A good time was had by all
The weekend was off to a bad start before it had even begun, with the Worst Job Interview Ever on Friday afternoon. Well… the interview was fine, but the people! I never want to see them again. (Unfortunately, I got the job. Needless to say, I’m still looking.) I spent all of Friday evening brooding about it, and probably would have wasted the weekend brooding as well, except that my mother and I had tickets to the Melbourne Craft Show. It is a three hour trip to Melbourne, so I got some brooding in on the way.
All brooding was forgotten when we reached the Show though. I had been wondering what I was going to do all day. Foolish, foolish me. When I met up with my mother at the end of the day, she said, "Next year, we’re coming for two days." No disagreement from this quarter. In six hours, I saw the following large exhibitions: decorated eggs (lots of work, but not really my thing), lace (beautiful, but not something I can imagine myself doing), freeform knitting (fabulous, and I'm going to try it), découpage (again, lovely, but not my cup of tea), two separate patchwork quilt shows (not my thing, but the reason my mother was there) and a display of designs by textiles students. After this we split up, and while my mother went off to buy quilt fabrics and do quilting workshops, I went to several other craft workshops: tips on beading from beading and cross-stitch guru Jill Oxton, computer aided design and, lastly, stencilling (not something I’m particularly interested in, but it was late in the day and my feet were sore and I wanted to sit down).
And then there were the stalls. I could have bought something from just about all of them, but I was very strong. I especially resisted the temptations of the wool shops, because my wool basket is overflowing as it is. In the end, my booty was: some decorative beads (don’t know what I’m going to do with them, but they were too pretty not to buy), two books on beading from Jill Oxton, a small needlepoint postcard kit by Jennifer Pudney (to form a pair with one I did a few years ago), a kit to make a tiny silk flower fairy and a small kurumie kit (kurumie is a Japanese art, making pictures with paper and padding). I spent Sunday afternoon making my kurumie picture.
( My attempt )
Other stuff from the trip:
All brooding was forgotten when we reached the Show though. I had been wondering what I was going to do all day. Foolish, foolish me. When I met up with my mother at the end of the day, she said, "Next year, we’re coming for two days." No disagreement from this quarter. In six hours, I saw the following large exhibitions: decorated eggs (lots of work, but not really my thing), lace (beautiful, but not something I can imagine myself doing), freeform knitting (fabulous, and I'm going to try it), découpage (again, lovely, but not my cup of tea), two separate patchwork quilt shows (not my thing, but the reason my mother was there) and a display of designs by textiles students. After this we split up, and while my mother went off to buy quilt fabrics and do quilting workshops, I went to several other craft workshops: tips on beading from beading and cross-stitch guru Jill Oxton, computer aided design and, lastly, stencilling (not something I’m particularly interested in, but it was late in the day and my feet were sore and I wanted to sit down).
And then there were the stalls. I could have bought something from just about all of them, but I was very strong. I especially resisted the temptations of the wool shops, because my wool basket is overflowing as it is. In the end, my booty was: some decorative beads (don’t know what I’m going to do with them, but they were too pretty not to buy), two books on beading from Jill Oxton, a small needlepoint postcard kit by Jennifer Pudney (to form a pair with one I did a few years ago), a kit to make a tiny silk flower fairy and a small kurumie kit (kurumie is a Japanese art, making pictures with paper and padding). I spent Sunday afternoon making my kurumie picture.
( My attempt )
Other stuff from the trip:
- a blue moon setting early on Saturday morning
- lambs in the paddocks!
- we bumped into a couple of my mother’s friends, one of whom had never met me before (I’ve long suspected my mother doesn’t tell people she has a daughter – or if she does, she doesn’t mention my age). “And is this your sister?” the friend asked innocently. Cue preening from Mother Dearest.
- sour cherry roll-ups really are sour