I’m back! Remember me? It feels like the world shouldn’t have gone on without me while I was virtually away, but I know that it did. What did you all do while I healed and happied? Knit and spun and cooked and sweltered in the blazing sun? Read good and interesting books? Harvested tomatoes and put up quarts in your neatly arranged pantry? Poured over my boucle article in the Summer issue of Spin Off? That’s what I imagined while I spent innumerable, immobile hours nursing and getting my body sewed and stapled.

I’m thrilled to be upright and smiling again. Now I’ll start catching up, reading blogs and Raverly. Oh, internet friends, how I missed you.

This isn’t going to be a proper update, there’s too much to include to not overwhelm this postpartum gal, but rather just a short snippet as I stumble my way back into blogging.

How about a few photos just to reintroduce everyone?

First, the most gorgeous SweetPea ever! Three and a half with the sweetest little voice and most loving disposition. She’s starting to read and draw amazing things. She also just began piano lessons and apparently, a new love affair with a certain feline. She can’t get enough of her new brother.

Next there’s the newest, Biscuit. Besides being an expert at all things bodily (pooping, projectile peeing, and nursing), at the ripe old age of 8 weeks he’s smiling and starting to rock and roll over. He’s also mastered bringing big burly bikers (my pop) to their knees. And no, I don’t actually style his hair like that, boyfriend rocks the natural faux-hawk.

Of course, what would this family be without the first? Little Bit, handsome and brilliant, an 8 year old to melt hearts and loves his siblings. He’s enjoying his violin (suzuki), tennis, and fencing lessons. Recently he got to spend a week with his like-aged cousin from the West coast and laments that his best friend lives all the way in California. He spends countless hours reading with short breaks spent constructing designer bionicles. He recently sent Lego a scathing letter lambasting them for discontinuing the line for their new line which he referred to as nothing more than poorly constructed bioncles and let them know that he would never purchase one. He got a response but it just thanked him for being such a big fan.

Of course, there’s also me and Kitten, but who cares about the folks when the kids are so cute?

My three children (Little Bit, Sweet Pea, and the newest - Biscuit). Hard, no, incredible to believe that I created these three amazing little peanuts. The tiniest of us was born at 1:15 pm on Wednesday, June 16th, by a c-section that while not planned on or desired, went just fine and resulted in a lovely 8lb 9oz, 20 inch boy that stole my heart in a second. My dr. was amazing (as he has been through the whole pregnancy) and the support team was as well. Kitten watched him emerge (I’ve got pictures if anyone is interested in a bit of sweet gore) and then stayed with him the 30 minutes (bath and warming) until he was brought to me. He nursed right away and hasn’t stopped since.

My dr. let us come home early so we both came home on Friday afternoon and the family has been relaxing and getting to know our newest member since. Saturday Kitten had to remove the 21 staples in my abdomen, which was creepy but fairly painless. He did a great job at something I wouldn’t have even tried. Yikes. The kids are in love with Biscuit and who could blame them, he’s lovely and sweet and full of funny faces. I’m up and walking, off my pain medication (which was just Ibuprofen), and feeling sore but happy. However, this is about all the post and I can muster. I plan on taking the rest of this month to just recover and bask in my wonderful family which I’m so lucky to have, both the kids and the partner. I’ll write and spin next month.

Oh yeah, can you see the little hat and booties? Those are out of the yarn I spun a few posts ago. Little Bit thought they were going to be far too small but they fit Biscuit just fine.

Yep, here I go. To the hospital (research for my local friends I haven’t called). This is it. See you all when we’re a family of 5 instead of a family of 4. And until I get back, in the immortal message of that great wordsmith, Vanilla Ice, keep waxin’ chumps like candles.

And so I give you the last leg of the Australian trip, a trip that will forever be one of the best times in my life.

Leaving Melbourne was hard. Not only did I love the city but I adored all the people that I met. Also, we’d be gone from home a bit over two weeks and we were both tired and if the plane was pointed at the United States, neither one of us would have felt like we missed a single thing.

But we would have. Sydney is a gorgeous city. Seriously. These pictures don’t do it justice. It’s glossy and perfect, like a magazine come to life. Like I said, Christie and I were exhausted and so didn’t feel the slightest twinge of ugly-american-tourist when we bought our tickets for the big, red, roofless tour bus that hauled us around all of one day. We got to sit when we wanted, walk when we wanted, hear lots of history and see everything! Of course, there’s the famous bridge, the opera house, which by the way, the guy that designed it is the only designer to be alive when his/her building was inducted as a World Heritage Site, how cool is that? He must have been so thrilled. Oh, and next is a picture of the bats that inhabit the Queen’s botanical garden. There are something like 10,000 batts that live there. They’re fruit bats so I had to call the kids and let them listen to the batty noises since both have grown up reading Stella Luna, a story about a fruit bat. We actually spent a good deal of time in the Queen’s garden. We paid $10 to take this tiny kid train all around (I know, you can go ahead and laugh at the image) and got off every few stops to sit and knit under the trees while the Cockatoos screeched and flew about us. Pretty perfect. Oh, the next picture…I told you we were tired. We also took a 2 hour cruise on the harbor, which was gorgeous and if I ever have an extra 33 million, one of those houses is mine! Maybe the one next to Russel Crow’s. The last picture is just a shot of the street. I wanted to show the kids how busy it is All. The. Time. Really. I’ve lived lots of places but never have I lived somewhere that is just so bustle-y. I guess it’s a bit like NY, like that.

We also did lots of other stuff. One of my favorite memories of Sydney was going to this amazing all vegetarian Indian Buffet. You pay $20, eat all you can and then retire upstairs for a tiny showing of a movie. It’s a new movie every night and when we went it was Where The Wild Things Are. However, it’s not in a theater, it’s above the dining room, which is above the meditation room, and there’s a full size screen and the room is tiered but instead of chairs there’s futons with big red, plush pillows. You take your shoes off and lay down. There were families and couples, all getting cozy. It made me feel a bit lonely and I wanted to cuddle with Christie but was too shy to ask. Heh.

When it was time to leave the glittering city behind, Donyale, a spinner who quickly became a friend and also an amazing textile artist (more on her work in another post), made a tortuous trip into the city to get us and take us all the way to the blue mountains, so named because from a distance, the Eucalyptus tree oil gives off a bluish hue. Dony was excellent, definitely PLU. We made the 1.5 hour drive and found the little cottage we were to stay at. The cottage, along with the workshop venue, is owned by nuns. The two are about 5 minutes by car and everyone else from the workshop stayed at the venue while Christie, Dony and I stayed at the little cottage behind the nun house. It was a lovey setting but I have to say, the nun was a bit of an odd bird. I’m sure she felt the same about us, honestly. When Dony dropped us off, having to go home the first night and come back later, I think the nun was a bit nervous. Not for the usual reasons that nuns are nervous around me — the constant screaming and cussing I do. Okay, not really, mostly the tattoos. But I think this nun was put off that we were two american women with no vehicle, no food, and one of us had clearly had sex. But all went well. The cottage was a delight and backed up to beautiful grounds with small meditation huts (see picture number 4 below for our backyard). The rest are pictures of the Blue Mountains and us enjoying them.

Of course it wasn’t all fun and beauty, we had a workshop to do, as well. Okay, just kidding, even that was fun and beautiful. Friday we got to sit in on a bit of Michelle’s (wooldancer) batt lab and watch her do her magic. There was also a felting tutorial done by an amazing felt artist. I lucked into one of her awesome creations which I’ll have to photograph and blog soon (and find the link to her site), it’s worth it! But on Saturday morning, it was business as usual and as usual, business was awesome. Michelle (wooldancer) did a great job organizing this workshop, the space, the sleeping accommodations, the meals, the everything. A packed house led to lots of spinning, laughing, and learning. The diversity at this workshop was very pronounced and I loved meeting everyone. The sweetest Australian chickee even brought me a baby wrap! Even a roving (heh) reporter for Yarn Magazine was there! Take a look.

And then our trip was over. All in all it was the best trip I’ve ever taken and I thank Mandie so much for making the whole thing happen. We’ve already got plans for another Australian workshop tour! Next year, I think. New places, new spinners, new workshops!

The day after that workshop found us running to catch our connection, bags in hand, tears in eyes, hoping that we’d catch the plane and not drop a baby in the meantime. Of course, if I’d known then what I know now (that this baby will forever live inside my wormb), I would’ve run much faster. And when we finally arrived home I got to confound my kids by telling them that I was so hungry because I hadn’t eaten since lunch tomorrow. Oh, and the time difference jokes just keep on coming…

In case any of you thought my radio silence was because I’m too busy holding a tiny bundle of sweet smelling baby flesh, it’s not. It’s because I’m too busy trying to roll over, or get out of bed to pee for the 28 time in one night, or you know, walk across the house without having to rest between rooms. I’m due! Come on, baby! Get out! I’ve felt like it could be anytime for weeks. I’ve been sure, absolutely positive that it’d be early.

Now? Nothing. I saw my doctor today and nothing. He checked me, and nothing. The baby is fine but still super high with no cervical action. No dilation. No effacing. Absolutely nothing to indicate that he ever plans on joining up on the outside.

And he’s huge! Did I mention that? He’s a huge baby.

Argh.

So that’s disappointing. Not to mention the slight humiliation at having to disrobe in my giant state and have the doctor, look with the full power of the summer sun shining through the window, unhindered by any type of curtain or blind, at what used to be my tiny bits but are surely more giant then they’ve ever been.

I mean really, when you think about it, that job can’t be the most pleasant — seeing all those untended gardens. When you’re this huge, there’s not a lot you can do to straighten things up in the nether regions. I mean, I haven’t even seen my nether regions in months, much less trimmed, weeded or made paths.

I felt a bit like I should say something or you know, apologize. But as I sat there, a thin sheet covering my lower half and thinking through the scenario where I would say something like Sorry about the Vulva, haven’t seen it in a few months, don’t really know what condition it’s in but I’m sure it’s not pretty, or perhaps something simpler like it doesn’t usually look like this, you know…, in my mind I just couldn’t come up with a response from him that wouldn’t be totally awkward and inappropriate. I mean, what could he reply? Oh, don’t worry, it looks great, or No, it’s fine, I’ve seen worse, or I like the cave-lady look, or That’s just my style, (wink wink). See? Nothing he could say.

So I decided to not say anything either. Why put us both in a weird spot?

Maybe a sign. Yeah, next time I’ll hang a little sign down there:
Please excuse our mess, we’re remodeling.

I may have found my most perfect place on Earth. It wasn’t entirely clear to me the first day, but that had more to do with our accommodations for the first night — a double room at a hostel. It was on the 6th floor, through 2 sets of double doors, down a corridor and in a teeny tiny room with nothing but a locker and a bunk bed. Yes, a bunk bed. Did I mention the room? It was easily 5 feet by 7 feet, and I may be being generous in memory. Now think about Christie and I, we both eyed that top bunk warily. In the end I ended up in it but only for a few hours when the stifling heat and lack of air became too much to bear and I found myself plastered up against the door crack praying to whoever might be listening for a small draft to waft through and fill my lungs with something other than hot and stale. And then I crawled into bed with Christie. None of this story is an exaggeration.

It was that bad.

We wondered how the other guests stood the night until we woke up and found the place littered with beer and wine bottles, cigarette butts overflowing out of the coffee cans conveniently placed every 2.5 feet. They drank themselves into a stupor and didn’t notice the inhuman sleeping conditions. Now while that was an option for Christie (that she immediately rejected) me being pregnant, it was not an option for me. What was an option was for Christie and I to haul all of our stuff back down the six floors, and start off down the street in hopes of finding new digs. Almost anything would do.

What we found, for $30 bucks more a night (the first place was $50 each a night), was heaven. Totally a transforming experience. Barely a block away we found Punt Hill Hotel. Our room had a bedroom, an actual bathroom, a kitchen, closets, it was like an apartment and Christie and I never wanted to leave.

We did leave though, because Melbourne is a city with much to see and do and we saw and did much.

Above is a little tour of a few things we did. First there’s the wildlife tour we took. You can see me feeding tiny kangaroos, seeing the beautiful beach, getting up close and personal with one of the cutest creatures ever! walking withing arm’s reach of a wallaby, peeking in the tiny cubbies where the magical fairy penguins live (we also got to watch them make their nightly run from the beach to their burrows, lit by moonlight and their tiny reflective bellies), there’s me on a boat, because it’s such a great and cheap way to see the city, a quick pic of Lord of the Fries, a vegetarian fast food burger joint, me eating at one of the many cafes that line the tiny alley-way arcades and which served delicious fresh juices and yummy food, and finally giant, pregnant me at the old Melbourne Gaol (jail).

It was a busy and full couple of days, we did things I don’t have pictures of, but will remember always. Oh, and we mastered public transportation, which is so important when you’re traveling. I always feel that if you can master that, the city is yours. And Melbourne was ours.

Of course, that was only half of our trip. The other part started friday afternoon when the lovely and charming Janet picked us up during rush hour traffic in her husbands contractor truck to drive about 90 minutes outside of Melbourne to Camp Morton for the spinning workshop. Even though we were a bit cramped, the three of us, in the front seat of the truck, the ride was a joy, as anytime spent with Janet (and Christie) is. It was also peppered with funny phone calls from Mandie (Ewe Give Me the Knits), who together with Janet, organized the workshop (and much of the trip, in general). I’d yet to meet Mandie, though we’d spoken many times on the phone. I couldn’t even imagine what she’s be like in person, I only knew that she’d be awesome.

I wasn’t mistaken. As we drove up to the tucked away boy scout camp that was to be our spinning base for the next 3 days, I saw a wonder — a crazy-haired woman in long flowy clothes carrying bags and boxes of fiber. Christie and I both thought the same thing - we have come home. Here’s a picture of Janet, Mandie and myself and also one of Christie in front of the flying fox lines at Mt. Morton.

The space was amazing. Christie and I both had our own cabin, attached by a bathroom and only a few steps from the main spinning hall and the dining hall. Friday night was spent eating pizza, perusing the little fiber market that was set up, and getting to know the 40 spinners that were there for the weekend. Yes - 40! I’d never taught more than 22 but thankfully I had Janet, Mandie, and Charlie (who has lovely bunny fiber and yarns, btw) there to help. The spinning went off without a hitch. I’d say one of the best workshops ever. The spinners were great and everyone got just about everything!

I could go on and on about the workshop but it’d all be the same - just different ways of saying how awesome it and the spinners were. There were spinners there from all over — Tasmania, Perth, other faraway places I can’t remember but sounded awesome. Everyone was so generous. I’ve barely sorted through all the wonderful gifties that stuffed my suitcases when we left. I’ll post them as I spin them though, for sure! They are some of the most beautiful fibers I’ve ever seen/held. Also, there, in the same workshop, were my youngest and oldest ever workshoppers!

All in all it was the best workshop ever.

I also learned a few more Aussie sayings. Remember shit it in? Well, apparently at sporting events someone will yell Did We Win? and the crowd will respond WE SHIT IT IN! So at the end of the workshop, I asked the same question and a resounding 40 person wail came back to me WE SHIT IT IN!

Because we did.