Handmade with Love.

 

Anchor Me

As you know, I made and took two very large quilts with me on our trip — one in my case and one in Tony’s. You know the stories behind them, but a quick recap won’t hurt.

The idea for the first quilt came about as a wedding gift for Jiffy (Jonathan) and his intended Josie. I wanted something that spoke of the sea, as Jiffy is a fisherman and spends a lot of time on the water. Josie’s favourite colour is green, so that had to be incorporated too. Jiffy, of course, would be happy with anything his mum made and sent with love.

I showed them a few ideas and an anchor quilt was selected. I didn’t promise an exact copy, but something in that direction.

I pulled greeny-blue batiks from my collection, and in April of last year, while we were in Australia for Scrub Stitchin’, Janice kindly took me to an amazing shop with a wonderful collection of batiks. A large selection of fat quarters was added to the project that day. LOL

Over the following months I was often asked if I had started yet. When I finally did make a start, I kept you all updated on the blog and you all cheered me along.

Eventually I had a quilt top — but it still needed an anchor, and things stalled a little.

Then one day it all just happened. I played with pencil and paper, made a template I liked, and cut the fabric. An anchor was born.

I wanted to keep the quilting simple and watery — which I did.

And here it is: 

Anchor Me. 

Josie particularly loved the idea of “being anchored together” when we were planning it.

As you know, when we arrived on the island, Jiffy was away sailing with my dad, so we had to wait a whole week for his return. When they finally came back, we were on the harbourside waiting for them — I already shared that moment with you. Josie was there too, waiting.

The very next day we returned to Ramsey with the quilt. I had put Tony in charge of taking pictures… please… so he made a video! 

Sigh!  

He did eventually pick out a couple of good still shots from it yesterday.

I think they both like their new quilt. And I do hope it anchors them together, happily, for the rest of their lives.

I thought when I left the island 12 years ago that Jiffy would be the child I would have to worry about. But just as we were planning to leave, he introduced me to Josie. I felt good about her — something told me he would be okay with her at his side.

And he has been.

They are good together, and they now have two beautiful children.

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Fynoderee's Fields

The other quilt, as you know, was also made using batiks. I told you the story behind Fynoderee's Fields in an earlier post.

Look here for a reminder.

Kaiy had left the island before we did and was living in Birmingham with her husband. They were planning to return to the Isle of Man for the wedding, so I thought it would be lovely to make a new quilt for her as well.

Life, as it often does, had become rather complicated for Kaiy in the weeks leading up to our trip. I'll leave that story for another day. This post is about quilts and smiles.

Kaiy arrived back on the island a few days after her brother returned. Tony and I also got to meet Faith again. The last time we'd seen her she was just nine months old, so that was rather special.

A few days later we finally managed to arrange a time to meet up and hand over the quilt.

I don't think I need many words here.

I think the smiles say it all.

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Every stitch in these quilts was sewn with love, every fabric carefully chosen, every hour happily spent thinking about the people who would one day wrap themselves in them.

The journey from my sewing room in Timaru to their new homes on the Isle of Man wasn't without its challenges, but seeing them finally wrapped around the people I love made every moment worthwhile.

An Unexpected Reunion.

 An unexpected reunion on our return to the island was an old school friend. I’ll tell you the story, and maybe you’ll understand why Sharon believes our meeting was meant to be.

About 15-ish years ago, I went off tea. I used to love tea — I lived on the stuff — and then suddenly it just started to taste wrong. No matter what I tried, more milk, less milk, more sugar, less sugar, different varieties, even lemon… nothing worked. It still tasted like sticks. I was just off tea.

I’ve since learned, or come to understand, that it was all linked to hormones and menopause.

Anyway, about five or six months ago I tried again, and guess what? I liked it! But only out of a teapot. No dunking a bag into a cup — no, it has to come out of a teapot… even though I still dunk the bag in that. LOL

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The teapot that started it all

While I was browsing an Isle of Man website before our visit, I saw a beautiful teapot with Celtic designs on it. I wanted that pot. I was determined to find it and bring it home.

In our first week on the island, I hunted through many souvenir shops and likely places, but I didn’t see it. I turned to the internet and found the suppliers instead. I contacted them via their “Contact Us” page and received a lovely, very helpful response.

And here’s the thing… I recognised the name on the email.

So I replied and told him who I was 50 years ago — my maiden name, my then nickname — and asked if he remembered me. I also mentioned I had gone to school with his niece but had lost touch.

He did remember me, and he gave me her number.

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Sharon

Sharon and I were in the same school intake when we were four years old. We stayed friends all the way through school, spent weekends and holidays together — we were inseparable.

And then somehow, within two years of leaving school on a small island, we lost touch.

I have tried to find her over the years, even as recently as 6-7 years ago, I looked on facebook.  But never could find her and eventually gave up.

And now suddenly… I had her phone number.

I was so excited I quickly sent a message, and within five minutes I had a reply. We arranged to meet at a coffee shop the next day.

We talked and talked and talked. We sat there for four hours!

Then, because the fire alarm went off in the café, we had to leave, not wanting to part ways yet, we walked along the promenade in the sunshine, still talking. We remembered school days, homework, younger siblings, and old adventures.

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And then the teapot…

Our walk took us past a gift shop, and what should be in the window? The very teapot I had been looking for. 

It turns out Sharon lives just a couple of streets away from my brother. We headed up the hill together, and hugged on the corner, promising to meet again before I returned to New Zealand.

We quickly snapped a selfie — there was no one around to help us. 

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Meant to be?

Sharon, of course, wasn’t on holiday, so between family and work commitments we only managed one more meeting before I left. But again, we slipped straight back into conversation as if no time had passed at all.

Forty years is a long time to catch up on… but somehow, it didn’t feel difficult.

I told her about going off tea and then finding my way back to it, and how I had originally been searching for a teapot and ended up finding her uncle instead.

That’s when she said it:

“It was meant to be, Lou. It was meant to be.”

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A final twist

There was another small twist that felt like a sign.

A day or two before I sent that email, Tony and I had been to Ramsey, my old home town, visiting an elderly friend. She had moved house, but we tracked her down to a building that used to be the Prince of Wales Hotel, it's now converted into apartments. 

Back in my childhood, it was owned and run by Sharon’s grandparents. Sitting in Edna's front room catching up with her brought back memories of that very same room, I remember going behind the bar for fizzy drinks and crisps and running across the road to the beach afterwards. On rainy days we’d play in empty rooms or in the guest lounge.

That’s also where I first met Sharon’s uncle, who would gently tease me and call me “Spennylegs” — a nickname his brother (Sharon’s father) had given me.

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Sharon does have a Facebook account, created only a few years ago and hardly used, but she now has Messenger on her phone and we’ve promised to stay in touch.

Maybe it was meant to be.

I sure hope so.

Getting there....

 As I'm sure you know, Tony and I have been away for a few weeks. Our long-awaited trip to the Isle of Man has now been and gone.

It was a very emotional trip, with many wanders down memory lane. Far too much happened to squeeze it all into one blog post, so here is the first of several.

We left Timaru on Saturday lunchtime. The sun was shining – what a beautiful start to the trip.

We flew from Christchurch to Sydney, then onwards to Dubai aboard an Airbus A380. It is a truly enormous aircraft, making the Sydney to Dubai flight in about 14 hours.

We had a long layover in Dubai – 20 hours on the ground. Emirates gifted us a complimentary hotel room and meal so that we could freshen up and get some sleep. What a wonderful thing to do.

We certainly tried to sleep, but it just wasn't happening. Instead, we decided to head out and explore a little.

One of the cabin crew had suggested Dubai Mall, easily reached by metro. Out we stepped into 44°C heat!

Phew... it was hot.

Luckily, the metro station was only an eight-minute walk from the hotel. It was blissful to be back inside in the air conditioning. After only a short wait, the next train arrived. It cost us pennies to make the 35-minute journey to the Burj Khalifa station.

From there we took a 15-minute walk through air-conditioned tunnels to the shopping mall. Looking out of the windows along the way, I was struck by just how clean the city is. Not just the city itself, but the metro stations, the trains, the tunnels, the mall... everything was spotlessly clean and maintained at a wonderfully comfortable temperature.

The mall itself was vast. That may be perfectly normal for some people, but for a Manx/Kiwi like me, whose experience has mostly been of much smaller places, it was quite a culture shock.

Arriving fairly early in the day, many of the shops were only just opening. Cafés were setting up for breakfast and brunch. I was fascinated by some of the clientele.

We wandered around simply taking it all in.

The UAE may be a desert nation, but it certainly isn't short of water. Everywhere we looked there were beautiful water features. I imagine they also help cool the surrounding air.

Look at how tiny those people are at the bottom of the waterfall.

This tea shop completely fascinated me. Who knew there were so many different kinds of tea?

I'd read somewhere that there was an aquarium in the mall, and sure enough, we found it.

We didn't even need to pay to see the fish. A huge three-story-high wall of glass lets shoppers peer into an enormous aquarium... right there, opposite The Cheesecake Factory.

Guess where we stopped for an early lunch?

After eating a huge meal, I wandered back to the aquarium and took far too many photos. I was determined to get a decent picture of this fellow.

We also spotted another rather interesting group of people enjoying brunch at one of the cafés.

On our way back to the metro station we spotted a very familiar name...

Marks & Spencer.

Back at the hotel we again failed to sleep for more than an hour. Jet lag clearly had other ideas for us.

So, after activating our complimentary SIM cards, Tony did all the technical wizardry and set up a hotspot from the phone so we could connect a laptop and cast a movie to the hotel TV. Before long we were properly settled in, watching Netflix and trying to get in another snooze.

We stayed there until it was time for supper, a ride back to the airport, and yet another flight on our way to the Isle of Man.

This time we flew on a smaller Boeing 777 to Manchester, where it was cool and damp – quite a contrast to Dubai!

Once there we managed to get ourselves onto an earlier flight to the Isle of Man. We had originally been booked on the 5.40 p.m. flight but instead managed to leave around lunchtime.

It turned out to be a very good decision.

Fog had settled around the island and several flights had already been unable to land, returning to where they had come from instead.

The flight we eventually boarded had left Glasgow half empty, so it was diverted to Manchester to collect more passengers rather than have two half-empty aircraft flying the same route.

Normally, the flight to the Isle of Man takes about 40 minutes.

Ours took just 25.

There was still plenty of fog, but our pilot found a hole in it... and dropped us neatly through.

We were the last plane to land that day as the fog became thicker. 

My brother Andy and his wife Angie were there to meet us.

All of our luggage wasn't.

Tony's suitcase had somehow decided to stay behind in Manchester. Thankfully, it caught up with us the following day.

Did I mention that it is now Monday lunchtime on the Isle of Man, so Almost midnight, Monday in New Zealand?

I have to say, after twelve years of living in New Zealand, the Isle of Man's roads felt incredibly narrow!

I’ll be back soon with another instalment. It may not be the most exciting read for everyone, but I do like to keep a record of our journey for us to look back on.

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My Big Bruv.

I'm staying with my brother and his wife. Today was a day out and photos were requested. Neither of us likes having our photo taken, so we thought we'd have some fun.  

Then got serious.

We've relived some old memories and made some new ones.

Thirteen years wait for this one.

Kaiy flew in to the island on Friday. 

She had a rather shy Faith with her. 

After 12 long years....

 And waiting a week for him to get home.

I finally got my arms around my boy again. 

My girl is due to land today. 

We've arrived.

Well, we made it!

The very long journey from Timaru to the Isle of Man is finally over. I've now had two good sleeps and am feeling recovered, functioning on Manx time once more.

We left Timaru on Saturday lunchtime and drove to Christchurch Airport. From there it was a flight to Sydney on an almost empty plane, followed by a very full 14-hour flight to Dubai.

By the time we landed in Dubai, all thoughts revolved around one thing: sleep.

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We had a 20-hour layover in Dubai and had booked a hotel room, hoping to catch up on some much-needed rest. Unfortunately, sleep proved elusive. Between the excitement of travelling, unfamiliar surroundings, and body clocks that had absolutely no idea what time it was, we managed little more than an hour or so at the start, followed by another couple of hours later in the day.

Fortunately, we had packed toothbrushes, travel-sized essentials, and a change of clothing in our carry-on bags. That turned out to be a wise decision, as our main luggage wasn't available during the stopover.

Dubai itself was hot. Very hot.

The temperature was around 35°C, but with the humidity it felt closer to 44°C. A short 7–8 minute walk was enough to convince me that air conditioning was one of humanity's greatest inventions. We were more than happy to step into the cool comfort of the Metro station.

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One of the cabin crew had suggested a trip to Dubai Mall, so we decided to take the Metro and have a look around.

The train ride itself was fascinating. I attempted to take photos through the windows, but the decorative patterns on the glass had other ideas. The pictures didn't work out, but the views certainly did. Dubai's skyline is something else entirely.

After another walk—this time through covered, air-conditioned walkways—we arrived at the mall. We could have used the moving walkways, but chose the old-fashioned method instead and stretched our legs.

The mall is enormous. I don't think we saw even a quarter of it.

I had heard there was an aquarium, though, and that was high on my list.

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As luck would have it, The Cheesecake Factory sits right beside one of the huge aquarium viewing panels, which is open to the public.

While eating my burger, I found myself watching sharks, rays, and countless smaller fish glide past. It was certainly one of the more memorable lunch views I've ever had.

There was something oddly relaxing about sitting there, tired from travelling, watching the fish go about their day while the world bustled around the mall outside.

We spent a few hours wandering, window shopping, and taking in the sights before eventually heading back to the hotel.

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The shorter flight from Dubai to Manchester passed in a blur of snoozes and David Attenborough documentaries. Anyone who knows me won't be surprised by that. I could happily listen to David Attenborough talking about almost anything.

When we arrived in Manchester, we managed to get onto an earlier flight to the Isle of Man, which turned out to be a very good thing indeed.

The weather over the island was dreadful. Thick, thick fog.

As it happened, our flight was one of the very few to make it in at all, and the last plane to land that day. The pilot found a gap in the fog and somehow got us safely onto the ground. I was very happy to see Ronaldsway Airport appear out of the murk on Monday lunchtime. That's Monday midnight NZ time.

Unfortunately, our arrival wasn't entirely trouble-free.

When the luggage started appearing on the carousel, my suitcase arrived safely, complete with Jiffy's wedding quilt. Tony's suitcase, however, was nowhere to be seen.

That was a worrying moment, as his case was carrying Kaiy's quilt.

Thankfully, the mystery was short-lived. We discovered that the suitcase had been left behind in Manchester, and the following day we received a phone call to say it had arrived and was ready for collection.

What a relief that was.

By then, Tony was very pleased to be reunited with both his belongings and his razor, and all of the quilts were once again where they were supposed to be.

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I did take plenty of photographs along the way, but thanks to Tony's current photo-management system, which involves uploading all images to 'the black box' at home, then downloading them to this machine, then, then, then. I haven't sorted them out yet, in fact I swore and gave up!

To be perfectly honest, it's all far too complicated for me right now.

I'll save the photographs for a proper photo-dump post once we're back home in New Zealand.

For now, I'm concentrating on enjoying my visit.

My brother already has a list of treats he'd like me to bake, so I suspect there may be some kitchen adventures ahead.

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The most important reason for this trip is, of course, Jiffy and Josephine's wedding.

At the moment, Jiffy and my dad are away sailing somewhere along the west coast of Scotland. They'll be back next week, and then the real family catch-ups can begin.

Until then, I'm settling back into island life, enjoying familiar faces, and appreciating the fact that the journey is finally behind us.

I'll be back with more news soon. Right now, I'm going for a walk. I might visit some of my old haunts. 

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From chores to treasures and back again.

 Phew — what a weekend. After seven short‑staffed shifts in a row, I was more than ready for some days off… though they turned out to be just as busy as the workdays.

Saturday started early when the first of two loads of laundry went into the machine before I went walking. Then the moment I walked back in from my early stroll I headed straight into the kitchen. A lemon cream pie was assembled, a huge roast of lamb tucked into the oven, a batch of feijoa jam bubbling away, and a chocolate slice cooling on the bench. Chooky was on Zoom, so I perched the laptop on the window ledge and had cheerful company while I worked.

Once the kitchen marathon was done, I claimed my chair and stitched hexies for a while. Then it was back to chores until our friends arrived — ready to help us tackle that enormous piece of lamb.

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And about those friends…

While I was working last weekend, Debbie and Ange went to the Altrusa craft sale — and they thought of me.

Ange gathered a bundle of batik pieces.

I’m sure I’ll find a use for them, but for now they’ve been squeezed into the batik drawer. Funny thing: I just took two queen‑size quilts out of that drawer, but you’d never know. It’s still very full. Shh… don’t tell Tony.

Debbie scored on my behalf too — a quilt kit.

The fabrics in the kit are batiks of course.

Debbie also found these two bundles of fabric.

She knows I'll use them up. 

Then came the big find. The pair of them were poking about together when Ange spotted a box tucked under a table. She pulled it out for a look… and they both agreed instantly it was a Loulee box. For the bargain price of $10, they brought home someone’s abandoned scrappy hexie project.

The papers are made from old school exercise books — little maths problems and rows of neat handwriting on the backs.

Some hexies were sewn into strips.

Some into larger pieces and there were piles of individually stitch basted hexies too.

Of course I tipped the whole lot out for a play and a tidy and then packed them neatly back into the box

A treasure, truly.

I have some incredibly thoughtful friends.

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We had a lovely evening with our friends, and after dinner we even played a game of Snakes and Ladders. Simple fun, but so good.

This morning it was back to chores — plenty to do before the children arrived. I got a chicken casserole into the oven, then we headed outside to finish the last few jobs before our big trip. The children came, lunch was eaten, more games were played, and now the cleaning up is done. Another quick trip out to the garden saw all but one task completed. That will have to wait until a trip to the hardware store.

Time at last to sit and sew. I need just five more hexies on my latest creation, and then it’ll be ready for quilting.

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2 more shifts at work.

6 sleeps.

A Different Kind of Morning Walk

This morning’s walk was a little different. It was still dark when I left the house, the kind of soft, in‑between darkness that feels like the world hasn’t quite made up its mind about waking. I turned left at the end of the road and headed down the hill into the scenic reserve.

The rain must have visited overnight — puddles glimmered faintly on the path — but the sky held itself together while I walked. Under the trees it was very dark, a deep, quiet sort of darkness that presses close but never feels unfriendly. The canopy above me turned the world into a shadowed tunnel, but the first hints of dawn were gathering behind it, just enough light to guide my feet.

The birds were waking too, shaking sleep from their feathers and chattering softly as they prepared for the day. Across the ravine, human life was stirring: warm squares of light blinked on in distant windows, and the faint smell of woodsmoke drifted toward me as someone coaxed their fire back to life.

As the daylight grew stronger, the reserve began to reveal itself. Colours slowly separated from the darkness — greens, browns, reds and gold.

By the time I climbed back up the hill and headed toward home, it was fully light. Not a bright, sunny morning — more of a soft grey, the kind of overcast day that feels gentle rather than gloomy. I’m perfectly fine with that. I did my garden chores yesterday in the sunshine, and my town chores are already ticked off.

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While I was in town yesterday, I looked out over Caroline Bay from the rooftop carpark.

The circus is in town. No, I didn’t visit.

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Today feels like a kitchen‑and‑sewing sort of day. On the sewing front, I’ve laid my crochet aside for now and picked up my hexies again.

Three of the four sides are now straight — well, as straight as a hexie can be. A little more work on the final side and it will be ready for quilting.

But first, I have a bowl full of feijoas waiting for attention. Some will become cakes, and some will head for the freezer.

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Nine more work shifts.

15 sleeps.

I might be getting a little bit excited. 

Crochet progress and counting down.........

Between work, walks and chores I've been picking away at my crochet projects. Retro Rescue is complete.

It's not huge, a nice lap throw size, or maybe even a good size to keep a little person warm in a cot.

I did a few rounds after joining the squares and finished it off with a cute shell edging.

Tada!  Done.

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Next, I pulled out a bunch of squares I made last year?

Maybe the year before?

Whenever, they have been sat waiting for me to use them. I figured I could do something similar.

After joining them I did a couple of rounds, then decided to add a round of smaller squares. They won't all be the same, I'm still using up scraps and leftovers. So this is going to be a very colourful and scrappy piece.  I have no plan regarding size or where to go after this round of smaller squares, I'll keep you posted once I decide. For now, I'm happy to have it on my lap on cool evenings. 

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We've been busy in the garden, today we cleared the small greenhouse. I picked 4 ice cream boxes of chilli peppers; they have all been diced and popped into the freezer.

The feijoas are starting to ripen, but I suspect that I will miss out on the main flush of them due to our trip. I'll let the neighbours know they can collect them. 

Our veg beds had a good tidy up and a mulch of leaves laid on them to keep the weeds at bay. 

There are one or two other jobs that need to be done before we go, but not today, time to sit and have a cuppa and pick up my hook.

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Has anyone else noticed that more and more comments now have a 'no reply' email address on them? I get my comments forwarded to my outlook inbox and usually reply from there. I generally manage to find the correct address as we have been emailing each other for more than a few years now, but it is so frustrating when we used to be able to just click on reply.

I do wish Blogger would get it's act together and stop changing things. 

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3 weeks today.

21 sleeps.

The Water Tank Walk.

Today is a very grey and overcast day, I'm so glad I took my phone with me yesterday to take photos of my walk.  I live in the burbs of Timaru and it really only takes a few minutes walking to get out of town and into rural areas. Eleven minutes sees me at the entrance to the scenic reserve if I take a left at the end of the road. If I turn right instead it takes just a few more minutes to reach green fields.  A peep through a thinner layer of hedgerow reveals equestrian land. There are lots of stables and grazing around town. The famous racehorse Phar Lap was born here in Timaru. 

As I walked my eyes were drawn to the colours of Autumn all around me and one particular hedge made up of bottle brush. Such a vivid red.

And there were berries too. 

My path continued and I saw this notice painted onto the ground...

Of course, there is always a golf course on the edge of town.

The foot path and road run right around the golf course.

I could see the pond and looked out for ducks, but there were none, I couldn't even hear them.

But there were Pukeko.

A water loving bird native to New Zealand.

I was delighted to see a whole family of them. 

As I carried on along the path, I could see the water tank in the distance and soon came upon it.

Much of the town's water runs through this tank for treatment before heading on along the pipes to our homes.

If I keep going along the road, things get a little more rural.

But I went around the water tank and along the road that divides the golf course.

Now it was on both sides of me.

On we go, straight ahead.

Soon the golf course came to an end and properties began to appear again. Some of them have rather iconic mailboxes.

In between those properties I could see countryside and waaay over there in the distance is the Pacific ocean.

Then I was back in the burbs, so I put the camera away. 

The cones?  A blocked drain, there was rather leafy puddle around it.

My walk took me just over an hour and was a very nice change of scenery.

Todays walk? It will be a half hour walk to work for a meeting, then another half hour walk home again. Nowhere near as exciting or scenic. 

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Before and after my walk yesterday, my time was taken up with chores and the grocery shopping.

Today I hope to spend some time sewing after I get home from the meeting. 

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