Spring comes at the other end of the year in New Zealand, but it is celebrated just the same.  We could lay claim to fields of Wordsworth's daffodils.  But we often forget have our own poetry too.  What better way to celebrate a spring in full flight, than with a little Baxter, wrapped around a teacup.

Blow Wind of Fruitfulness

Blow, wind of fruitfulness,
 Blow from the buried sun:
Blow from the buried kingdom
 Where heart and mind are one.

Blow, wind of fruitfulness,
 The murmuring leavers remember;
For the deep in doorless rock
 Awaits their green September .


Blow from the wells of night:
 The blind flower breathes thy coming
Birds that are silent now
 And buds of barren springing.

Blow from beyond our day.
 The hill-borne streams complain:
Hear from their stony courses
 The great sea rise again.

Blow on the mouth of morning
 Renew the single eye:
And from remembered darkness
 our immortality.

James K. Baxter

I have heard that the poet, Kate Camp, uses the moments while the jug boils to learn poetry, committing new lines and invented worlds to memory.  I like the idea of holding it close, cupped in a cupped hand.

I found these hipped tulip shaped cups in the opp shop a while ago.  They sat there for weeks, passed over for the more traditional shapes. I had seen the wonderful designs that Melissa*of Tiny Happy was making and wanted to turn these forgotten cups into something more than forgotten, something similar to hers. 

I searched my husband's childhood book of poetry for verses to use.  The poems needed to be short, short lines and somehow linked in imagery. I ended up with a pair of bird poems.  Strangely, I ended up two of my favorite poets Christina Rossetti and Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Swallow and The Eagle respectively.  Tennyson's poem can be read here .  Rossetti appears to have written about swallows time and time again but here is the particular poem on this cup

The Swallow
Fly away, fly away, over the sea,
Sun-loving swallow for summer is done.
Come again, come back to me,
Bringing the summer, and bringing the sun.

I like the way the cups have turned out.  I am silently kicking myself for the misspelling on one of the cups.  I might even foolishly promise a prize to the first to spot it.  While I am still deciding between the thick and thin penmanship, I have learnt to leave the space you drink from blank.  The paint in this area has needed a few touch ups.

I'm mulling over other snippets and images to paint in words over other cups. Perhaps a poem to be broken over a teaset of cups, or something with imagery so veiled that my company might gradually blush as they realise what they are reading.

*I was saddened to read that Melissa will be stepping back from blogging for a while, but delighted to her she is taking up new studies.  I look forward to hunting out her byline one day soon.

I’m a few months short of 3 years writing here. A number of things have changed at home over this time – returning to work, the arrival of Miss H, birthdays, returning to work again. I have been thinking about making some changes to this space too.

I had the pleasure of meeting Abi from Home Heart Happiness today. It was such a surprise. There was an email late last night saying she was likely to be in town, and before I knew it we were sharing coffee and babbling away. It was great fun and so nice when you get on just as well in real life as you do online.


We are together in both the ANZAC and Australasian Bees. So of course I had to get my latest blocks off in the post too.

Slowly, but surely I have got there. This is my 200th post and it has taken little over 2 years. At first it was a secretive thing, with only my dearest knowing that I was writing. Now I count even my mother amongst my readers.

At first I imagined myself as a bit of a Clark Kent, but around the other way – a super hero mum by day and secret squirrel craft blogger by night. I even imagined being the Super Hero Mum would be easy. I carried on writing on the sly, not telling the friends I see from day to day, not telling my mother and certainly not telling any relatives that know anything about grammar. Now that I’m not a Super Hero Mum (never was, it was all a fantasy), the walls between my writing and life have gradually come down. My alter ego is really just me, but with a keyboard in hand. I don’t mind telling my friends that I blog.

It took 6 months to let Mum in on the secret. Someone, at a family lunch, asked what I had been up to and all of a sudden Mum was asking “What’s a blog?” She started taking a peek to see what I was making. While visiting friends, she would google seven-stitches to show them my quilts. Eventually she started to read too. Now she recommends me to her crafty friends and colleagues. This is high praise as far as I am concerned.

Even higher praise, was when a friend sheepishly admitted that she had been reading along for a while. She was reading, chuckling and calling her husband over to read too. I was delighted. Julia, you made my day.

I am excited to get to my 200th post. So much has changed. I can now proudly share these ramblings with people I see from day to day. For those I don’t tell, I'm sure my mother is spreading the news far and wide.

AS my blog break grew and grew, I was wondering if I’d ever feel like writing again. It wasn’t that I was feeling blue. Quite the opposite. I’m having a wonderful time with Miss H and E. Wonderful to the point that I didn’t want give up a moment to sit and write.

I mentioned to my dearest that I was thinking about giving it away. “But you love it” he replied. I thought about it and have to admit he was right.

I love reading about people living different lives. Lives I’d envy, admire and especially those in similar positions and predicaments as myself. Others who are finding the creativity and wonder in bringing up small children, while striving for the ever elusive creative moment for yourself.

I love to write. I find myself marvelling at everyday moments and wondering how I could ever write it down. My mind fills with mental notes of moments to the point of overflowing. Sometimes I am lucky enough to list them out and on the rare occasion, I will even get around to writing about it here.

Then there are the comments. They are all read and like the mental notes, I have every intention to reply, but so often life gets in the way. I do love them. They make my day. It can be wonderful to get a comment from a blogger I admire. But my all time favourite would have to be one of the first I received from Applique Today. It turns out her dad, back home in NZ, used to make similar contraptions to those my father fashions. We tried to work out if it was because they were both electricians. Then we realised it could be that they are both kiwi blokes. It’s the commonalities that bind.

I love to read about what others are up to. The project, the tutorials and giveaways are wonderful, but I read for the feelings. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who hoards like crazy (do you have IT too?), rarely takes photos of the OTHER side of the sewing space, or could eat a whole lemon meringue pie in one sitting. The differences count too. While we rarely write about the grittier moments we are going through, it helps to know that they too pass and can be survived.


To sum up, I decided to keep writing but to take more time. More time with my daughters, my dearest and my family. More time to have adventures and possibly catch a few of them in writing to share as well.