Peacock Pride

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It’s already been a month since I last showed you some Peacock progress!  What?!  I’m quite certain it was only two weeks ago, but the blog doesn’t lie.  Time is flying.

So here it is, after three months of consistent attention.  I am finished with all but the last chart, and when that’s done I’ll pick it up and start all over again for the second half.  I’m pretty pleased with myself right now.  Slow and steady, slow and steady.  I don’t think people tend to use those words to describe my crafting, but they have to now, mwa ha ha ha.  Expectations, shattered.  Lookee me, I’m, like, responsible and stuff.

Isn’t Penguin so cute?  She was super happy to help “model” the stole for its photo shoot.  Her missing teeth on the sides of her two front teeth crack me up.  Growing girl.

I’ve reached the point where I am getting kind of tired of this project, so there’s no magical progress moments where I feel like knitting any extra beyond my daily amount scheduled.  However, I’m ridiculously pleased with the fact that this thing is growing, so I just keep knitting my pittance of rows five days a week and then rejoice over the stole’s progress.  Isn’t it funny how you can be absolutely psyched about something, but really not look forward to the work you have to do to make the cool thing happen?  I guess that’s what we call laziness, and it explains a lot of the problems we have in the world from time to time.

This section is brought to you courtesy of the month of October.

I’ve scheduled some time off from this in November, after I finish the first half.  When I put that break in the schedule, I wondered if it was wise, but now that I’m approaching the midway point, I’m so glad that I gave myself some time off guilt-free.  Just a week or two, but it will be needed.

Yay for slow and steady!

Soothe

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I messed up, big time, with my crafterly expectations for my time in Australia.  While my goals of moving ahead on two behemoth projects were very well-intentioned, I made the foolish mistake of expecting myself to stay entirely faithful to said behemoths.

Reality check:  I am not that kind of creative soul.

You see, crafting fits into my life as an anti-stressor, alongside the things I’m already doing.  It sets my teeth on edge to sit and not do something with my hands.  You’ll notice it right away if you talk to me–I gesticulate like a drunk schizophrenic.  Talking is an aerobic activity for me.  And while I view my spirited conversational quirks as endearing and entertaining, I don’t much relish the idea of what I would look like doing the same whilst watching the television.  Enter the crafting to fill my hands with something useful and keep the windmilling down to a sane level while doing sedentary activities like media viewing, waiting for water to boil, and teaching.  The Star Spangled Diamonds Quilt (SSDQ) manages to fit into this “crafting alongside another activity” domain rather well.

Exception:  Riding in the car.  In order to have the car during the week, I must drive Michael into work.  This is a good twenty minutes of sitting time that requires me not to wave my hands about (driver safety!), hence the need for a calming craft project.  I assumed that the SSDQ would work in this scenario; but, alas, the roads here are not terribly smooth, which makes sticking a teeny little applique needle through two threads of fabric ONLY kind of hard to do.  I stabbed myself in the fingers, I dropped my needle repeatedly, my work was sloppy and uneven, Michael flinched every time I pulled the needle out of the fabric and maybe just a little too close towards his face…sewing in the car was a no.  And the Peacock Stole requires silence and concentration; and, most notably, non-movement of my body while knitting.

“That’s OK,” I thought to myself, “I’ll use the time to really talk with Michael, and really take in my surroundings.  I’ll probably grow as a person as a result of this so-called ‘inconvenience.'”

Wrong again.

I’m married to MICHAEL.  I know, kinda obvious, but all my years of crafting in the car while driving along suitably-smooth American roads had made me forget that MICHAEL likes to drive fast.  Not dangerously fast, but fast enough that I feel like I’m on the brink of an anxiety attack because he does. not. brake. when I think he should start braking.  It sets me on edge, I scare him with my gasping at our impending, bloody deaths, and no one feels like they’ve grown in any positive manner at the end of the journey.  He sees nothing wrong with how he drives, so that’s not going to change simply because my middle name is “Caution.”  (Oh, the irony of being the one with the speeding ticket in this particular situation…)

I needed a mindless, non-intricate project.  Bad.  The internet problem still wouldn’t allow for some yarn browsing, and the one-two punch of international shipping restrictions (i.e. no knitting needles for you if we know you’re trying to ship them) and credit card technical difficulties made the entire venture pointless.

Enter the Best Friend.

Oh, sweet, sweet, best friend of mine, how I love you.  If this were a long, long time ago, I would pay people to sing prayers on your behalf when you died.  Which is a gruesome thought, since it involves your death, but the sentiment is nice.  (I’m a historian, and that’s what people did to show gratitude and respect for a long time, OK?)

Denise watched my online neurotic unraveling, and decided to do something about it before I became certifiably insane.  She drove on down to her local textile shop in Washington, USA, talked to some yarnies about my spiral of descent, and walked out with yarnie-approved sock yarn and correctly-sized needles, which she then mailed to me on the other side of the world.  The woman is pure gold.

Not gonna lie, I actually cried when I opened that package.  Not full-out ugly crying, but some definite “Dude, why’s your nose running?” kind of crying.  And then I ripped into that skein of yarn like a reformed vegetarian tears into their first filet mignon.

Oh, sweet, soothing, self-striping stockinette stitch.  I can feel my body relaxing whenever I pick these up and start working.  Oh, balm to my soul.  The thrill of the mindless caressing of yarn that turns into plain vanilla socks.  I love it.  I love it, I love it, I love it.  Deep, from-the-bones, sigh of relief LOVE IT.

Which is more than I can say for my son, who prefers playing Plants Vs. Zombies for his personal relaxation:

Thirty seconds later he was in a heap on the ground, sobbing because he can’t beat whatever level he’s on at the moment.  I do not understand the lure of video games.

Now I have a mindless project to keep my hands happy as I sit in the car and consciously avoid imagining our fiery demise.  It’s also nice to take out upon the deck and put in a few rounds while decompressing after a long day of homeschooling.

So beautiful, so delightful.

So soothing.

My Youngest Daughter

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Junebug, this is how I want to remember you in your grammar school years–missing those two front teeth, face covered in chocolate, and over-the-top excited over this quilt that I am making for you.

You were talking to me two days ago about something and you mentioned this simple fact:  “I’m your youngest daughter.”  I wanted to cry because you ARE my youngest daughter and you’re in the first grade and losing your teeth and doing things on your own…this quilt makes me think about you and how fast you’re growing up while I’m stitching it together.  You’ve always been little, and the past few months have been a big ol’ exercise in realizing that you’re not so little anymore.

I started a quilt for you during your early months of life.  It’s still unfinished.  Due partly to the disappointment I’ve always felt over that unfinished blanket, I agreed to make you any sort of quilt you desired when I decided to undertake this lofty “handmade quilt for every bed” goal earlier this year.

Of course, you picked out a beast of a design, and it took a bit of self-restraint to not talk you out of the idea.  In my mind, since you never had a baby blanket from me, I’ve “owed” it to you (and myself) to make you something truly beautiful.  This quilt will be beautiful, and it lies near the edge of the spectrum of my quilt-making abilities.  I might sigh over the time-investment of this project sometimes, but at the bottom of it all, I’m really excited about this project and so glad you asked it of me.  I’d never have chosen to make something like this for myself, simply because my creative abilities are needed for such a wide variety of projects.  Thank you, thank you for this experience.

My goals for September were to sew up ten new star units, and to piece the first quadrant of the quilt.  I did piece the first quadrant:

Penguin and you are not on the best terms today, so she wasn’t too happy
about being roped into quilt-showing with you.  You’re too excited to care.

And I completed NINE star units, with the tenth ending the month as officially being “in-progress:”

There are eighteen star units in each quadrant of the quilt, so I think I’ll set a rather large goal for October:  Finish the needed star units for the second quadrant of the quilt, and also piece that second quadrant.  It’d be nice if I could attach the second quadrant to the first quadrant, but I’m not going to make that an official goal…just something to shoot for if I have the time.

This thing could be HALFWAY pieced by the end of next month!  Wouldn’t that be awesome?!?!  If I keep to the insane schedule, all the star units could be pieced and attached by the end of February.  Then there’s some little “filler” units to straighten out the sides, and then it’s attaching a straight border, then quilting and binding the thing.  (And no, I don’t know what I’m going to do quilting-wise, yet.)

Hurray for nearly attaining last month’s goals!  I burned out a little on this in the last two weeks–I only started that tenth star unit on Friday, after nearly a week’s break.  Whatever, it’s for fun.

Here’s to more crazy pictures of my Junebug next month, holding HALF of  her quilt instead of one quarter!

Another Peek at the Peacock

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 It’s been three weeks since you last saw the proud little Peacock Stole-in-progress, and I’m happy to report that what you’re looking at is what this looks like at THE END OF CHART #6.

It turns out that Chart #6, despite being a whole lot of rows, was pretty much just a eight row repeat that was easily memorized, so I took to knitting up eight rows a day for the last two weeks, instead of the formerly-planned-on fours row a day.  As a result, I’ve finished up this chart two weeks early.  Today I will venture into Chart #7, which has some stitch symbols waiting for me to learn.

The stole is at Row #204, and there’s 304 rows per side, so we’re getting close to being done with the first half!  (Yep, once I reach “the end,” I get to pick up all those live stitches waiting on the lime-green yarn and literally knit all of this AGAIN.)

I love, love, love the peacock feathers part of this pattern.  The beginning charts with the diamonds were hard for me and I despised them, but once those are out of the way, this is such an enjoyable knit.  I really like the double yarn-over rows!  The peacock feathers are surprisingly simple and I still smile triumphantly each time another row of completed feathers emerge.  Pretty, pretty!

I talked to my granny (the $500 phone call that actually cost $17) after the last Peacock post went live, and she is beyond excited that this is finally happening.  She’s never bothered me about it not happening, and I’ve apologized profusely over the years about it not happening, but both of us were eager to see for it to happen, so we’re both just a little ridiculously excited that it is finally happening and not kicking my butt.  Yippee all around!

I’ve decided that I will not add beads to this project.  The idea has been swimming in my head for a long time, but I’ve decided that beads would just be a little too much.  Given also that it’s a long rectangle, adding beads on the ends will add weight to the ends and I think it will stretch and distort the lace pattern.  The pattern is fabulous without any extras added to it, so we’re going to stay the course and knit it as written.  Goodness, do I love the color.

Chart #7 is the beginning of a bigger pattern of peacock feathers, so next month I’ll be able to show you something new.  Yippee!

Penguin’s a Paper Piecer!

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Penguin adores paper-pieced hexagons, so much that she’s taken on the goal of making her own needle case out of the shapes.  She came across a little packet of pre-cut hexagons and hexagon templates at the local quilt shop a few weeks back, and set off determined:
I think she’s doing some pretty good work, especially when you consider her age.  When she assembled this full hexie “flower,” she was over-the-moon proud of herself.  (Her “pleased” smile is so adorable!)  She could barely contain her excitement as I carefully tied off her thread, and then she asked if I’d take her picture and post it on the blog so family could see her work.
So there you go, family and friends, Penguin is officially an EPP-er!

Star Spangled Headache of Personal Liberation

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The only quilty project I brought with me to Australia is Junebug’s eventual bed quilt, affectionately named the “Star Spangled Diamonds Quilt” because it (originally) was made only from Riley Blake’s “Star Spangled” fabric collection, and it’s made out of sixty degree diamonds, pieced together EPP style.  (I expect no admiration for my naming skills on this one.)
It was to be my (ironic) Australian masterpiece, making use of my time down under to hand piece seventy-two blocks out of brilliantly American-patriotic fabric—as my time here is time without access to a sewing machine.
(Funny aside:  When I asked our “relocation specialist” if it would be possible to bring my sewing machine with me to Australia, she actually laughed out loud and asked me why I would want to do that.  “I quilt,” I replied.  “Oh,” she said, “Well, why don’t you treat this trip as a vacation rather than keeping up on house work?”
I made some sort of agreeable murmur in response, so shocked I was that she would even assume quilting was some sort of obligatory chore I had to do.  I’d forgotten, what with my past decade surrounded by the Maker Movement and amazing fellow crafters, that not everyone looks upon creative pursuits as enjoyable ventures.  And while it’s true that, based upon the state of our luggage’s contents when we arrived in Aus, my sewing machine was better left at home, I am missing it sorely every day.  House work.  Sigh.)
So I have this immense, entirely pieced-by-hand project; which is totally OK because I have no sewing machine.  The timing is perfect! 
The timing, yes; the execution…well, not so much.
While smugly pleased with how my life had ironed out so neatly to allow for all this hand piecing, and looking forward to my six months of blissful stitching, I had an entire house to pack up into suitcases and put everything else in storage.  I packed up my craft room first, seeing how I knew exactly what I needed in our new home, creativity-wise.  Easy peasy, pack it up.  First.  Then pack everything else on top of it, around it, and in front of it.  The craft room’s contents are contained in boxes in the farthest corner of the basement, with bookshelves, clothing, and furniture stacked neatly around them all.
Which was fine until I realized, after arriving in Australia, that I was fast running out of my main fabric—the mostly white prints that make up the stars in each block—and upon taking a moment to do a quick count, I realized that I was indeed short on those fabrics by more than half.  In fact, I only had about one third of the needed amount.  One third, because I only cut the same amount of white as the colors, momentarily forgetting that there are six white diamonds in each block, and only two of each color.  I have all I need (and then a little extra) of the red, aqua, and blue fabrics, but the main fabrics are short by two thirds and, even if I could remember exactly which box those fabrics were packed away in and could describe it to our house sitters, it’s in the farthest corner of my basement, hedged in by almost everything we OWN.
[Insert an entire week of silent fury at myself for being such a smug little idiot.]
So, as I came to the eventual acceptance of my situation, I decided I had a few options:
1.       Have the house sitters find my original fabric.  (Highly unlikely.)
2.       Buy more Star Spangled fabric and pay the ridiculous shipping to have it shipped to me in Australia.  (Bank account difficulties make this near impossible right now.)
3.       Put the project aside until we returned home.  (Then what the heck else am I going to do with my fidgety self while we’re here?!?!  And, remember, the timing was perfect for this project!)
4.       Buy some low volume white fabric here in Australia and just grin and bear the fact that the fabric would no longer be mostly from the “Star Spangled” fabric collection.  (Oh, heart…everything will be OK…I think.)
You see, somewhere along the journey of immersing myself into this quilting world that exists nowadays, I’ve picked up on the sentiment that staying within a particular fabric collection will draw more attention to your work.  I see all these beautiful quilts being made from single fabric collections, which guarantees perfect color coordination and theme incorporation in fabric choices.  I like that.  I also like that this kind of perfect color harmony appears to afford more pins, comments, likes, and awards.  And I’m of the opinion that this particular quilt could be a serious contender at the next county fair, what with the hand piecing and theme.  (Patriotic counts for a lot at fairs!)
With a resigned heart in regards to my quilt’s descent into obscurity, I made my way (on the left-hand side of the road) to the local quilt shop here in Bundaberg.  When the kids asked what we were doing, I sighed and said that I’d left Junebug’s quilt’s fabric at home in the States, and that we were going to try to find some replacement fabric here in Australia.  “We get to buy fabric for my quilt in Australia?!?!” Junebug squealed, “That’s SO COOL!  I’m going to have Australia fabric in my quilt!”  And she skipped into the store, eager to begin the hunt.
We found two mostly white polka dot prints straight away, although I didn’t really want to get the red and pink polka dot fabric because pink broke with the whole “red, white and blue” thing we had going on in the quilt.  “But Mom,” Junebug frowned, “the pink dots are pretty, and there aren’t a lot of them.”  Sigh.  Alright.
We came across some plaids and ginghams, but those received an instant thumbs-down from Junebug.  “What is wrong with plaid?” I asked, while simultaneously trying to smother Monkeyboy’s hands within my own in an attempt to save all the thread, buttons and embroidery floss from disastrous endings.  “I don’t know,” she said, “it’s just too square-y.”
“But it matches the whole ‘Fourth of July’ theme of your quilt,” I said, “it’s actually rather perfect.  See?  Picnic blanket fabric.”
She wrinkled her nose.  Fine, no plaid today.  Perhaps I could talk her into it at a later time.
And then we went head-to-head over the next fabric choice.  While it technically had a white background, it was a floral print teeming with not only pink, but also yellow and green.  “This fabric does not match your quilt,” I said, breathing hard as I struggled to keep Monkeyboy on my hip, “put it back on the shelf and let’s look for something that matches better.  There’s no yellow or green or pink in your quilt.  It doesn’t go.  Put it back.”  Junebug, who had spotted the bolt on her own and brought it to me with triumph shining in her eyes, cast her eyes down upon the fabric in her hands, running her palm over the print, tracing the flowers with her beautiful little fingers before murmuring to herself, “But it’s so pretty.”
And that was the moment that woke me up.  My adorable little girl, my first grader missing one of her front teeth, had found something she thought was beautiful and I was shutting her down based upon the imagined opinions of complete strangers.  The fabric WAS pretty; on any other day I’d buy a yard of the stuff based simply upon its eye candy merits.  It would look lovely in anything, but it would completely destroy the cohesive look I was going for with this quilt.
This quilt…was her quilt.  Her quilt.  Her quilt that we had dreamed about and planned out together, with her input being the highest priority every step of the way.  (Why else would I ever, EVER agree to hand piecing an entire twin-sized quilt?!?!)
Pins and ribbons be damned.
I whisked that bolt of fabric out of her arms just as she was turning to take it back to the shelf.  “You’re right,” I said, “it is pretty.  How about we get twice as much of this one as the others?”
The gap-toothed smile she gave me was all I needed to know that I’d made the right choice.
 It really is pretty.
Rundown for the month of August:  I whipped out twelve more blocks, smashing my record of five blocks in both June and July.  I now have twenty-two blocks done, only fifty more to go.  (That’s 30% done, people!  Woot woot!)
Goals for September:  I’d like to piece at least ten more blocks, and hopefully get one whole quadrant of the quilt pieced together (eighteen blocks).  I had to divide up all my “original” white stars into four piles so that the fabrics will be distributed evenly throughout the quilt; so, although I have more than eighteen blocks at the present, I can’t piece them together.  Once I get enough “new” white stars put together to add up to eighteen in one section, I can start assembling.
Linking up with:

Monday Morning Star Count @ Life Under Quilts

Rainbow Lorikeets

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We’ve moved into our “permanent” residence for the rest of our stay here in Australia.  The first place we were was only for three weeks or so while we waited for our current house to become available.  Michael was adamant that I would like this house better, which I doubted when we moved into the first house because the first house was very, very nice.  Now that we’re in the second house, I will totally admit that he was correct.  Both houses are huge and close to the beach, but this second house also boasts this:

My kids are so finally learning how to swim.

The other side of the backyard looks like this:

See that big tree bush thing in the middle?  It is a haven for birds.  There are multiple birds in that thing every minute of the day, slowly waddling along the lengths of the branches, sucking the nectar out of the weird honeysuckle-like pods that grow on it.

My favorite birds that visit are the Rainbow Lorikeets.  They usually visit in pairs, and we’ve seen as many as five at a time making their slow searches through the branches.  We eat lunch out on the patio almost every day now, just so we can watch these beautiful creatures as they eat.  Lunch has never been such a quiet event in our family, ever.  Even Monkeyboy silently munches on his sandwiches while his little eyes follow the Lorikeets’ movements.

I was trying to get a good picture of this guy’s underside
to show how colorful their bellies are, and he was scooting along
and totally bumped his head on the intersection of that branch! Hee hee!

Because this place wasn’t beautiful enough, right?  Goodness me, it’s just wonderful to just look at the world here.  You can’t get enough of the light, the trees, the colors…it’s just gorgeous.  Hopefully I can get some photos of some of the other insanely-colorful birds flitting about all regular-like each day.

These are my favorites, even when they’re squawking their little heads off at each other.  Michael tells me that there’s “Lorikeet Trees” in various parts of the city where big flocks of them go to roost at night and you can’t hear another person yelling at you right next to you because the birds are so ridiculously loud.  I’m glad we don’t have that problem, just the occasional squabble every couple of hours.  It’s worth it though, to look at those brilliant feathers.  So pretty.

Fourth Time’s the Charm!

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I schedule my crafts.  Honestly.  I sit down at the beginning of a new year and brainstorm all the things I’d like to make, keeping new babies, weddings, and the like in mind, and then I schedule my time and projects accordingly.  I’ve found that this approach allows me to finish the things that are important to me, and still allow me a little wiggle room if I finish things quicker than I had planned upon.
As you can imagine, I loaded my craft schedule pretty heavily with quilts this year.  January through May was consumed with work on the Storybook Hexagon Quilt because I wanted to be able to present it to my dear friend Rachel when her long sought daughter was born in June.  (Oh, what fun that was!  I still smile when I recall her shocked face when it was pulled from the gift bag.  That was a good day.)
And then I scheduled the summer for working on Junebug and Monkeyboy’s quilts for their bedroom, which I had planned to redecorate over summer break.  Alas, this was not to be because of the whole “let’s move to Australia” thing, but I did get a good start on their quilts.  Monkeyboy’s quilt parts have stayed behind in America; and, because Junebug is a little stinker and changed her mind about her quilt pattern at the last minute, I’ve brought along the pieces for her quilt because it’s all done by hand.  As I could not bring my sewing machine with me, having that big handwork project is rather perfect.
When I was sitting down with  my spreadsheet in January, figuring out what projects to plug into what weeks, the last halfof the year just would not schedule out.  I’d try to apply my brain to the task, but seemed to be thinking my way through a hazy cloud.  (This should have been my first clue that something out of the ordinary was brewing for our family this year…)  I wanted to do some cute Halloween crafts, begin a gorgeous Christmas quilt, maybe make a few new-baby items to stash away for when I’m inevitably surprised by one of my siblings having a new baby and I somehow missed the five months of announcements on Facebook.  But nope, nothing felt right in the September through December time slot.
I stewed on the predicament for days.  I don’t like leaving empty space in my schedule.  I know, from previous experience, that empty spaces in my schedule means zero progress on my projects.  I’m not a fan of that.
And then, a few nights later, as I was in that twilight doze right before true sleep, it came to me:  The Peacock Feathers Stole.
Perfection.  A big block of time, unencumbered with any other projects to distract me, all set aside to finally tackle and conquer this unconquerable project that has kicked my heinie three times already in the past five years.  I will knit this pattern.
And I am.  Finally:
I started working on it a week before we left the States.  My previous three attempts have never seen me progress beyond row eight, but here I am today, proudly waving  ROW 108.  I’ve never gotten even halfway through Chart #1, and here I am, firmly entrenched in Chart #6!  (Chart #6 is long.  I’ll be here for about another month…ugh.)
The secret to my success this time:  Going ridiculously slow.  This time around, I’ve scheduled myself for only five days a week, and a maximum of four rows a day.  (That’s just two charted rows, as each row is purled on the backside, easy peasy…except for those sneaky double yarn-overs that require a little concentration on the return row.)  This “only twenty rows a week” schedule boasts March 2015 as the earliest possible completion date, compared to my earlier efforts that would churn this out in two or three months.  But you know what?  It’s working, and that’s all that matters.
It’s for my granny.  When I was really starting to get a feel for more advanced knitting, we did a little online window shopping of pretty knitted things and I showed her this pattern because I thought she’d like it.  She most certainly did like it, and the proud little knitter in my heart saluted and opened my mouth to offer to make it for her.  Unsurprisingly, she accepted the offer, and I made myself busy with procuring the supplies.  Unknown to myself at the time, I was pregnant with Monkeyboy, a fact that would become known to me a day before I received the pattern and yarn in the mail, because I was suddenly so nauseated and tired that the only thing I could be was pregnant. 
Barely able to move, and super sick all day long sounds like a perfect time to hunker down and do some soothing knitting, right?  Wrong.
Because the thing about this pattern is that it’s intense.  It’s a ton of symbols, which don’t really scare me, but whoa, those pages are pretty black with ink, and it’s got funky little spots where you have to actually reposition your stitch markers in order to work the stitches correctly and then put the stitch marker to the other side of the stitch.  It’s not cool.  It kicks my butt.  Add the nausea on top of that, and yeah, Try #1 didn’t last long.
Try #2, after Monkeyboy had arrived, lasted a week.  My sleep-deprived brain couldn’t handle it.
Try #3 was destroyed by my adventuresome lad four different times in the first two days.  My nerves couldn’t take it, and I decided that I was not in a chapter of my life that could handle advanced lace knitting.
And here we are, with Try #4, and it’s going very, very well.  The Boy no longer chews on yarn, removes needles from projects, or grabs projects out of my hands and runs off through the house laughing like a maniac with yarn trailing behind him.  (All important factors to successful knitting.)  I have months upon months scheduled, thereby eliminating any due date stress.  There are no newborns or growing-into-newborns in my future, and I get my eight hours of sleep almost every night.  Perfection.

Beautiful peacock perfection.  I love it.

Watching Humpback Whales in Hervey Bay

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Penguin celebrate her eighth birthday shortly after we arrived in Australia, and she decided she wanted to go on a whale watching tour to see the humpback whales that famously stop over in the area to mate and calve.  I was able to snag a couple of good pictures from the boat, and thought I’d share:

the big, long plane ride

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Hello there. You’ll have to excuse my punctuation and other errors, because this post coming to you strictly from the voice recognition software of my phone. The pictures my Instagram account, and it looks this may be the only way that I can update the blog while we are Australia.it turns out that the internet connection we have here isn’t very good, in fact, it’s rather ancient.I’m not sure there’s much we will be able to do about it, so I’ll try my best to post updates, but…yeah.

so, yes, we are here! We left Utah on July 26 and flew to Los Angeles. We stayed a few days in Los Angeles, as witnessed by my blog post there, and on July 29th we flew out of Los Angeles to Sydney, Australia. That flight was aboard an enormous plane, eating something like 800 people, and the flight lasted 14 hours. Almost all the flights had television screens built into the backs of the seats, so the kids had no trouble at all with the long flights.

our flight to Sydney left Los Angeles at 10 p.m. And they served dinner at midnight, which three of the kids were still awake for, and then they turn down the cabin lights and everyone on board went to sleep. I got 6 hours of horrible sleep, and everyone else seemed to do fairly well with their sleep. I woke up while we were flying over Christmas Island, but because it was the middle of the night, I didn’t see anything. I slept a bit while we flew over summer and Fiji, and then most of all of us were up and just watching movies on our little screens. The flying was easy. Like, the easiest part of it all.

while I had been excited about all the knitting I was going to accomplish on our big, long plane flight, I ended up knitting and sewing nothing at all. I was simply too exhausted. I guess with the swimming, the full day at Disneyland, I’m a general all-around poor sleep, I just didn’t have anything left over to concentrate. It felt like work to pay attention enough to understand a movie.

once we landed in Sydney, it was a mad rush to get to our connecting flight to Brisbane. We had two hours to make the switch, which included picking up our ten suitcases, taking it all through customs, checking the 10 suitcases into domestic flights, and then taking a bus to our departure gate on the other side of the airport. You know, while towing four crazy children. We made it to the gate about a minute before they started boarding the plane.

we then flew from Sydney to Brisbane, and then later took another flight from Brisbane to Bundaberg. the Bundaberg Airport is tiny. It’s just one conveyor belt for all the luggage, housed in the same room as the ticket counters. Michaels company’s office is at the airport, so our car was ready for us and a couple of people from his work walked across the street to greet us when we arrived. After the enormity of everywhere else we had been, it was so odd to be in such a small place. We loaded up our baggage, some in our people mover, which is what Australians call minivans, and the majority of it on a workmates flatbed pickup truck, and then we set off for our temporary home, driving on the left side of the road, which makes me think we’re going to die at any given moment.

and so we’re here. We will live at our current house for one more week, and then we will move into the house we will be staying in until our departure in December. The ocean is one block away, and we tried to walk down there at least once a day to enjoy the waves and the sand. The kids are loving it all! It is quite beautiful, the birds make very different cause here, the wind blows through the palm fronds, and the sunshine is warm and delightful.we’ve had only a few days here but already I love it quite a bit. Hopefully I can figure out a better way to update the blog, as this way has taken me far longer than I would like to admit. Until then, I am updating and posting to my Instagram account usually a couple times a day. Unless I can find another way to make this work better, that may be the route I choose to go with Laur while we are here. I hope your summers stateside are going well, and hopefully I can resolve this ancient internet issue quickly.