time. 

Visa

Part of me can not believe I'm writing this post. Actually most of me can't But here we are. 

Thanks to COVID-19, the world of business has changed, so much so, that now some companies are full remote. I guess this was starting to be a thing before the pandemic of 2020, but we can't deny that a pretty much world wide mandate to stay home helped speed things along. Now, since some people can do their work remotely from their homes, countries are starting to jump in on this idea. If you can work for your Australian company in your Australian home, why can'd you do it in Italy, or Vietnam. Then, you get paid your lovely Australian dollars but have every opportunity to spend them all over your new host country. 

Digital Nomads. It's the kind of thing that makes you think of hip, young people in a van, but really, it's anyone who is working remotely and can move around. And with countries all over the place deciding they want a piece of the action - the world is your oyster.

Last year, I think at the end of February, or start of March, Japan announced that they too, would issue a Digital Nomad Visa. Not quite as long as some countries, just six months, but that's Japan for you. They are one foot in the future and one foot firmly in the past. Can't change things too quickly there. We heard about the visa and were a bit excited, a little dreamy, but also cautious. Who knew if the girls would even like a two week trip to Japan, let alone a six month stint. 

Then we went to Japan for two weeks. The girls loved it. Suddenly, doing six months was a very real option. We brainstormed back and forth about how to make it happen, when would be a good time, and what we needed to consider. Much of 2024 was research, double checking the facts and the paperwork. We couldn't apply too early, since once issued, it was only valid for three months, but it also took three to four months to process, so we couldn't apply too late, or we'd miss our desired entry window. 

It's been a whirlwind to say the least. The emotional rollercoaster of highs and lows is still chugging along, especially now. Along with the "not too early, not too late" situation, there was the "the visa is so new there isn't a box on the application form for it" problem. And also the "write down your flight details and address on the application form, but don't book your flight before you get your visa" thing. Here is the chicken and there is the egg. 

Still, we pushed through and found ourselves officially applying on the 1st of November. It was September when I went to book the application interview, hoping for October, only to find they were fully booked for six weeks and November was the best I could get. The girls had to have the day off school to be there.  We were in the consulate for about two hours, but all the forms were checked, double checked, ticked off and submitted. 

Then we waited. Three to four months is a long time of waiting and not knowing. Even though they told us "everything looks good", there was still a question mark in our minds - would they accept it? Every day that we got closer to our hopeful departure date was another day I worried that we would need to find accomodation. Or that flights would get too expensive. 

In the end, we started booking things in faith. With good cancelation policies. Our December/January was more busy than usual, not because we were going away, or because of the Japan stuff, but also because of family members in hospital (extended family, all is well now), and Steve deciding it was past time for a new job and going through not only the interview process for two potential jobs, but then also trying to find a replacement for himself. Talk about stress. 

And we continued to wait for visa news. People we saw would ask if we were excited, but it was so hard to answer, because we were, but not just yet because caution held us back. Three to four months was the processing time. Three months from the 1st of November would take us to the 1st of February, so we were hoping to hear then. Waiting and hoping. Emotional roller coaster in full swing.

On the 31st of January, Friday, at about 4:30pm, Steve got a phone call from the Consulate (well two, but he missed the first one since he was filling up his water bottle) to say that yes, our visas were approved and we could pick them up. Relief, joy, laughter, disbelief and determination for the tasks ahead. We celebrated with Japanese whisky.

For now, and for the most part, we are excited. With the flights and accomodation already booked, the only really big thing to do is find a school for the girls. It is a big thing, but I'll save it for another post. Visas are here and we are really going on this adventure!

Happy New Year!

Here we are again ready for another year travelling around the sun. The incredible busyness that was the end of November, all of December and the start of January has finally subsided and this last week has been full of much slower paced days, family time, reading and rest. 

I did read a bit last year, but there were a number of books that actually languished around the house for weeks (or, in some cases months (I'm ashamed to admit!)) before I picked them up. It is completely irrational and almost inconceivable to me that starting a book feels like such an effort that at 8:30 at night it's often a more palatable option to doom scroll or watch junk food TV. The reward of reading is always so much more than the former options will give, but despite knowing this, I'm still hesitant to reach for the book. 

In any case, I've kicked off the year with Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams, The Dressmakers of Auschwitz by Lucy Adlington and Bottchan by Souseki Natusme. An eclectic list, but for the most part enjoyable reads. The Dressmakers of Auschwitz was moving (to say the least!), informative and engaging, but did leave me feeling the privilege of being in Australia, while so many other parts of the world, where countries are right up against their neighbours, are dealing with much more conflict than we can even comprehend. 

Still, I move on, since we must, and I have a list of posts to write thanks to all the sewing I have done. Not one or two, but three Christmas presents this year were handmade, and post Christmas there was a slew of small sewing things that just got done as well. I also noticed as I reflected on the year of 2024, that of the fabric I purchased in Japan, the three pieces that were intentionally for me, were all made into dresses (here, here and here). 

There is a huge sense of satisfaction knowing that I actually used the fabric that I bought for its intended purpose and it didn't just languish in the drawer. This year I'd like to continue that trend and intentionally sew up some fabric that I have. Not sure if I want to go the whole Make Nine, but definitely planning some sewing projects wouldn't go astray. First though, I need to get Sally serviced, since the amazing sewing that I've done would not be possible without her and she's now needing a bit of TLC. 

Until I get going on those posts, here is a sneak peak at some Christmas sewing to get you excited. 

Happy 2025!

That's a Wrap

Reflecting that many bloggers out there do a wrap up post at the end of the year, neatly cataloging all their makes, or highs and lows to look back on in the future, I lamented to Steve that I can't do that since I've got so many things that I've made in the last six weeks that are as yet, un-blogged, my list would be pretty incomplete, or at least not a good reflection on the year. I guess people who blog for work can be a little more planned about things and maybe they are working in advance, but not so much with me. Even though I've been at the blogging for nearly 20 years now....

Anyway, in lieu of a "Here are all the things I made in 2024" I thought I'd do a little wrap up post with the fun things that have happened in the last six weeks that have helped the year speed to it's ending. Things that are just small and fun but special to us and I'll want to remember. 

The girls made boats. 

With an eleven week term to finish the year, the teachers at the girls school got creative and ran a bunch of activities to make the final week interesting and fun. One of these was a boat race across the school pool. Students were invited to make their own boat and it had to carry a ping pong ball across the eight metre pool. Both Sophie and Rachel were interested so we got into it. 

Inspired by the Pop-Pop Boat in Ponyo, they investigated different engines. Rachel made her boiler from a beer can and straws which was powered by steam when the heat from the candle did it's job. Sophie tried a variety of different designs - variations on the same theme - the most complex of which was bending copper pipes to be the boiler. Unfortunately her boat couldn't take the weight of the pipes and we had to try again. 

There was so much trial and error in both the boats. Loads of fixing one thing to have something new break. Sophie's especially which went from wood, to two layers of wood, to wood with balloons (supporting the weight of the pipes), and then to a variety of different milk bottle designs (when the balloons caused too much drag and we needed to nix the pipes in favour of a more compact boiler). After we finally gave in with the boiler, we switched to fan powered and Sophie did all the wiring to make the fan work from a 9V battery, including a switch in the circuitry. Thanks to girl guides for teaching her how to do most of that! 

Rachel, testing the Carmelita 3 in our neighbour's pool.

In the end we learnt a lot and had two functioning boats to launch in the pool on race day. Neither won, (or even made it all the way across the pool), but neither did they sink, so we still counted it a victory. The boats were named after we finished reading and watching the Netflix version of A Series of Unfortunate Events,  the Carmelita 3 (Rachel's boat), Beatrice 2 (Sophie's pipe boat) and The Persistence (Sophie's final fan boat). 

Sophie has been given the leadership role of Library Captain for 2025 at school. We are pretty proud of our girl, and think the role suits her to a T. Both girls actually signed up as Library Helpers this year and were very serious about turning up for their "shifts". In the last week of school when the kids were loitering around classrooms getting given jobs by teachers, both girls were requested at the library to help catalogue the new home readers. Hilarious. 

I came to school in my staff week to find this little beauty on my classroom door. I rescued him, took this selfie and he promptly jumped on my head. Managed to get him into a nearby garden to hopefully live out a full and happy life; it honestly made my day. 

Even when my school year wrapped up (a week earlier than the girls), I wasn't resting. Typically, I volunteered to help coordinate the Community Carols event hosted by the girls' school. It was a lot of work, easily twice the size of last year, but it made my heart oh so full to see the churches of the area coming together to celebrate Christmas and serve the community. 

After that, I spent the week packing things up and sorting things out and then Steve and I went off to Bundy for a quick one night (the girls started their holidays with sleepovers at grandparents) to celebrate Steve's sister's 30th. 

I got to make the cake. Which was a lot of fun. 

We had thought we were going to miss our Street Christmas Party (being in Bundy) but the Saturday night in Brisbane was so rainy they ended up postponing until the next day. Hooray! Steve and I could make it after all. The girls had made oreo truffles and my contribution to the food was this mango and avo sushi platter. 

Mango sushi - so delicious! 

Speaking of food, the following Saturday my family got together to celebrate what would have been my Pa-Pou's 100th birthday but also, 100 years of the Greek Faros Family in Australia. We all made greek food and had a lovely evening together. I contributed this bread which was just delicious. 

It was really lovely to be together sharing food and memories. I heard a language teacher recently mention that they feel bi-cultural, and I think I often feel that way. Growing up in Australia but with a strong connection to our Greek heritage. It's even more confused now with how influenced we are by my Japanese experiences, but I think it's something to embrace. What is God's vision of the future if not a city where every nation and every tongue is represented?  

Steve has continued sweating it out at Jiu-Jitsu each week, despite some injuries this year to level up to his purple belt. It's been over four years of training and he still loves it. Sophie had a six month break but has decided to give it another shot and now we can't keep her away - even in the heat of summer. 

Both girls helped to paint some Christmas decos for Church this year and Rachel is pretty proud of her little cow in the nativity scene. 

I have sewn so much - lots of presents and then just lots of little things. Actually looking forward to cataloging those as well (it kind gives January an easy start having all these things made and ready to blog about :P), just have to find the time. 

I'll finish this post of somewhat random collection of things with what I consider to be the Quote of the Year from Rachel. Last week, the girls had come with me to grab some groceries and we drove past school. I mentioned that the playground was dismantled (the P&C are funding a new one next year). Rachel says: "Oh that playground. I didn't play there much because it was always infested with children."

Heavy

It's hard to put into words what I want to say but I'm noticing the weight of life more as the years go on. This year the heaviness has come and gone several times. Being able to look back and recognise that while the feeling is uncomfortable, it doesn't stay forever has begun to give me some clarity over it. Almost like when it comes I can allow it the space to visit, knowing that eventually it will pack its bags and leave again. 

Strange to think that we become accustomed to the feeling of weight. Wearing the sorrow and carrying the grief around as part of us while our lives continue on. I'd like to think I've never been one to wear a disguise to hide what is under the surface, but maybe I'm getting better at sharing with other people in a way to make them less uncomfortable. I don't know for sure. 

Earlier this year I picked up an extra days work at a second school to take my three days part time up to four. Fully aware that I am in a very privileged minority who has the option to work part time and choose my three or four days, I wanted to be sure I was contributing what I could to our family's earnings, not just coasting by on Steve's hard work (my mind, not in any way a reflection on Steve's stance, which, was just the opposite). I was feeling like I had a bit of spare time and thought that one extra day at another school, much closer than my current one, would not add an excessive load and be worth the added income. 

Boy was I wrong. The expectation of work (teaching prep to grade 6 in four hours with no scheduled prep time) was immense. At the end of the day, I'm not sure the school would have minded if I just did colouring in with the kids each week and recycled the same lesson for all six periods (grades 5&6 were a composite class for those who noticed a discrepancy in the text there). But I'm a passionate and committed educator who not only wants to deliver meaningful and engaging lessons, but I would be so bored if I recycled anything more than once. 

Not only the work load in terms of lessons, but just the sheer amount of effort it takes to get to know 150 student names and personalities is incredibly taxing. Don't get me started on the school systems and all the wonderful paperwork and mandatory training (student protection, code of conduct, cyber safety to name a few) that comes with a new school. 

I was doubling up on things I planned at my original school to try to cut down on my planning time, but then I'd need resources that I'd forget at one school when I needed them at another, or at home, or have to make two sets of to be sure I had them on hand for the right class. Definitely not ideal.  

In the second last week of term three, I was really feeling that weight, and after an incident at the new school involving some pretty terrible student behaviour, I was done. It took me a week (maybe more) to even talk about the experience without tears. I'm not ashamed of crying, especially when it comes from such a raw experience, but it does make processing, sharing and moving on somewhat difficult. 

Yet, God is good. With some very sound advice from other teachers who I was trusting to see the situation clearly when I had lost all confidence in trusting myself, and finally listening to Steve (who had told me it wasn't worth it way back after the second week I was there), I wrote my resignation email. Though I was still somewhat broken, the weight lifted. The last week of school and first week of holidays did a lot to help put me back together, especially Street Camp. Oh, how perfectly timed what that little getaway. 

But life continues. I ended up in hospital in the second week of holidays, having some straightforward emergency surgery. Healing of all kinds is a process that takes time and my journey involved daily doctor's visits to change dressings and check the progress. I was surprisingly more ok about missing the first week of school than I would usually have been. Then again, term four is always a much calmer term for me, despite the report card deadlines that loom ever closer. 

Second week and I was finally back at work when we had news that again caused me grief; from a number of places. That's not my story to tell, but again the weight sits with me. It reminds me of our broken world, of the way we need to cling to Jesus for hope. When I was younger (oh, how old I sound now! Maybe I'm trying too hard for wisdom?), I feel that the sadness was something that just needed fixing. That all I wanted to do was patch it back up and move on. 

But we can't patch everything, and sometimes we can have forward motion even as we carry the cares that try to hold us down. So I'll let the heaviness sit with me. I'll be ok with the grief. There is a time for everything, and if this is one of those times, that's ok. This is surely teaching me something too. 

"Consider the birds," Jesus says, "They don't farm or store away for tomorrow, and yet God feeds them. Are you not worth so much more than they?" (Matthew 6:26 Paula paraphrase)

Do I believe this? I do. 

Even in the grief of sorrow for people close to me, for people everywhere struggling, I cling to the hope I have of a God who loves us and considers us precious. In our broken and sorrow filled world, I know there is light, and good. Even just writing about Street Camp last month reminded me of all these things. 

This may not be a post for everyone to enjoy, but in my desire to be authentic and contain more than just shallow experiences on my blog, which is such a huge a reflection of my life, here it is. Reminding future Paula (and anyone else who needs to hear it) that the grief is not forever and the weight won't last. Love always wins. 

The Flip Side

I feel like this should be a really excited kind of post, given that it is largely about Book Week and sewing, but alas, it is not. Sometimes I love sewing things. Most times, I could not be more excited when someone asks me to make a costume. But it turns out that there are times where I just couldn't care less; this is one of those times. 

It's been a pretty up and down kind of year. I was plugging away at the start of Term 3 feeling actually ok about life, but when it came to making Rachel a Nanny Piggins costume for Book Week, I somehow found  I had no real interest in it at all. 

The costume itself was quite straight forward, and I picked up a blue business shirt to Frankenstine into a drop-waist dress from the op-shop easily enough ($7 - bargain!) But actually sewing it was... let's say different. I didn't put it off, I wasn't lacking motivation. I got the job done, but I had about zero interest or excitement for it. It was honestly so weird. 

Rachel was so keen for it, since she loves Nanny Piggins, and I thought her enthusiasm would be infectious, but it was not. I made the little blue jacket out of some leftover fabric from the stash, so I didn't even have to brave a trip to Spotlight to make it happen, but I was so disconnected from sewing it that I didn't even bother to hem the dress or the jacket. 

I didn't know what it was then, and I still don't know what it is now, but I was absolutely meh about the whole thing. Weird. 

My take away from this is, that for everything in life, there is going to be a flip side. Times when you love it, and times when it's meh. And in those times, you just do it anyway. 

So I did it anyway, and, even if I never finished the hems, Rachel does love it. I knew I'd be off to work early on the day of Book Week, so I got the girls into their costumes on the weekend before to take some photos. Rachel couldn't find her book on that day, but was happy to pose with the chocolate wrapper since Nanny Piggins always has three types of chocolate stashed in her bag. 

On the actual day, not only did Rachel find her book, but also improvised pig ears out of balloons. Crazy child. Sophie went as Tilly from Tilly and the Book Wanderers, in a costume that I didn't sew anything for but did contribute to by making the bee necklace. 

Hebrews 12

Here we are with a new year before us. These holidays have been both long and short, as well as busy and restful. Now they are nearing their end though, and I'm finding I have more things on the list to do than I would like. I've made a bit of progress in these last few days, but many things, not the least of which is "catching up on blogging" are slowing down the usual reflection and planning phases that come with a new year. 2024 has started with speed; I feel like it's already racing to the big events. I can count the weeks to going back to work, school starting, milestone birthdays and suddenly holidays again, knowing these will fly by.

We started post-Christmas, with a bit of a clean up and out of the kitchen, though we haven't fully committed to an official "de-clutter" by any means. Steve has announced that the word of the year for 2024 is "AWAY" (yes, in all caps), and it's really gaining traction for us. Plates meant for the dishwasher - AWAY! Books lying around on the couch - AWAY! In the kitchen for me was 20 cups we never ever use - AWAY! I'm hoping that focusing on what needs to be AWAY can make space for the things we want to have in our lives, and also that we consider the AWAY things carefully before they go, so they are not discarded carelessly.

Another thing I'm looking forward to in 2024 is spending a year going through Bible Project's series on the Sermon on the Mount from Matthew's Gospel. I'm encouraged to be slowing down and letting the core message of Jesus' teaching start resonating and shaping me in new ways.

Before I say goodbye to 2023, my last thoughts on that year that was quite an emotional rollercoaster for me, are the bible verse from Hebrews that I kept coming back to. When I was tired, when I was numb, when I was exhausted or confused, I was reminded that the race is a marathon not a sprint, and that while there is much to go, Jesus has gone ahead.

So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees," the wisdom of Hebrews tells me. Take that new grip of 2024 and stand up straight Paula. God has not let you go and 2024 is bright. Sure the drafted blog posts count is longer than ever, and not everything is done on the list, but Jesus offers peace and rest. The kingdom of heaven is here and now, ready for us all.

Despair Dress Hopefully Redeemed

Much much earlier in the year, I decided I wanted to make a replica of a Princess Highway dress that I love to wear. I'd already made replicas of a skirt, which I feel was very successful, since I was able to reuse it to make my Mary Poppins skirt for Book Week last year, so I was pretty confident that I could replicate this dress. 

I'm fairly sure I did a mock up of the bodice in leftover sheet fabric, and then turned my attention to some Japanese fabric I had in my stash. It was a lovely cherry blossom print, and there were meters and meters of it. I thought it would look really lovely, so I lay it out and got started. 

Then I found out it was very sheer. I hadn't noticed before because it had come folded over, into what would be a good width for kimono making, but when I unfolded it, I discovered it's true see-through nature. Totally fine, I rationalize, I'll just line it. I've got loads of lovely cotton bedsheets that will work perfectly. So I cut the bodice and everything is going smoothly, before I remember, now the skirt has to be lined, my pocket construction won't work the way it was supposed to. Sigh. So I've got to rethink all of that. 

The other thing I've got to rethink entirely, is how to cut the skirt out. The fabric is only about 60cm across, which is pretty narrow. One width, won't be enough for a front panel of the skirt. Two is a bit much, but doable, except it lands me with a centre front seam, which I don't think I can stand. I did sew it with the centre seam initially and it did turn out I hated it. So then I unpicked it all, and cut one of them into two and sewed them either side of the front (is this making sense to anyone?). 

The skirt of the dress was definitely much fuller than it needed to be, but the fabric was so sheer and I was using the selvage edges for the skirt, sides, rather than have to deal with firstly working out by how much smaller to make each panel and then spend twice as long on each seam because I would have had to French Seam them to make them sturdy and beautiful. 

It turned out that I had also cut the skirt panels excessively long, and the hem on them was turning out to be ginormous. At this point, I was so over this dress. What I had thought was going to be a beautiful, flowing easy to wear dress, was turning out to be a layered, bulky monstrosity. Not sure it would ever recover, I put it on the dress form and tried adding belts to see if that helped things.

. 

It did. A bit. So after another week or so of procrastination, I just finished the hem and called it done. 

I've honestly been having a rough year in my mind, and this sewing experience did not help things. Even though I've since made other, much more successful projects, I'm still not feeling all there. I did wear the dress twice before the weather got too cold, in an attempt to move past the somewhat disastrous sewing experience. But I was not feeling like I would reach for it too quickly when the weather changed. 

What I did do, after a sewing break and a palette cleanser, was use the pattern, and all I'd learned from making it, to make another dress. This time out of a (non-sheer) cotton that mum picked up on sale at Spotlight. 

This dress worked exactly as I had wanted. This dress fit so well, sewed without having to rethink or unpick anything. This dress looks beautiful on the inside as well as the outside, because I did do French Seams on the sides and finished the other edges with bias binding. This dress has pockets to write home about and is exactly what I need to wear for a great day. 

I listened to a sewing podcast recently which talked about taking the time to reclaim the items that you didn't have the best experience making. Make new memories with that item, so you can move past the bad ones and still enjoy it. 

I guess I don't often have too many bad sewing experiences, or items that I'm so frustrated with that I can't bring myself to wear. The last one I can remember was this dragonfly dress, which wasn't a terrible experience so much as turning out to be not my style of dress after all. Maybe it was time, but listening to the podcast did make me consider the cherry blossom dress again. I should give it another go. 

After all, I'm the only one who knows about the sewing grief I experienced, and I don't need to let it stop me wearing it. Also, it did pave the way for a dress I do truly love, so it can't be all that bad, right? 

End of April

Here we are closing in on the end of April and once again I'm noticing that I've not blogged this month. Is this the end? Have I joined the ranks of people who no longer blog? Admittedly, most people I know who say "Oh, I started a blog!" usually join those ranks after three or four months, not eighteen years.

Even typing this though, my answer is no. It's not time to end this. I have things I want to document and more that I want to share. Even if my content is somewhat limited and repetitive, and my readership is not wide or varied by any means. That's never been the point for me. Blogging will continue. 

I recently went to my 20 year high school reunion, which was an interesting experience. It was very small, only twelve of us original classmates with a few spouses thrown in for good measure. Most people were those I was friends with, or knew well enough, so it was fairly easy to have a conversation and catch up. What I found the most strange though, was people saying "We haven't changed!" because I'd very much like to think I'm not the same person I was 20 years ago. 

I wonder if anyone else left the night feeling the same way. Surely the years and experience have made a difference to us? Maybe it was just the superficial thing to say, or about what they could see on the surface. My face has the same blue eyes behind glasses and a smile most of the time, but underneath I feel so completely removed from the girl I was wearing that uniform. 

As I reflect on this, I'm quite thankful for my blog, which I think does quite a good job of showing at least some of the changes. I'm going to keep at it, even if it takes a little while to get back into the swing of things. There are still more changes to come, and if you've joined me for the ride, thanks for being here. 

Under the Surface

People ask me how the holidays were, and I honestly struggle to answer. Sure they were, on the whole, good; restful even. I got time at home, time with the girls, time with Steve. We had day trips to South Bank, and park play dates with friends. I made a table, oiled the deck, sewed a jacket. There was delicious dinners and fun lunches. 

But there were also moment of discontent. Of frustration and annoyance. Of feeling like things were not quite right. On top, we were doing fine, but under the surface I was feeling unsettled. The truth is, when someone asks how it was, there is never a good way to bring this side of things up. 

I think this feeling is pretty normal, and I'm happy to say that even though I have felt like this before, I know it will pass. The sun rises and sets, the days turn into weeks and if I keep my feet moving forward, somehow, I walk out of this unrest and into feeling content again. 

This is part of life that reminds me that what I have here and now isn't perfect. It's not what we are made for. What I'm experiencing is brokenness. Like I've turned the bowl and discovered a chip on one side, reminding me that I'm not always patient and kind or gracious and self controlled. 

The difficulty is expressing this discontent in a way that isn't complaining. That isn't morose and depressing. It's just a part of life, but for some reason, it's inexplicably hard to engage with or share. 

So yes, the holidays were good, but I was also not quite right for most of it. And that's ok. These moments remind me that this life will always be a little less than what we are dreaming for. My heart is longing for the day of perfection which is yet to come. In the mean time, Jesus tells me the kingdom is here and now, and that if I come and lay my burdens down, he will give me rest. 

Me Made May Wrap Up

 Well, after a rocky start, my Me Made May for 2022 finishes with these two items. 

Both skirts that I made last year. The purple one was on it's maiden voyage, since it's a little short to wear without stockings. The green has been out for a spin or two. Looking at these two photos, and previous Me Made May photos (which were so hard to remember to take), I think I've also learned that I love this jacket to bits. 

It was a hand me down from my sister initially. I didn't wear it for years because the sleeves were a bit baggy and I never really like long sleeves anyway. Then I rolled up the sleeves and found I loved it so much more. The pockets are fabulous and even though it's lost a button, I'm still rocking it. Maybe this is the jacket to replicate for next year, so I've got more than one. I've had this one for at least 12 years now. 

Anyway, I came to the conclusion at the end of Me Made May that I do love wearing clothes that I've made and that next year, I need a very specific goal, rather than fumble around at the start and not know what I'm doing. 

I also listened to a podcast from the creator of Me Made May, Zoe, who blogs at So-Zo, What do You Know?. Maybe this was something I should have done at the start of Me Made May, but it really helped clarify something about the challenge. 

It's a wardrobe challenge. 

In it's essence it's about improving your relationship with your wardrobe. Specifically the self-made section of your wardrobe, but in general, the clothes you wear. I've never been one to really care about what I'm wearing; my sisters will be the first to attest to how blasé I am about fashion and shopping. But recently, I've really started enjoying my own style and what I'm wearing. And I'm loving making my own things. 

I think part of what makes me not care about clothes is the years of trying things on in shops to find they don't actually fit properly, but being totally unable to find something that does fit perfectly leads to having to buy the sub-par outfit anyway. It's exhausting and depressing for someone with no shopping stamina or drive to continue looking so they come out of the fashion battle with a win. 

Something I came across as I stumbled around in the sewing corner of the internet, was the idea that size is just a number, and that our bodies are all different and weird. It is actually ludicrous to think that I could pull something off the rack at a store and think it will fit me perfectly. That item has been made for a particular set of measurements, which may or may not match any one or all of mine. So empowering is sewing your own clothes, because it is no longer your body that needs to change to fit the clothes, but rather, the clothes need to change to fit your body. 

I don't think I've ever had a wardrobe that I have put so much choice into than I do at the present time. I don't like shopping, so I never go looking for new clothes, and I am pretty frugal, so I don't like spending money either. I've been (very thankfully!) outfitted by hand me downs from both of my sisters for a large portion of my life, and also from my mum, supplementing my wardrobe when she found something for a bargain that she thought I'd wear. 

Now, my wardrobe (as demonstrated by this latest round of Me Made May), actually consists of items of clothes that I've chosen. Clothes that I've made, or adjusted to fit. That I'm comfortable in and excited to wear. It is amazing to me that I realise this, and I have Me Made May to thank for it. 2022 really did improve my relationship with my wardrobe, even if I did stumble and fall at the start there. 

I don't know if I want to achieve a completely self made wardrobe. Sewing jeans is not high on my list by any means, but having clothes that I have made, that fit and that make me happy to wear, that is something I do want to continue with. I also kind of wonder if Me Made March might be better for me, because it's not as cold, so it would be way easier to wear my self-made clothes. But then again, maybe it's time to make a jacket or two?

Doing This Wrong

Not sure where to begin with this one. This morning was a rough trot with lots of general grumpiness on my part. Lots of this is because I've been staying up late and not getting enough sleep, which always makes everything else seem just that little bit worse. 

I decided I'd do Me Made May again this year, because, well why not? I've actually had a huge increase in my self- made wardrobe over the last twelve months, (3 dresses, a jumpsuit, shorts, and 3 skirts) so I think I thought it would just be easier than last year. The problem was that I didn't actually think through what my goal would be. Am I trying to just wear self-made clothes for all of May, no matter how hard that is? Or am I trying to reach for them first, like I did last year? 

I think I toyed around with the idea of having my Me Made May goal be something that actually made me adjust clothes so I could wear them, like the jumpsuit I started with last year, or my pink yukata. But we are a week in, and I have no intention of adjusting either of those items. So I'm grumpy because I don't really know what I'm doing, and on top of that, it remains inexplicably difficult to get a photograph of myself in any self-made item, let alone every day.

I feel very distinctly that I am doing this wrong. 

So this morning, when I woke up from a lovely sleep, and realised it was cold and I wasn't sure what I would wear, let alone find time to take a photo, I was not the best of company. Still, I put on a self-made dress which was a little bit perfect for Mother's Day, if also a little too cool for the sudden drop in temperature over night. 

And I got Sophie to take a photo of me after church with my Mother's Day flowers. I notice that the neckline facing doesn't sit right and that I need to tack it down. Bah, more adjusting. 

It's really not all bad, even though the photos are. This week, I've worn two dresses I wore last year, this dress and an unblogged one. Both of these were worn around the house, because now (as I suspected last year) they really are getting to the point where they are so soft and faded they can't pass as anything else. The sushi dress has not made an appearance this year because it was torn last year in an irreparable way. Devastation right there. Maybe what I'm learning is that it's time to retire some things? 

I've also worn this dress, which I did not make, but I did add pockets too. What is Me Made May about if not recognising how to be sustainable in your wardrobe and what is a sustainable wardrobe without pockets? 

I wore my Jocelyn Proust Dress last Sunday for day one. And I've also worn my yellow yukata to work last Thursday which coincidently coincided with Children's Day in Japan. Decided it was time to learn to tie a new obi style with it, as I was running late for work at 6:30 in the morning. Not the best choice, I'll be honest. New obi picture thanks to Rachel. 

I guess that's four dresses, a yukata and a pocket adjustment for the start of Me Made May, which, out of seven days, isn't really a bad start. Still, not sure what I'll do next, because the winter weather feels like it has arrived in force as I sit here with socks and a jumper and all the doors and windows closed. 

Hopefully I sort my goal out soon, because I'd hate to be grumpy for the rest of May, feeling like I'm doing something wrong. Also, if you've any tips on taking photos of yourself, let me know. That remains the worst part about the whole affair. 

Legacy (or Painting More Things at School)

People often seem confused as to why I volunteer so much at the girls school, or maybe they are confused as to why I enjoy it. I'm not sure. Either way, I'm quick to remind them that I don't do everything, and it just happens that the things I do do, like making sure information is shared via an email or on Facebook, are the visual, easy to see things. So even though it looks like I'm doing a lot, there are loads more people working hard in the background. 

I guess a lot of my motivation is the conviction that God has put us here to work for the good of others, not just ourselves. That contributing to a larger goal is actually something that gives us more purpose than doing things for our own benefit. Also, I want my kids to see me doing these things, so that they learn how to love others in the same way. And if their school needs something done, I don't want to be someone who just grumbles about it. I want to be a part of the solution.

All that said, here's a look at a little project the P&C did this term, which again, I had very little to do with, but I'm proud to be a part of all the same. 

We painted the besser block walls near the hall where the local Community Garden group has their set up. I did lots of the green (because it was the worst paint to deal with, and since I was barely painting, I felt I could handle doing it when I was there). It was designed by, Lis Gillet, one of the Community Garden members who turned out to have design skills. 

And I think it looks fantastic. There was lots of detail, compared with the prep area, so it felt like it was taking a long time, but the results are really beautiful. 

This is the kind of thing I want to leave behind. Doesn't even matter if my name is mentioned at all, but I want to have done something that's made things better, that has helped people move forwards. To have contributed to things that last. Things that change for the good. This is what God wants for us too: positive forward motion, towards love and relationship. Towards faith and hope. 

I'm often overwhelmed by my slow progress, by the way I'm not doing enough, by the weight of a world that is so self-driven and competitive. But this is what I want to be working on, little by little, leaving behind small changes that make the world that little bit brighter for those who come after. 

Why June was so Busy

It's nearly the end of July, and I can't believe how quickly time is flying past this year. Is it all the snap lockdowns? Is it the growing children, or the extra curricular activities of said children? Maybe it's just life and I'm caught up in it. I don't know, but I've been meaning to tell people about our June and I figure I'd better do it now, before it's August and feeling so long ago. 

June. 

June had two weddings, a school fete and Rachel's Birthday, all in consecutive weekends. 

This summary seems like I'm making a big deal out of just a few events, but hear me out. It was busy. 

The first wedding was in Sydney; on a Friday. And don't forget COVID, and potential border closures. Do you see some stressful choices now? It wasn't so bad, we flew down early Friday morning, got picked up by family and went to a wedding. It was a lovely wedding, if absolutely freezing outside, and I did get to wear a pretty fabulous cape. The wedding party were obviously very close friends (tears in several of the speeches (from the guys) and lots of laughter too) and it was easy to join in their fun. 

Steve and I danced, and I reflected that it had been at least five years since I had been to a wedding where I had felt whole and well. The last two were not as pleasant (nothing to do with the actual wedding though!) and had shaded my impression of weddings slightly. It was a delight to find that getting dressed up, eating delicious food and being with people I loved all night was a perfectly enjoyable way to spend my time. It made me even more excited for my sister's wedding the following weekend. 

We stayed the night in Sydney, saw more family the next day and then flew back to our girls. My parents had looked after them in our absence and we stayed with them that night too, rather than try to organise coming home late. Extending our weekend slightly, but it was worth it for the good night sleep. 

The next wedding was Fiona's! So so thankful that there had been no COVID cases in Brisbane. Melbourne had had an outbreak and Queensland had closed the border, but most people were able to come and there were no crazy restrictions in place. We were all unbelievably thankful. Again, it was a busy day (albeit without a plane flight), a beautiful wedding and lots of dancing into the night. 

The next day, the newly married Fairbrother's continued the celebrations and we all visited their new house. I say "we all", but please don't imagine that it's just our family. It was everyone invited to the wedding and more. Big parties and busy days. Lots of fun, but I was happy to get home again that night. 

Then came the biggest week of June ever. I mentioned the school fete at the start of this post. What I neglected to mention was that it was I, who volunteered to coordinate said school fete. I had an amazing team, but I also did a lot of work in the lead up. The three weeks prior to this, I had spent probably 15 hrs a week sorting out the fete, and now, it was really crunch time. I was at school so much I feel like I almost became staff. 

In the middle of this week of concentrated fete preparation, I also had a job interview. Not the best timing, but more on that later. Suffice to say, it was a surprise and an accident, but I walked out with an earlier than anticipated return to teaching. Back to fete for now. 

All week I woke up thinking about the fete, and fell asleep planning to do lists that I could complete in the morning. Fete was all I did, every moment, and Steve is an absolute saint for listening to me brainstorm every tiny aspect of it. Fete day came and I was at school at 6:45am. I didn't leave until 6:30pm. What a day; I was so proud of it all. 

It was fabulous, and successful and huge. The community came out in force. Again I was so thankful for Queensland's COVID response and how we had no community transmission so we could actually hold this event. There was stuff we could do better, but over all, it was amazing and I was super proud to be a part of it. Proud and exhausted to the bone. 

I did nothing fete related on the Sunday, but Monday morning I was back at school sorting stuff out. I nearly left in tears thinking it would take me all week to put stuff back where it belonged, but thankfully, it didn't take that long. Maybe three full days of sorting and returning and I finally became a somewhat normal human being again. My fete report was 10 pages long. It had been a huge event. 

In that week post the fete, when I was still running around cleaning things up, I was also getting ready for Rachel to celebrate being seven years old. I guess I'll do a blog post about that eventually too. Saturday she had school friends over for fun and food, and Sunday we had family over for more of the same. It sounds like a lot, but of all the things in June, most of all the fete, there was actually not too much to do. Bit of cooking, bit of organising, but mostly, just having fun. 

Again we were thankful for the lack of COVID restrictions, which was not to continue. Monday rolled around and we began our first day of school holidays. My last week actually, of not working. The job that I accidently got would begin the very next week with staff week, so my rest time from the busy June and things starting again was drastically shortened. 

So the job. Friends of mine work at a Lutheran Primary school in Bethania, and mentioned the music teacher there was going on maternity leave in term four, and would I consider the contract? Three days a week, for 18 months. Sounded like something I could do. I had been doing a lot of music relief in term two, and my plan had always been to go back to part time teaching next year, so starting a term early didn't sound too bad. I'd have term three to recover fully from the fete and enjoy my last term of gap year before really heading back to the classroom. 

So I gave them my resume and got a call to come in for an interview. Which I did. And they liked me, and wanted to offer me the job then and there, start date: 5th of July. For those playing along at home, this is not term four. Turns out, the contract was from term three, and they didn't end up interviewing anyone else. I had a lot of turmoil considering the job the first few days, but when they offered it, it would have been ridiculous to say no, so I said yes. 

It was sooner than I wanted, and further away than I wanted, and probably a day more than I wanted, but it was a good job, at a small school with a great music program and resources, and really, a half hour drive against traffic is not the end of the world. I just had to adjust after 8 years of working from home, or only ten minutes away. I don't know why God had given me this opportunity now, when I was not expecting it, but it would have been nuts to say no. 

So I enjoyed the last week of holidays with the girls and Steve before I went back to work before they started term three. We had some COVID cases and a snap lock down of three days, which turned into four, and the rainy rainy weather made everything pretty bleak. But Sunday came, and the sun did come out again. Masks are still mandatory, but new cases haven't risen, so we are all thankful to be where we are now. 

And I'm thankful to be out of June, and into July. Nearly into August really. It's been chaotic and fast, but what isn't? I was saying to Steve that I really want the girls to start piano lessons, and I feel like I've just been waiting for the right time, when we have a bit more space, or breathing room to think about it. The reality is: that there's never going to be a right time for that. There will always be stuff on, things to do, and events to plan. There will always be life to live. So we either fit it in or put that dream on the shelf for now. 

I'll let you know what happens. 

Thanks for stopping by to find out why I was so MIA in June, and why it's taken me a few weeks to get my feet under me again.