I got some really nice responses to my last post. That meant a lot. And I had some interesting email conversations. I still am not sure about the complicated ethics of the whole thing (next on Minority Fights! Race vs. Diminished Capacity!! Which is more Worthy!!!) but I do know that I am glad I spoke up. I am usually never that person, and I am proud of myself that I was this time. And amazed by the unanimous, supportive but non-aggresive response from the other passengers. I am still astonished by how script-like it was.
My Interweave Knits came the other day. I don’t mean last week. It was… maybe Tuesday this week?
How long has that thing been out? I know it’s been in stores here for a while. It always takes a while to come to subscribers here in Oz, but this one feels especially long. But then I can’t really remember because my mental clock started from the sneak peek, which was before the mag came out at all, and also these last two weeks have been the loooooongest eeeeeeever. Mostly because I was waiting. To hear about the house.
Which I got. Yaaay! Now I am in the throes of organizing, signing things, breaking the lease at my current place, thinking about packing – no, I haven’t packed anything yet. Shuddup.
Anyway, because of the time lag I wasn’t overly excited to get the magazine. I actually thought ‘oh yeah. I remember that’. There are some gross patterns, and some nice patterns, and I am for sure going to knit the Sidelines Top, and maybe the Backstage Tweed Jacket, if I can think of a way to stop it from gaping like that. A zip, maybe? That might look weird. But anyway, I already knew all that, you know? So, excitement levels are low.
You know what, it must have come on Monday. Because on Tuesday my IKEA catalogue turned up in my letterbox, and that got a squee. Yes, yes, I know. But I’m moving and all I can think about it nesting type things. I am determined to be crafty about it, but I can’t knit a bar stool, y’all.
Also, I am obsessed with mirrors, currently. I’ve had this plan in the back of my mind for a while to someday have a hallway with all mirrors of different sizes and shapes hanging along it. I must have seen it on someone’s blog – probably Casa Pinka, I think. Yup, here it is. Perfect. Sigh. I want it to look exactly like this, but I’ll settle for this. (also, did you know that there are a million billion squillion photos of the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles on flickr? All from almost the same angle, too.)
When I bought my daybed and actual bed frame from the op shop (yes, my bed is from an opshop. Is that gross? I can’t tell. The actual mattress is from IKEA, if that helps. And the bedsheets, which I’ve decided that I hate. Must do something about that.). Long sentence. When I bought them, there were two old mirrors, and I didn’t buy them because I had just bought two big things. I wish I had. I got rid of my huge heavy floor length mirror that I loved when I moved because it was huge and heavy and my apartment has built-ins with mirrored doors. But there are no mirrored anythings in this new place. So, I’m thinking a cheapy floorlength mirror, and then I’ll buy some nice hanging ones from IKEA and Freedom, and opshops if I can find any.
I remember being really obsessed with this beautiful, huge mirror, when I was in uni. It was floor length, and wide, and framed in some luxurious dark wood. It was $500, which was ridiculous money then (and now, really) and I had no reason to buy it and no where to put it, but I lusted after it like you wouldn’t believe. I used to walk past it once a week, on my way somewhere, and I would dawdle and cast sidelong glances at it. Sigh. I hope whoever bought it really loves it.
So I am in this long, drawn out process of thinking about the new place (I’ll put the table here. No wait, I’ll get the big old desk from my parent’s house and put my computer on that. And then my little desk can be a dressing table. Hmmm, it needs a mirror. Gah! Mirrors! And then I can use this shelving unit as a pantry, since there isn’t one. Or maybe that one, you can get doors for it. Oh no, will my washing machine fit in the outside laundry? What if it doesn’t! Think about that later. Should I bring my old, wrecked, got-for-free recliner chair thing? Yeah, it can go in the shed thing, or under the patio. Rabbits indoors or outdoors? Outdoors, I think, but I’ll buy a run for them so they can go on the lawn. Where will I buy it from? Hmmmm. And where will the daybed fit? I need a chest of drawers. Wait, I can use the drawers form the kitchen. Omg I can’t wait to have a bath. That’s the FIRST thing I am doing. And then I’ll go sit outside in the sun. On the lawn. Aaaaaaaah. I hope the washing machine fits. Maybe I’ll put the table in the other room…)
And I am also busy saying goodbye to my flat. I am sooooo done living there, but I know it will live in my memory as a haven. Yesterday I flumped on the bed after work, and when I looked up, I could see the bathroom from where I was lying, and it just looked so pretty. I don’t know. And this morning there were two honey eater birds right outside my bedroom window having a conversation, as I had my breakfast.
Things I will miss:
:: How it is mine and just mine and no one else’s.
:: The way the daybed is perfect under the window, and the fairy lights are perfect around the window and over the day bed.
:: The way when I sit there, I can eye off my stash and dream about future knitting.
:: The way the light slants in in the afternoon.
:: Being up high.
:: The views of the sunsets.
:: The hum of people around me. The way the afternoon brings all the sounds flooding in, and it sounds like a family gathering, a community. The kids are playing. The parents are watching from the windows and doors. The two old Italian guys are loitering by the letterboxes and talking in Italian (actually, I hate that. I can’t check my mail and I feel creepy walking past them.)
:: The way that people are friendly and greet you when you pass on the stairs and offer to help you carry things up them.
:: How convenient it is to the supermarket. That makes a huge difference when you don’t have a car.
:: How it is small. It’s easy to clean, and hard to loose things in. It’s taught me some good habits. Hope I don’t forget them.
Things I won’t miss:
:: Not being able to use the communal line because people nick things, and not being able to hang a line on my balcony because it’s against strata. Which means sheets over the doors and a hanging rack over the back of the shower. That way you get to eye off your smalls as you sit on the toilet. Classy. Everything always feels cluttered and crowded and temporary, and nothing gets aired properly and my quilt is dusty.
:: Not being able to sit on my balcony in the afternoon because of the group of guys who are always loitering on the balcony opposite. It’s a public walkway, but they’re always out there having a smoke. It’s creepy. And they can see right into my living room unless I put the blind down, and who wants to do that on a sunny Saturday?
:: Not having a bath.
:: Not being able to open all the windows to get the air through, because if I do that then people walking past can see right in. To the living room, and the bathroom. Ick.
:: Those men who loiter by the letter boxes.
:: The way I’ve now run out of room, so I can’t even rearrange the furniture. I am so ready for a change. Any change.
:: The men downstairs who like to sit on their balcony and have Bogan conversations.
:: The people next door who like to watch action movies late at night.
:: The way there are about four hooks in the whole place, and they’re all in weird places.
:: Not being able to sit on my balcony. I really hate that. I feel like the last year I’ve been stuck in a little concrete box. And most of the time that’s fine. But sometimes you just want to sit outside and listen to the world, you know?
:: Not having anywhere to hang my washing! I hate that a lot, too.
Hmm, I thought that both lists would be longer. I might have to update as I think of them. Because I’m sure there are more.
Also, I hate packing.