Tag Archives: Christmas

The End of Twenny Fourteen

J&S Matilda Bay
I love him.

John Michele Sam Matilda Bay

MSJT Matilda Bay
My Mum, Me, Mr H and my sister. My Dad was also there, but I have my eyes spectacularly shut in the photo with him, so Papa, I’m afraid you miss out.

 

If you’ve snuck a peek at my Instagram account over the last week or two you may have noticed that a *rather* special chap has made a reappearance in my life. That’s right folks, I’ve just had two quite fabulous weeks here in Perth with none other than Mr Hello himself. Our year of the dreaded LDR was ended at disgusting-o’clock on the 18th of December.

We’ve spent two weeks gazing longingly into each others’ eyes and being unrepentantly loved up, celebrating his first ever Australian Christmas (the heat, OH THE HEAT), and more importantly, spending some quality time at the beach. It’s been delightful, truth be told. We even managed to have a relaxed engagement party last night at Matilda Bay.

I’m due to head back to the UK in three weeks, and so now that Mr H has made his way back to the cold before me, it’s time to knuckle down and get to packing (how I loathe the word). I’m excited to return, but also experiencing a strange kind of emotion…almost as if….I might….miss living in Australia? It’s absurd, really, considering the fact that I have more or less spent this year wishing I was back at home in Kent, but now the time is very nearly upon me I find myself rather reluctant to leave. The heat I can take or leave, and yes I am well aware of what a terrible Australian that makes me :), but it’s really the people here that I will miss dreadfully. Which is exactly what I said about leaving Rochester all those months ago. I guess the heart and head get used to living wherever they find themselves to be.

It’s been a wonderful Christmas. It’s been an amazing 2014. Here’s to more of the same and better next year.

When in Gnome

You gotta make like the Gnomans…
A recent jaunt down to my hometown (otherwise known the the BF’s household as “out bush”) led to a surprise stop over at Gnomesville, home to over 3,000 garden gnomes.
I guess the most remarkable thing about Gnomesville is not the sheer number of Gnomes that have taken up residence there, but that it seems to be the best kind of joke – one that has been running for years and years! An unspoken agreement with strangers that this is a hilarious thing to do, and to all play along. I wholeheartedly approve.
Some friends of ours went recently and gave firm instructions to play the Not Gnome game, where you have to point out the naughty un-gnomes that have migrated there, y’know, just because it’s cooler to live in Gnomesville. You will be happy to hear that I skipped about playing the Not Gnome game with gay abandon.

The Crochet Project

Almost totally against his will, I decided earlier in the year that the BF’s Christmas present was going to be a crocheted blanket. I fancied getting into crochet, and thought the deadline of Christmas would spur me on to actually finish a craft project for once in my life (it hasn’t). Nevertheless, he’s getting a blanket one day, and he’s bloody well going to enjoy it.
I used a 3.5 crochet hook and wool purchased from Francis Iles
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As you can see I’ve gone for a patriotic theme of checkered navy, red and white. I thought about getting creative with a more complicated pattern, but then I thought to my self  “Woah, Nelly. Calm down. Take it easy”. I didn’t want to overdo it and scare myself off. I think it looks kind of great though! Starting to take shape at least, even if it isn’t in time for Chrimbo.
The pattern is a basic single wool granny square, repeated about fifty million times. It looks more complicated than it is, I promise. I had zilch experience before embarking on the mission, and learnt in an hour via beginner crochet Youtube videos uploaded by Bethintx1. These are pretty handy little videos, even if she does tell you to pause the video a hundred thousand times to catch up. We need to look past that, people.
Now, guilty as charged, these pictures are a little old now (don’t judge me) and so I’ve progressed a little further and finished off all the skeins of wool. I’m a teensy bit proud of myself, and there aren’t a lot of things that are as satisfying as finishing a skein of wool. I did also feel ever so slightly bereft though…poor me. I’ve got to repurchase the wool again, and I think once they’re through, then I’ll sew the granny squares together and a blanket will be born!

And Then it Was Over.

Merry Chrimbo y’all.

What a strange Christmas it has been this year, for me as well as many of my favourite bloggers. It seems everyone has found “Start Again 2010” to be a harder year than we had all hoped.

This Christmas was my first Christmas away from my family ever, and I think the thing I missed most was the sheer number of people that I usually spend my Christmases with. I am used to boisterousity. Or sommat. This Christmas was much smaller, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t as lovely. It was. It was intimate and thoughtful and relaxed. But it was different, and it brought home to me how much my life has changed in 2010.

My general mood has been pretty reflective for the last month or so, and prone to melancholy. I’d been feeling as though the dreams I’d had for this trip, and for my life were slipping through my hands, and that I was destined for mediocrity (the horror! The horror!). But I’ve decided, fuck it, I’m due for an attitude change. There is a hell of a better chance of making my ‘dreams come true’ (gag) in a town like London, rather than Perth. The BF and I have decided to give it six months before making the move to the capital, and then we’re going to love it sick. I went it to Lahndahn the other day for a spot of Chrissie shopping, and my heart does lift a little as the train pulls through the outer suburbs. I just have this conviction that it is where I am supposed to be now. So let’s make it happen!!

We’re also booking a short jaunt to gay Paris for Feb, which is going to be delicious. I really can’t wait to show the BF around. I want him to love it the way I love it, and for him to feel as special as I do when I am there. I want him to fall in love with France, and for it to be a part of our lives. Each day that I don’t speak French, my ability gets worse, and my fear of making a mistake (which I will do more often) gets more and more paralysing. But not to worry, if we’re there every other weekend (ahem), I’m sure my French will be tip top in no time!

That’s the plan, anyway.

How was your Christmas, was it what you hoped for?