Schools for the Deaf in 1950s ... and Ballet

Skimming Blogger search stats is a rather amusing way to waste a few seconds.
Yet I'm still scratching my head over how someone landed on my blog while looking for 1950s deaf schools.
Nevertheless, real life has been a little more interesting than some people's strange internet habits these past couple of days.
For a start, it's been deliciously "wintery" here in Brisbane.
Snort away, I realise how utterly ridiculous autumn temperature ranges from 7-19 degrees celsius must seem to people living in climates that enjoy four proper seasons.
But it's all relative to what one is used to isn't it?  After all, I can stomp around in Docs and long sleeved shirts to avoid sun damage when it's 30+ degrees if necessary.

Early yesterday, this was the morning view from the back deck where I enjoyed my coffee.

Later in the day, my attempt to distract about 200 school girls from their soccer matches was a partial success.
It was The Stylist's special request that I "dress crazy" to come and watch her game ... I told her I would just wear my normal clothes, yet I must have looked like a neon orange field line marker judging by the sweet gasping faces.

Yesterday The Phoenix bought last minute tickets for The Stylist and I to see the ballet Coppelia last night.
So she and I got to wear fur and tights and sleeves.
And go out.
At night.
Woohoo!

I found her owl patchwork bag in an op shop this week for $4.  It's brand new and she loves it.  Win.

The wee lassie is rocking one of my 1940s fur capes and my comic tights.
I love that she can wear some of my gear now, no doubt the next thing will be shoes at the rate she's growing.

Killing time at the train station and on the empty train to South Bank.

Once we got to the Queensland Performing Arts Centre (with bright pink blusher intact) we were very pleasantly surprised that the ballet patrons had bothered to dress up for the occasion.
This good news follows sharp on the heels of the rant in my last post, complaining about the casual culture that seems to be poisoning our DNA.
Bravo to heels, sparkle, hair-dos, bling-bling and eyebrows, it was a feast for the eyes!

There was a children's story time telling the story of Coppelia and colouring-in between acts, which was lovely as there were people of all ages attending.  A little girl told her mother at the next colouring table: "I want all of that lady's outfit!"
Clearly a child of discerning taste.

Not a very exciting shot, but as you can see we were seated in "the gods" because it was a last minute ticket race, yet it didn't hinder the performance in the slightest, the theatre is so beautifully well-designed.
The theatre filled up quickly while the wonderful orchestra warmed up.

And these are some of the images I nicked off the intawebz of the Queensland Ballet's performance coz obviously no pics allowed during the performance and rightfully so.

I hope you have a fab weekend, tomorrow's Mother's Day here and we've got a full house tonight. 
Baci, D xox

There's a War in My Mind

There are a number of ways to grow older.
I've chosen an unfamiliar path, an exhilarating one I feel most comfortable travelling along.
Until now.
It's not an unfamiliar feeling.
I vividly recall the unwelcome surprises adolescence visited upon my body ... changes I wasn't ready for and lashed out at without success.
It happened again during pregnancy and post-birth with #1 Son ... stretch marks like welts disappearing into secret places.
More physical and emotional changes went with the second, third and fourth big babies I carried, birthed and fed.
Then a lull, a time when walking, running, yoga and most of all dancing, became my joys.
Then I gave up alcohol and watched my bloated face disappear and cheekbones reappear.
More recently I've liked the creases around my eyes and neck ... now they are deeply etched and I realise yet again, I am unprepared for the next stage of permanent physical changes that come with ageing.
The creases and lines are there on "good" days and "bad", while although menopause hasn't even started knocking at the door, it's something I'll need to start thinking and reading about.
Dear reader, this is not a fishing expedition.
I need no reassurance.
I'm just putting it out there ... I'm talking about ageing, toying once again with the concept, getting accustomed to looking older than I did a few months ago.
And as always I tell myself and anyone who will listen, if we're lucky we'll get to live to a ripe old age.
Life is beautiful.

Yesterday I took my neck crepe to the Salvos where The Stylist snapped off a few pics of her happy but extremely tired Mama.
Fatigue seems to be a permanent state for me these days.
Again ... not complaining, it's just a fact of life.

Black sequin beret, 1950s layered slips, Papua New Guinea bilum bag, necklace and earrings - op shops

Leather jacket - retail sale

Layered tights - Sock Dreams

Miss Camel Toe t-shirt - Ms Mink

Shoes - Dolls Kill sale

Later that day, I took The Stylist to a birthday party where she dressed as Bat Girl.
I guess that makes me Bat Mama here.

Careful of those hooves!

Like Mama's, they've got some real leverage and she seems relieved at being taught to accept growth spurts as a means to becoming stronger.

I hope growing up is easier for my sons and daughter, than it was for me and my peers.

When her cape didn't work out, I chopped the back off one of her brother's t-shirts, leaving the neckband intact so she could pull it over her head.

And I painted a pretty lame upside down bat and told her it was asleep - heehee.

My knitting skills are at the uber-beginner stage, but I made these two pairs of fingerless mittens for our cold mornings.
They're brilliant for using with touch screens.
Here's the super-easy tutorial to make them.

I thought I'd show you my hair in the wave clips I used to create today's 1930s-style hair-do ... with extra pinkage!

1930s Hair with Wave Clips from Desiree on Vimeo.

I do hope you've enjoyed a spectacular weekend, every one of you!

Baci,

Desiree xx