Recent Posts

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Google Web Fonts

I love typography.  Fabulous fonts make me weak at the knees.  Isn't the new Google Web Fonts just delicious?

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Learning New Stuff

I luuuuurve learning new things.  Especially slightly techie things.

So I've been doing a bit of website creating ... so much fun!  So much to learn!

I am so thrilled to have discovered Elegant Themes.  Gorgeous, gorgeous themes for Wordpress.  Really easy to install and tweak - even for someone as inexperienced as me.  And the support is excellent!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Planet Earth!

Source: via Kristin on Pinterest

Monday, May 2, 2011


Autumn in the Ashburton Domain
I think John Keats says it best:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
    And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
        To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
    With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
        For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. 
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
    Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
    Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
    Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
        Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
    Steady thy laden head across a brook;
    Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
        Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring?  Ay, where are they?
    Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
    And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
    Among the river sallows, borne aloft
        Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
    Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
    The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
        And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Sunday, April 24, 2011


Got something to say?  Why not say it in Llama?

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Small Moments

Am loving this poem by Dallas Clayton ...


At the counter
inside the gas station
sits a bowl of apples
with a hand-written sign
which reads:

Beside the apples:
a bunch of bananas.

They have no sign.

“Did people have trouble identifying the apples by sight?”
I ask as the woman counts my change.

She stops
then looks over the fruit
as if I have just asked the most important
question she has heard in
six months time.

She stares blankly for a long moment
then says

“I don’t know

I usually work on the weekends.”

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Coffee and a Chat

Via Pinterest (of course)

This morning Z, my lovely 8 year old nephew, offered to make me a coffee.  I gave him instructions - which he followed - and after he had reassured himself that the coffee was to my liking he rushed off to make himself a Milo so we could sit at the kitchen table and chat.

What a truly fab way to start the day!!