So I splurged and bought some more Cascade 220 in various shades of cream and blues to make a blanket pattern by Helen Shrimpton called ‘Heart of Friendship’ (pattern on Ravelry can be found here: http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/heart-of-friendship). This will be my work in progress during the uni semester, which has officially started today.
I have the centre of the middle block done so far, and the pattern is bubbling a bit at the moment but I’m sure it will flatten out in the later rows. My sister is also crocheting this pattern, and is only a few rows behind. Her colours are gorgeous too – I’ll try to convince her to send some pictures for me to display 🙂
It’s been snowing quite heavily on the mountains here in Tasmania over the last couple of weeks, and since my step-daughter has just arrived for her mid-year holiday from Darwin, we bundled ourselves into the car and went up Mount Wellington to have a play in the snow. It was awesome! One can never get sick of seeing snow 🙂
The last ten days have been, well, AMAZING. My sister and her family stepped onto Tasmanian soils for the very first time, and we’ve spent the last week gallivanting across the countryside seeing amazing national parks and secret crystal white beaches. I’ve had an absolute ball and it will be a sad day on Friday when she finally has to fly home.
As you may be aware, she began to get jealous of my crocheting exploits and starting crocheting herself a couple of weeks ago. Well, we’ve had a lovely time in the evenings over the last week working on our granny squares for the Crochet-Along that we are involved with. My latest finished square is below, although the green yet again looks yellow in this photo (this is what happens when you don’t wait to take photos during daylight hours!).
I loved the granny ripple pattern, and can totally see myself making a whole blanket out of it for my nieces. My great aunt made a granny ripple blanket for both my sister and I when we were babies, and we both still have the and use them everyday (I actually curl up under it on the couch and crochet!). I’d like for my nieces and children (if I have any in the future) to have that same family connection.
Another morning on the farm provided ample opportunity to take photos of evidence that Spring has finally arrived. The garden is full of gorgeous colours and scents, it’s hard not to be happy when surrounded by such things!
My local fruit and vegetable store sits next to a beautiful field of Daffodils, which of course are going berserk here at the moment. These and the wattle trees flowering everywhere are just covering the landscape in yellow – driving through the mountains to get to the farm and I almost drive off the road trying to get a glimpse of the yellow trees scattered up the mountainsides…
This morning I got up early (well, okay so it was 9:30am but since I’m usually comatose until 11ish on the weekends, 9:30am was AMAZING) to go and have a late breakfast with my dad, who lives on a 40 acre farm about twenty minutes from my place.
I took my youngest dog Luna, who is the least likely of my two dogs to run for it and never come back when she’s off the leash, and I decided she was due some one-on-one Ash time.
I hadn’t been to the farm for a while, so once we arrived Dad took us for a walk up to the top of the farm (the property is on the side of Huon Valley) to show me the improvements he’s done. Needless to say, Luna ran around so much that she promptly made herself sick. We had a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs (laid that morning) and then I proceeded to harvest the vegetable garden and bring home an impressive collection of leeks, silverbeet, spinach, broccoli and lemons.
I can see a leek and spinach quiche, and lemon pancakes in my future…
My first Tasmanian bush walk was a huge success on the weekend. The weather decided to play nice – well, it was overcast but at least it held off from bucketing down – and my partner and I had previously discovered a walk close to our house that we had down on the list of things to do one weekend. So, feeling particularly enthusiastic and active for a Sunday, we started down the rocky overgrown path into a deep valley.
Within five minutes we were completely submersed in the wilderness; not a sound could be heard except for an occasional bird call, the gentle murmuring of the trees in the breeze and a ever so soft hint of water from far below in the valley. It was magical, after a week of rush and craziness in the city.
It was quite a hike down to the water, but there was plenty to see on the way down – a shelter at a lookout point, small caves in the mountainside, amazing shades of moss and fungi clinging to old tree trunks, and wildflowers of many shades of cream and pink covering the understory.
The waterfall itself was about ten metres high, cascading into an inviting natural rock pool before continuing down the creek through the ferns and boulders. I could have stayed there all afternoon – perhaps I will next time.