It was you, you put the fun in thirty funderful

I feel so spoiled! Thank you thank you each of you, for the birthday presents, you moondoggies too. I’ve been grinning like a hyena nonstop since the 29th. In fact, I’m so inspired, I have party favour gifts for each of you too:

Liz, a cashmere knitted cap (warm brown, with a pink stripe and a yellow one around the bottom) with a point at the top and and pompoms that hang off the cozy earflaps by your chin. And a matching one for that amazing Grace.

Heidi, three big clay pots, built from red soil and fired on the ground in a village a couple kilometers from the road. One is full of lumpy, ripe lemons, one holds smooth-skinned avocadoes, and the third I’ve filled with compost; it will sprout masala and basil in a few days. Do you have a sunny spot for it?

Nan, a potty-trained little bushbaby; generally she will enjoy just hanging out on your shoulder with her big eyes closed, though just for kicks, you should try taking her out at night and shining a flashlight on her;

Willisfam, a garland of pink species tulips to drape on your porch railing or over your kitchen entrance. I gave them a good big drink before I strung them, so don’t worry about them wilting—they’ve got a good two weeks in them;

Mum, an installation art piece for your living room: a round skylight kaleidoscope that throws geometric rainbows of light and colour all over your furniture when you spin it;

Jeanne, a pair of round steampunk sunglasses, dark, with metal frames yeah just like those ones! And a stunning red, printed head scarf to wear with it, just for contrast;

Martin, a great big ant farm with some of these crazy huge ant families here—the kind of ant farm sandwiched between two layers of glass, but a really big one. And it lets you see the interaction between ant species. Actually, can we share this?;

Sage&butter, a couple bushels of apple drops, rich and juicy and only slightly bruised, from that orchard near the bottom of Mink Creek. If you bring them by my place, I’ll transform them into cider and tuck them into the back of your car in green glass jugs to swig down in February when the days are getting longer;

Fig, a tall pair of soft black leather boots—just below or just above your knees? You decide—with a good sized stack of chunky heel in back and a rounded bit of patent toe up front. That stitching and detail work? Yes, the same pattern as on the entrance to that little mosque in Morrocco;

Melissa, a book contract—of your own!—and a studded union jack pen to sign it with;

Daffodil, sparkly mood lipstick (non-toxic of course. And nonstaining, Becca);

Edie, a flying carpet—soft and plush, with a cozy cushion on one end should you choose to just hover somewhere and read. If fact, if you lift the pillow, you’ll find a couple excellent books you’ve never even heard of before;

Soren, an overnight in a treehouse—but better bring your stuff in a backpack, because it’s really high and you have to climb a rope ladder. Which you then pull up behind you for total privacy! And don’t be worried about being too high to see anything interesting; there’s a big chest of bird whistles and slide whistles you can use to call them (and whatever else) to you once you get settled up there;

Becca, a stack of 1/2-yard pieces of local chitenje fabrics in a rainbow of colors and all woven from or printed on linen. With some silk pieces and velvet pieces thrown in too. Why not?





Andy wished me comfortable bedtimes and nighttime nursing, when I came home and discovered he had had this rocking chair made and delivered all without me suspecting a thing. It’s delightful and the details are perfect: wide enough seat, low enough arms, high enough back rest for my head too.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I finally finished binding (and signing!) this little quilt I started for Finn last April with mum.




(None of the fabrics are from here, but if you've a fabric habit as I do, stay tuned for an upcoming post about getting your hands on some chitenje fabric, or "colourful utility blankets" as Andy calls them.)