The iconic "Pub" has been in my mind a lot lately since we've been working on the basement renovation and as things change down there, it's no longer a vintage wonderland and becoming more of a multi-use and functional space that will work better for not only my needs but those of my husband as well. So why not call it a "pub"? Since there is a bar down there and all. And I cast my mind back to the pubs of my youth and really, am not ashamed to say that I've been into many - from my childhood years being toted to pubs with my parents, to my wicked teenager years of sneaking into pubs that were out of town and then as an adult who spent many quality weekends at pubs with friends. And now as I toodle into my middle aged years, I still love a good pub stop on trips home for a feed and a frothy.

So let me give you a brief rundown of the pub as it stands and as it was. I could delve into the history of them but I really don't have all day so I'll give a quick skim of the background and then touch on a few memorable moments where pubs were a big part of my life on both a social scale but also for work. Yes, I worked in a pub. Or two. Actually, I think three? 

The classic Australian pub has been around since the beginning of time (don't ask what time that was but lets say late 1800s for shits and giggles) and no country town was complete without one. These were establishments for travelers and wanderers to stop at to get a refreshment and a solid nap in before hopping back into the saddle and heading off to their next destination. I guess you could say that they are the equivalent of a tavern or an inn? A bar for the drinking, a spot to eat and rooms to rest. Even some of the smaller towns with a handful of houses would have a pub which was often a community gathering place, and if you happened to live in a larger town or even the city....well that meant options and more importantly, the grounds for a great Australian Pub Crawl.

My earliest memories of pub start with The Jamieson Courthouse Hotel which is located in the town I grew up in - a small town country beauty that had a classic two story design with attached motel. Bar on one side, eating area on the other, a separate entry with foyer that led to the downstairs rooms and stairs that led to the upper part of the accommodations. This is where the adults of town would meet to socialize, drink and have their fun and us children would be given the freedom to romp in the dining side where there usually were games such as pinball, Atari, pac-man and such. We'd get to have a counter meal (pub fish and chips was always my favorite) and then we'd just play and do our thing until it was time for our parents to take us home. I remember sometimes taking naps under tables, the excitement if friends from out of town were visiting and overall, it was just a part of social life.

Oh gosh I really could be here for HOURS just chatting about this one pub alone. From childhood to teen years, to adulthood. The time the pub burned down, the new owners son starting at our school (we had huge crushes), learning how to play Two Up on Anzac Day with the local copper giving us the tutorial. The calendar on the wall marking when each teen in town turned 18 and were legal to drink in there (that was a LONG wait for all us kids) and of course my first real job there when I turned 15. I'd left school and didn't really have much on the horizon other than a steady gig of baby sitting. I recall walking past the pub one day and noticing one of the local gents unloading the beer truck, he was a wiry old timer whom we all knew and he was struggling with the slabs of beer so I offered to help. By the time we were done, the pits of his elbows were smeared with blood from lifting all those slabs and I had bruising myself in the same spots. A few hours later, I mooched into the pub to find my Dad and to try and scab some money when the pub owner handed me a $20.00 for helping that day and then offered me a job.

Well! I thought I was just the ducks guts and started off helping clean the accommodations, graduated to helping clean the bar area and eventually made my way into doing some evenings helping in the kitchen. Oddly I enjoyed it all and never minded the work, I enjoyed the mixed bag of people whom I worked with, I enjoyed the morning battle with Bluey over what music we'd listen to as we did our work. The only part I did not enjoy was the cleaning of the rest rooms since there was usually a solid spew on the floor in one of the stalls and sometimes the motel rooms would be left in a rather feral state by out of town guests.

This job only lasted a few months during that summer and I would get up in the mornings, go to work, get things done and then wrap things up by noon and then had the rest of the day to bludge down by the river. But all good things must end and once I hit 16, it was time to get a real full time job so I said my farewells and started working at a pharmacy at the larger town nearby.

Honorable mention and something to note, while this was our main pub in town, for those feeling adventurous, there was also the Lakeside Pub a few miles out the way, the Kevington Hotel a further distance in the other direction and then beyond that, there was the Gaffneys Creek Hotel and then The Woods Point. I've wonderful memories of each of them, some I'll drop in here further down this post.

So time passes, I eventually turn 18 and am legally allowed to drink in the pub and oh what a shame, my birthday just so happened to fall near a long weekend! Time to PARTY! What a weekend that was and of course it was celebrated at the Courthouse Hotel. Not longer after, I moved to the bigger town I was working in and well, there was more than one pub there so obviously there were good times to be had!! Some I had already visited when I was 16, yes, it wasn't uncommon for us to sneak into the pubs since people there didn't know we were underage. I remember when I was doing the debutante ball, my deb partner and I would piss off into one of the pubs in town for a few beers and a couple of games of pool before dance practice which made the whole process somewhat bearable.

Over the years after that, well, a lot of ground was covered as I moved to a bigger town, then to the city. It was a skill, to sniff out the better pubs that had more action and which places has just the right vibe. Sometimes we'd go to pub for a big night out, sometimes just for a counter meal and a few beers. Sometimes there would be a band, other times it was about commandeering the jukebox for the best music. For a brief time, I lived in a coastal suburb and worked at a pub there in the restaurant area - that was a great old pub with more of a modern concept of smaller bar area, larger eating area, no accommodations, drive thru bottle shop at the back, night club upstairs and an area for the pokies beyond the restaurant area. Loved working there too but being a part timer, it was time to get real and get a job that offered better hours and a steady wage. Off to retail I went.

There are so many more things I could type, so much I could say but then again, that would maybe incriminate myself and sometimes it's best to leave a little mystery right? HA! And now here I am, remembering all those days, all those pubs, some I'll never forget and some I'd rather not remember. And if I can just bring a little tiny bit of that feeling into my basement, then that will have to tide me over until I go home again. The basement is no longer a vintage wonderland and I stopped wanting it to be that a long time ago. I realized I wanted to be enjoying my life and living my life - not digging around hunting for remnants of other peoples lives. I wanted to create memories, not sift through others.

Which brings me to OUR pub. Our little corner of paradise in the basement, shelves of gin and wine, waiting on the day of completion so I can invite dear friends over to sit and spin a yarn, listen to the tunes of our younger years, play carpet bowls and create memories for us to enjoy. What we'll call our little pub is yet to be revealed and maybe I'll keep it classic, maybe I'll get creative. Who knows?

Before I wind this up, I must admit that while I've cried very little since the pandemic began, I absolutely howled a million tears when I discovered that one of our old gems, The Kevington Pub had to close the doors for good since it was no longer feasible for them to remain open. I rubbed the scar on my knee that I got after falling down in the middle of the road outside that pub when I was a little girl (no I was NOT drunk) and I just cried tears of sorrow for a place that's always been in my heart. Same for the one place in Chicago that had that essence of an Aussie pub - when this pandemic forced them to shut their doors for good, I sobbed (on a happier note, they eventually found a new location and have since relocated and reopened so if you happen to be in Chicago, be sure to google Pippins and pay them a visit!) - ah what does it say about me as a person that my tears fell for something like pubs and bars closing? I'm sure people could have a field day with that analysis. 

And now I wrap this up and get back to work but before I do, below is a photo of the bar area in the basement as it currently looks. Mid renovation, so much more work to do but it will all be worth it in the long run. Until then, I raise my glass to you and to all the pubs I've loved. Cheers!

Sam.

'Oh it's-a lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night we'll hear the wild dingoes call
But there's-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer' - Slim Dusty
 

I think if I was going to get into the nuts and bolts of it, while I consider myself a photographer and have the years under my belt - it's not the total sum of who I am and sometimes I need to step back and live in the moment without a camera glued to my eyeball. And there has been some lessons learned over the course of a few years that made me realize there is a need for that separation, to be present and absorb life away from a lens. Then I also have to recognize the times when I really need to be behind the camera because sometimes it's an act that brings me more peace than anything that could be prescribed.

So let's wind the film back a little bit and go to the beginning, to when I first thought about photography and what it meant to me. How I came to be where I am now - and trust me, it's not been an easy road to follow! In an era of digital cameras and cell phones, anyone nowadays will call themselves a photographer and pimp themselves out to take photos of people in sunflower fields or grab some snaps and call it a shoot. And I feel for the true folk of photography, those who hail from the old school days who had a talent, studied the art and did the schooling. I tip my hat to them and owe them a thank you and an apology.

My start really goes back before a time of digital and hovers around in the late 1980s as I came of age and had a little camera that I toted around with me, snapping photos here and there of friends, things, moments. It was the thing, to capture all those memories and excitedly take the rolls of film to a lab and patiently wait for them to be developed. Which where I grew up could be a few days, a few weeks depending on how busy the local lab was. And prior to that magical place opening (said magical place was inside a pharmacy), film usually was sent away via mail. Snail mail. Which took FOREVER!

I also have solid memories of the photography lab in high school where we were taught the basics of photography and how to process rolls of film in the dark room. This room, I can still smell it to this day and remember the vibe of it which actually at the time, felt a little creepy and spooky! Located in the rear of the classroom dedicated to science studies, it was honestly a place that most of the hormonal teens would sneak into for a quick snogfest when the teachers were not looking and thus, I'm not sure how much attention many of us really paid to the art of photography. We did learn some about scale and composition and processing but this was a country school with limited resources at the time, not a lot of cameras to share around the students and considering that photography was more of an art than a viable career possibility, it wasn't pushed on us as something to pursue beyond a hobby.

Back in those days, it was usually accepted that many of us in attendance at that school would eventually leave and go into a trade or apprenticeship of sorts - higher education was for those of wealthier backgrounds who had the means to send their children to the cities to attend university.  For the rest of us, it was a very gender driven range of options and as I wasn't exactly the most scholarly of children, I opted out of school in my mid teens (okay, I'll be honest here, I failed my way out) and kind of schlepped myself into the workforce, grabbing whatever that was available. First stop, cleaning the rooms and bar at the local pub which is every bit as seedy as it sounds - however, I loved it. Since I was well under the age to work the bar itself, I'd be up early morning, off to work and cleaned the rooms of the attached accommodations, then time to focus on cleaning the bar/restaurant and rest rooms and once that was done, I'd knock off for the day and could spend the rest of my time bludging down by the river in the sunshine. Obviously not a whole lot of room for career advancement there but I did like the peace of it, the soothing tones of Patsy Cline playing on the cassette player as I cleaned, and if I was lucky and won the battle of the cassette player for the day, then I'd happily blast some Van Halen.

This was for one summer a million years ago and then when I hit 16, it was time to join the real world and get a real job which meant leaving the small town nest and heading back to the bigger town nearby where I'd attended school and luckily for me, there was a newer pharmacy in town (which had the fancy photo lab) and that's where my years of retail started. I could chat on for hours about retail since thats really the one consistent in my life but this blog post is about photography and I'll stick with that topic. I kept taking photos and thankfully as I had the lab at work, getting them processed was much easier and quicker. I never had the opportunity to learn the photo lab as there were others qualified for it and had more seniority than myself but that was okay - I didn't want to be the one behind the machine developing others photos, I wanted to be the one to take the photos!

Now fast forwarding to a few years down the track. In the big city far from home, still working in retail, still taking photos of every random event in life. Still never for one minute thinking that maybe, just maybe, I should consider a photography course or pursuing it. Because I was a retail girl right? And who had a career in photography anyway? No-one that I knew did. I still kept taking photos though and when a camera would click it's last click, I'd hustle into the nearest pawn shop to find myself a "new" one - merrily snap away and drop my rolls to the photo lab in the mall where I worked, the young gent who worked there groaning as he'd see me approach, knowing I had more work for him. Fun fact: it was discovered that the young gent in the photo lab was the boyfriend of one of my workmates who later became a good friend.

Snap. And now we are in the 2000s, I'm in the USA and married and the era of Digital cameras was in full swing. Husband himself was also a keen shutterbug with a good film camera and quite a good eye, plus a lot more knowledge of the technical aspect of photography than myself. But we found ourselves with a small Sony point and shoot digital camera which was great for capturing the random moments in our lives and I often enjoyed walking around the waterfront town we lived in, getting artsy fartsy and taking photos of this, that and the other.

Click. More years pass, more years of working retail, different locations, different cameras. Technology changes and evolves. Photography remained a hobby but somewhere along the line, it felt more in my blood and more as something I wanted to learn about on a serious level. Maybe, just maybe, it could become something but I needed the education to understand better what my eyes saw. And here's the absolute shit kicker of it all - with the encouragement of my amazing husband, we did actually look into schooling for me but it was a rotten old catch 22. Our combined incomes wouldn't render me eligible for any sort of financial assistance at the place I wanted to attend. Yet the fees to do this study were beyond what we could afford. Dreams crash and burn but you know what? I didn't for one minute think that I couldn't learn in my own way and thankfully there were community classes that could be taken which I had the pleasure of doing with my father in law. We had a blast! Met some great people and I may or may not have annoyed the living crap out of our instructor. We'd go on field trips and she'd be telling us to look one way.....and I'd be hammering off in another direction to chase a sunset that everyone was missing because she wanted us taking photos of a leaf.

Oh rebel be thy name.

And then somewhere along the way, my retail years ended. Physically I was done for, mentally I was broken. I'd been in retail since age 16 and I just couldn't do it any more. Husband suggested maybe it would be beneficial to get a job at a local camera store where we spent a lot of time (and money) which in theory, sounded great but in practice, was the worst three days of my life in any job. I'd done many things over the years in retail and even had some time in hospitality but not once in any of those jobs did I feel as shattered as those three days in a camera store. I remember walking home after my first day, in tears as I realized that I'd made a huge mistake. Largely in part, it was due to the treatment I'd received by the other employees which for a lack of appropriate wording, I'll just say was less than kind. It was evident that this was not going to improve and the wages which were below minimal didn't seem to be worth sticking around for. With the support of husband, I left and have never looked back. I've never been one to take leaving a job lightly and as much as it pained me to call defeat so quickly, it was the smartest thing I've done.

Now for trying to make a go of it? Well, after learning as much as I could via books and magazines, the rest was pure instinct and practicing as much as possible. Looking at everything around me in different lights from different angles and trying to find my "style" in a sea of people much younger than myself who had a greater understanding of technology and use of programs for photo editing. That side of things never came easy to me but being behind the camera? Well that was the part that always felt natural. Did I want to be a portrait photographer? Did I want to commit to the financial strains of a brick and mortar studio? I really didn't know and over time, I soon found out what I did feel good about doing and what I didn't enjoy as much. I never did end up with a studio and thats something I've never regretted because as I saw some of the old timers close up shop, photographers who'd been around some time, it was an industry that was changing and evolving at a speed that caught many off guard. Some of these people who had dedicated years to learning photography and spending years building a clientele, they no longer could compete in the era of "quick point and shoot" - bored housewives picking up a camera, snapping some photos using an auto setting,  doing some editing in programs on computers and bingo, one portrait session done for the super price of $40.00! How could anyone compete with that? And sadly those solid businesses who had serviced the local communities for years and were more than worth their weight in the prices they charged, they were gone.

So no, I do not for one minute regret opting not to go that route. I never wanted that stress and as far as I was concerned, everywhere I went was a studio which gave me much more artistic freedom. I took photos of people, I took photos of dogs, I took good photos, I took bad photos and sometimes I'd get some great photos. I felt myself trying to fit into the mold expected of me during the days of steampunk and unique expression. And realized that wasn't my style. I realized maybe a little too late that I really didn't enjoy being a wedding photographer and I always knew that taking photos of babies was not anything I had interest in either. As for suggestive or boudoir? Nope, not my thing and I was adamant that I wouldn't go in that direction since it honestly made me feel uncomfortable.

 During the earlier years when I attended group shoots to practice more portrait photography, the GWCs (guys with cameras) would be talking women into taking their clothing off and I was on the opposite side of things, begging people to put more clothing on! I loved fashion of all styles - a well cut suit on a guy, a frilly 1950s dress on a gal, I loved a clean photo of a moment without too much fuss. Posed or candid, it didn't matter, as long as it was a solidly good photo that didn't rely heavily on editing. I enjoyed taking photos when we traveled and in particular, I loved taking photos of people in action. Sports, movement, random things that would happen, THAT is what I enjoyed. But that my friends, does NOT put coin in the bank. 

Struggling with the aspects of personal integrity, how do I continue on without sacrificing my ideals and principles, how to stay true to myself and what I enjoy about what I do? How do I create a business on something that people may or may not have a need for? And who wants to pay for pretty photos of themselves dressed up in fun fashions when they can do the same for themselves for free on a cell phone? Maybe I failed myself by not going the route of so many. And I know I'd never call myself successful since half the time, the business aspect feels like something beyond my skill set. Had I dedicated more time to learning the business side of things, would that have affected how I feel about photography? Maybe. I always took great pride (and still do) at knowing how to work a camera manually instead of using automatic settings like so many do, how to adjust my settings according to what's around me and what I see, what environment I'm in. And I pride myself in continuing to learn here and there, even if sometimes I fail. And I pride myself that in by staying true to myself, I still love photography and what I gain from it. I may not be a "professional" photographer by todays standards since it is not a full time position for me but you know what? I am perfectly okay with that. I enjoy what I do and when I get to do it. I do it for me, and for the love of it. 

I've realized I love taking photos of objects, of product. My proudest moments were when my husband asked me to take photos of peppers and a baked potato for some packaging he was working on at his workplace. My truest joy has been taking the senior photos of my dearest friends children. And some of the much smaller and unique weddings of friends that I did the photography for, well those I will always cherish because it wasn't just taking photos of random strangers but seeing the union of people I adored and being a part of that in a small way to capture the smiles, the tears and all of the love. My good fortune to meet so many amazing people through all of this, to see so many things, to learn so much. To have the endless love and support of my biggest cheerleader (hello husband) as well as the encouragement of my wonderful in-laws.

That in itself is a success right there. 

The things I did learn:

Don't let people take advantage of what you do in order for their own gain.

It's okay to say no.

Sometimes it's best to not take the camera to events so you can stay in the present and fully enjoy things. Especially if you have PAID to attend that event.

Stick to your guns sometimes, if there is the best time to take photos, then don't budge an inch.

Always chase the right light but don't rule some things out based on that alone.

Experiment, always experiment.

Trust your gut. If it doesn't feel right, then it's not going to turn out in your favor.

Who knows what is next for me? Portrait work is no longer as viable due to the current state of affairs in the world. And as my preference for product photography is the direction I'd rather be going, thats something I continue to work on and hopefully stay on course with. Since I still wish to remain true to who I am as a person with a variety of interests and skills, I find myself less inclined to call myself a photographer and more of a mixed media artist. Would I go back in time and tell my young self with a camera in hands that it WAS possible to forge a career in photography? Absolutely! Maybe I'd have done things differently, worked harder, studied more. But do I regret the way things have worked out? No. I do not. My path is the one I had to take to get to where I am now and thats a thing to be happy about and to celebrate.

Click, snap. Thats a wrap.

Thanks for reading and I hope you'll pop back here for the next blog post.

Stay happy, stay well.

Sam.

"Tell those friends with cameras for eyes
That their hands don't make me hang
They only make me feel like breathing
In an unguarded moment" - The Church.
 

Well, it's been a hot minute since I last typed out a blog and while I've had the best of intentions of doing more and I always have a thought or an idea, time unfortunately gets the best of me. I jot down notes onto my phone with subject matter and then go on my merry way. But I'm here now and it's time to catch up!! Please do buckle up because I'm digging deep here today and tackling some of the thoughts that have been roaming around in my head a while now.

I've got a variety of topics today and plan to dip into each, so bear with as I work out how best to proceed. The question I ask myself is, where to start? Do I go deep? Do I tackle crafting subjects? Do I just waffle on randomly and see what comes forth? Sometimes my mind runs in so many different directions and it's kind of like having a mosh pit in the brain where the thoughts jump up and down like a bunch of sweaty twenty-somethings at a metal festival! And it takes a lot of concentration to corral those thoughts and get them to settle and sit still. It's not all bad though, it keeps me creating and thinking and moving....and when the brain gets tired, it naps. Phew!

Maybe I'll start with the topic of moving since that's been on my mind a lot these days - not moving in terms of transplanting myself somewhere different. This is about moving of the mobility kind and as someone who was diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy last year, moving around is something that is sometimes difficult for me to do with ease. Up until I was diagnosed, I'd never heard of "PN" and was enjoying a time in my life where I'd lost weight, was very active and for the first time in my life, was the best shape I'd ever been. And then after going on a bit of a hobbit adventure on my 47th birthday (a 27 mile walk was maybe a bit overkill), my feet started to experience some pains and sensations that were uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Long story short, a trip to podiatrist, a nerve biopsy and badda bing, badda boom - you've got peripheral neuropathy doofus! Oh and let us not forget that arthritis which just makes it all the better. While I'll not waffle on too much about the whole thing, it's important to note here that this is NOT a curable condition. It is something that the medical field barely knows how to treat and it is genuinely staggering at how many people suffer from it. It can stem from so many different situations - from diabetes, chemo, injury or other ailments and for every person who has it, it can manifest unexpectedly. And since we are all very individual masses of cells, the treatments can fail or succeed accordingly. I read somewhere that it's like the little cousin of MS and it's very difficult to suitably express the feeling of the symptoms since they vary widely from person to person.

Now I've not been the most pro active in terms of how to be treated or how to manage this and I've had to learn a lot through trial and error. Since it's not a visible condition, people are unaware that even when I'm walking around being normal, on the inside, every nerve in my feet and now my legs feel like they are on fire. I can rest as much as I want and it doesn't make a lick of difference - sometimes that makes the sensations worse. Sleep is now a challenge when I'm laying down and the pains shoot through my affected areas but that said, when I do fall asleep, that is the only time of the day (or night) where I do not feel my symptoms. I've tried various items targeted to people with PN, ranging from little socks that have a really pretty smell with gel which were a pain in the arse to try and put on. Since some of my toes no longer have full sensation, trying to squeeze the little piggies into the holes on these socks resulted in me bending a toe a little too hard and I hurt for a few days after that.  But that is nothing compared to the great medication fiasco of late summer 2020 - after running out of some pills that the podiatrist gave me, I opted to try some that were supposedly similar which I found online.

Ummmm......an 8 to 9 day colonic cleanse was the end result and lets just say,  lesson learned. I've got an electro shock therapy foot thingy that I decided would be the best Christmas gift to myself and honestly, it doesn't do much other than make my feet feel nice at the time. It's supposed to help bring the dead nerves back to life and I really do need to use it more but again, it only eases a little and isn't a cure all. After joining a community of people on social media who all have PN, I have heard enough horror stories about the medications that the professionals are doling out that I've decided thats a big ol' hell no for me....especially after a self inflicted colonic cleanse. Some of these meds cause weight gain (NO thank you), depression and anxiety (just what I need as someone who is in pre stages of menopause and dealing with the matters of that crazy freak show called a pandemic)...and of course anal leakage....or deaaaaaath. So thats a hard pass and I refuse to have anyone with a degree and a white coat prescribe me something that they themselves wouldn't take. Sorry big pharma - not today.

So that leaves me with a more organic approach which I'm open to and something I'll be exploring more as time allows. The main thing I have learnt is that I have to be my own advocate, I have to recognize that this is something I'll be dealing with for the rest of my life and it may evolve further or it may not. Either way, it's a challenge as it it stands now and sometimes it takes a bit of a toll on my emotional and mental wellbeing. But I remind myself daily that I'm better off than some, that there are worse things in life and I'm a tough little shit who won't give up. I walk as much as I can, I even run a little at times. I exercise and stay active and finding the balance between rest and being mobile is tricky but I keep trying the best I can. And thats all I can do. I'd like to think that with todays organic options, it would be a gentle time of sitting around, listening to Janis Joplin and quietly noshing on cheese (wishful thinking?) but regardless of how that works out, anything to subdue the pain would be wonderful.

And now onward to the next topic! As mentioned, the mental mosh pit dances away and since I started this post, I've ironed some garments, chatted on the phone about business things, let the dogs in and out and such. Multi tasking!! I rarely get on the phone to talk these days but had some questions to ask someone which were better asked in conversation than message. Communication is a thing for me, I like clear communications and yet struggle with various methods of communicating which is weird enough. Without going into too much detail, there was an event nearly three years ago in my life that affected us greatly. One of the after effects was the sounds of notifications on my phone - they really started to bother me - every ping of a message alert or text would have me grinding my teeth and I smartly opted to put my phone on mute and remove audio alerts where I could. You'd think that would solve the problem right? Well, it was a fix for a time but now, being home so more and subjected to cell phone noises and landline spam calls - especially during the long time of lockdown, I started to really get annoyed. So much SPAM!! And it seemed it would always happen when I was hands deep in a project or in a room where the phone wasn't near. Or I'd be out and about doing something and my cell would silent buzz.....I got to a point where I would scream "leave me alone" and yeet the phone across the room or swear rather loudly at it. And thats when I knew I had to take action.

All this accessibility feels non consensual and rather invasive to a certain degree.  I used to be a little girl who loved chattering on the phone to my Nan and Pop, and when I was a teenager, being on the phone to friends was everything! But that was back in the day when rotary phones were used and there was such a thing as "phone etiquette"  - and back then, some calls would cost a small fortune, especially if they were not local. Calls were a treat and not to be taken for granted. Yeah I'm that old!! But now? It feels like we are chained to these little devices and people start to lose sense of boundaries. So since I cant rid myself of the landline, I just have to grit my teeth and get creative with the spam calls. As for my cell phone, it remains on mute and now I have a new phone where only a very small handful of people have the number as to reach me in times of emergency. And that has been a huge relief. I can be messaged, I can be emailed and I can answer all those at my leisure when I'm available to do so. I can't do much about the spam calls but since my cell phone stays on mute, at least I don't hear them.

It's funny how we change as we get older and how sometimes things we once enjoyed start to feel more like a burden or a hassle. l think being home so much more in the past 18 months has given me a lot of time to think about many things and how I want to live my life in terms of the here and now as well as the future. I tend to stay more focused on the here and now since the future is full of uncertainty. I don't like to plan or hope too much for the future since it can change within a moment and I'm not sure I can go through the kind of sadness that I had in 2020 every time things were canceled. Hope is still there but planning remains tentative and I try to allow myself to stay adaptable. As for the past, well 2020 made me realize that I wasn't achieving all that much in so many ways and that I needed to switch gears and find a way to create a small measure of success that I can be proud of and it wasn't going to happen if I kept acting like it was pre: 2019.

Gears shifted. Life changes. We march forth and move on. And I had to do this on my terms and in a way that is satisfactory to me. And that gives me a bit of hope. I find myself withdrawing from various aspects of life such as social media and find myself craving more privacy, more solitude and I  continue to work on building the strength to get through the winter to come with my facilities intact. Creating an armor so to speak. Because to be honest, last winter sucked the big kahuna and it was a struggle to get through the start of this year feeling any remote sense of hope. A conversation with a dear friend made me realize that the life I was showing on social media was very far removed from the reality since she had no idea at all that I was so down in the dumps. Which got me to thinking a lot about the pitfalls of social media and how we present our lives to the world at large - of course no-one wants to be on there showing the realities. That would be uncomfortable right? And awkward. We want people to see the good bits! The exciting bits! All the things! And heaven forbid we dare show the truth and the  parts that are less than shiny. And people see all the things, all the snips of life we share and they think everything is aces and that we are all just peachy and so they decide not to worry or bother asking us how we really are.

Pardon my very edited French here but thats really f****** up. The conscious decision was made for me to ease my way from social media (ironic since I'll be posting this on there later) and maybe post something once in a while so I don't get hacked. My business social media can stay as active as I want it to be but my personal information is no longer up for public consumption and I'm now more wary of what I post, who can see it and I'd much rather send things privately than for all to see. An odd meme or funny, thats as easily sharable via message as it is to hit "post" - I don't want to share my life online as much anymore because that leaves little room for authenticity or genuine connection when I do see someone in real life. No-one needs to know what I'm doing every day and I have found that by removing myself from it all, I'm more productive, more alert and more focused. And I enjoy my time with my bubble buddies so much more when we do see each other. I grew up in an age without social media, I certainly can get through the years ahead with much less of it. And that feels really freeing! Because time is precious and I don't want to take it for granted. My time has more value than I give myself credit for and why waste so much of it being on social media - I'm a human being for heavens sake with a real life. Not a social media life - and I refuse to let myself just be content on a screen.

A brunch with two dear friends some time back really gave me something to think over and it was all agreed that we should have a key word that we use with each other when the angsts of life feel unbearable. And that meant a lot, since they too see what they see online and had no idea of how unhappy I was. Winters are a bitch in Ohio but with that key word between us, their support and a laundry list of projects and activities a mile long to see me through, I think this time I'll be much better off. I cant control what's going on in this world but I can sure as heck control the way I live my life and how I deal with things. So I'm buffing my armor and will march into the latter half of the year like a warrior going into battle. Pew pew.

(side note to K & J - I love yoose dearly, thank you for being the amazing humans that you are)

We have no idea of what is yet to come and quite honestly, there is no point pretending that everything is back to normal or hunky dory. To bury ones head in the sand and ignore reality is not an option, nor is it wise. I strongly suspect the pendulum is going to swing back into a direction that we will not find in our favor and to deal with that, it's time to be strong, to be honest and prepared. I know some may find that negative but I'm a realist and am not going to be naive enough to think that the world is going to bounce back from everything thats happened by sheer will alone. Because this craziness is GLOBAL - not just 'Merica, not just Ohio. It's everywhere. I recently had the situation arise where some people asked where I was from and when I told them, they asked when I was going home next. And when I explained that could still be quite a long time off from now, they cocked their heads to the side and couldn't understand it. I had to explain how my home country is currently experiencing issues and that it would not be feasible for me to just hop on a plane and zip off on a leisurely vacay because right now, it would be unlikely I'd be let in. And quite frankly, that is a total mind breaker. Because as much as I want to go on a lovely little vacay, seeing my family is far more important and the longer this goes on, the less likely it will happen.

These people I spoke to, well they couldn't wrap their heads around it. Some people tend to forget there is a thing called "other countries", they obviously didn't look much at atlases and globes as children and boy it shows. Heck, I grew up in a country town of about 100 people and even we got to look at National Geographic magazines in school and learn about THE WORLD around us. So I'm very aware that no matter how things roll along here, there are a heap of blobs on a round blue ball that are experiencing this as well. Okay, rant over because I know this topic just lights a fire under my saggy arse and I'll subtly slide into the last topic if you haven't already hit the close button and muttered "well this one, she's a scorching lunatic".

Without further ado, the last topic for today, well....it almost feels like a fluffy add on since I dipped into the deeper waters this time around. But you want to see photos of some fabric I'm working on? HA! Since I enjoy staying busy, I like to think of something that I might want to try and then jump in and learn and practice and create and this month, I'm all about the block printing. I've had the supplies for such a long time so I got to play with it a little, loved doing it and.....ordered more supplies. Which may lead to other things that could be exciting. I've never been one to be confident in myself or believe in my ability to learn but if the past year has taught me anything, I AM capable of learning and doing and I enjoy trying many things, even when they push me out of my comfort zone a little. And I allow myself a little measure of pride with that. I'm not a person to toot my horn loudly and I try to abide by the quote "insecurity shouts, confidence whispers" but on the odd occasion, I'll let myself have a little pat on the back and say "well done old chook" because the only person I need validation from is myself (and sometimes my husband who is the champion of all that I do, especially when it's baked)

While I have no idea of what the future will bring, I plod along with caution, a tiny nugget or two of optimism, a view looking forward and not backward. And a ton of creative projects to keep me busy and learning all along the while (air clay and resin = not my thing, dyeing and playing with concrete = much more my speed) - and of course my list of notes for future blog posts which will happen when they happen.

Anyway, time to wrap this up for the day and get back to the things.

Stay well, stay happy.

Sam.

I think this really stems originally from a recent conversation with a neighbor and he talked to me some about something he loves, something he enjoys and something I'd assume that many too would enjoy as well. Art! And as we all know, art is totally subjective of course so what some may consider gorgeous, others may not. I'd spent many days walking past my neighbors house, watching after they moved in as they started creating a landscape filled with unique finds - an area of garden full of wild flowers, various recycled materials used to create interest in areas that would be considered utilitarian. Borders thoughtfully lined with bowling balls. And while it may not make sense to some, it made sense to him and all told, I really enjoyed seeing the evolution of his hard work. While it wasn't something I'd do myself, I appreciated it all and could see the love and labor that went into it; and as the months of lockdown and pandemic plonked along, seeing his yard was something that would make me smile and gave me some joy during the darkest of days.

Fast forward about a year and I finally meet this neighbor during my biannual trek around the neighborhood, dropping off treats to the people I knew and the people I didn't. No reason other than to say "hello, someone is thinking of you and wishing you a Happy Easter" - something I've done for a couple of years now at Christmas, and now Easter. My route has grown as I get to know people who live a few blocks away or around the corner and it's a true joy to do this random thing without any expectation of anything in return. I do it to foster a sense of community and to let people know that someone out there actually cares.

So I chat with my neighbor who thanked me for the letter I'd dropped at his door at Christmas, as well as a garden statue that had been sitting in my basement. It felt like it belonged there with him and I wanted to let him know his garden was appreciated. And it came as quite a surprise when he expressed such gratitude to receive that letter and statue, especially considering he'd been getting heat from other neighbors about his choice of yard art, the type of heat that ended up involving the local city council. I was just floored to hear that and especially glad I'd taken the time to drop that letter to him since it obviously meant more than I expected. Again, art can be completely subjective and sometimes it can stir emotions of a negative scale. Or it can be admired. But who would take someone to task for using recycled materials when they themselves (he has an idea of who the suspect is) have a yard full of art that likely has come from a discount store? What is the difference? One is new - one is not. The chain store stuff is okay because it was purchased and "makes sense"? Yet a thoughtful placement of bowling balls to edge a garden bed isn't okay because it's not "new" so to speak? Baffles me when I try to wrap my head around it and all else I can say is that I'll champion my new creative yard art friend any time because he doesn't deserve to be in strife for thinking outside the box. He keeps things tidy, it doesn't look like a junk yard and he deserves to be thanked for creating something visually enjoyable.

I'm glad I met him and I hope to enjoy his garden in the days to come when I stroll by. And after that chat, I also got to meet some other neighbors whom I'd yet to meet - people who strolled up our driveway to say thank you for the treats, people who've lived here for many years and told me all sorts of interesting facts about our beloved neighborhood. And that is a reward that I wouldn't anticipate, yet am so thankful for. An email recently with an invitation to drop by for socially distanced snacks and adult beverage (oh yes please) from a neighbor we'd not met and barely seen in the 5 years we've lived here. This happens because I'm NOT afraid to reach out and remain stubbornly determined to foster a stronger sense of community, something that seems to lack all over the board in this day and age.

I was raised in an extremely small town where community was important and have missed that greatly over the years. Small town living had it's downside for sure - you couldn't get up to mischief as a child without someone knowing about it and there were plenty of "Aunts and Uncles", the town elders who'd not hesitate to dob us in to our parents if they busted us getting up to no good. Sometimes it felt like there was nowhere to hide. And the TALK, oh heavens the talk. The gossip! A scandal was chewed on for days, if not weeks and if you really screwed up, then you'd be stuck with that mistake for life. But for the cons, the pros were so vast and great. A community of people who cared about your well being. A community who rallied during peoples times of need. People who taught us how to be strong, how to grow up, how to just enjoy being kids and people who'd have your back if needed. That did not suck and gave us a sense of security which is rare these days. Oh and lets not forget the great convenience that if you had to go to the outhouse (yes, I grew up with an outside toilet) and it happened to be occupied by The Big Flea during his quality newspaper reading hour, we had the option of leaping over the fence to use our neighbors outhouse - while something not highly encouraged, it was there during times of emergency.

Just sayin,' if I had an outhouse, the door would never be locked to my neighbors. Yeah, take the girl from the country but you cant take the country out of the girl.

Our community stretched wide from our little hamlet to the other small towns in the surrounds and it was beautiful, like a carefully pieced together quilt of different components that somehow came together in something worthy of being displayed in a museum. It was art. And I miss it so very much.

As I get older, it's harder to connect with people and a pandemic certainly causes some challenges that were not expected. I find myself disconnecting more from people, more from the world and spending more time creating - the busier my hands, the quieter my thoughts. If I'm busy doing something I enjoy, I'm less prone to thinking about the troubles of the world and also keeping my hands away from snacks (v.important!) - unless of course I'm keeping my hands busy baking, then that's a whole different kettle of tea. Or bowl of flour? Eh, whatever. So recently, I got a bee up my bum to make a bowl. I've never made a bowl before and just felt the need to do so and after some research, I got started. Each day led to another step, another layer, I drove poor husband nuts by talking about this bowl every day until it was complete - it took a little over a week. And every day as I sat to work on it, it calmed my mind and was a soothing process. People annoying the living crap out of me? Work on the bowl. Feeling a little sad? Work on the bowl. Sick of doing endless laundry? Work on the bowl. Scorching PMS? Work on the bowl. Let me just say, I worked on that bowl A LOT during that week. Might have to make some more because it was a therapy unexpected. And maybe people may not like the bowl, some may appreciate it, however it is my interpretation of art and if I love it, then that's all that matters.

So that my friends is pretty much it for today. Maybe a little random, maybe not. But it's here, it's been typed out and I can breathe knowing that my thoughts have been transferred from the noodle to the blog and then undoubtedly I'll simmer up a new one before long. And in the meantime between now and then, I'll probably make some more bowls!!

Stay well, stay happy.....and please remember, little random acts of kindness can sometimes make more of an impact than you know. Our world has become so small. I urge you to reach out to someone. Cross a barrier. Make sure they are ok. Make a difference. 

Thanks for reading.

Sam.

Yeah, that's right. I'm sitting here having a quiet little horn toot because not only did I get mine done this month well on schedule, but I also actually LIKE what I've done which is a novelty in itself. This months challenge was to source supplies of two materials - either something in a stretch knit or denim. And we've already established in previous blog posts that I kinda like denim. Well, I really like denim and am not shy about it. And since I wouldn't know what to do with a stretch knit since I'm a  professional photographer and not a seamstress, it was DENIM.....FOR......DAYS.....YEAH!

So the Turbo Tracy and I arranged our day to get supplies and were joined by some other members of the designers group at our usual haunt and got to shopping in between quick chatting. Since everyone was masked up, it was funny because conversations were being had with total strangers, thinking they were part of the group too and if they weren't, well they were by the end of the expedition!!

I had a rough idea of what I wanted to do and so I cheated some there. I opted to create something that I knew I could do as it was something I'd made many years ago and figured this would be a good one to work on. I even wasn't overly worried about having to use a sewing machine since as mentioned, this is a project I'd made in the past and I knew I'd be able to tackle it and deal with any issues if they popped up. So I hit the aisles of denim and got to selecting my supplies. The jeans, the shirts, the jackets and the skirts - there was much to be had and I knew I had to be pretty cautious since a lot of modern denim has stretch to it which I did not want. People have have sauntered by and given me odd looks as I gave many pairs of jeans a good solid tug, they may have wondered why I was looking in the junior section since I'm no junior (well, I have the humor of a teenager at times but still, more often than not these days, I get asked if I'm in the senior discount category) - and of course since I wanted to make sure I had enough fabrics, I hit the plus section since I knew I'd get good bang for my buck in terms of yardage. As it stands, I still have plenty of leftovers from this haul which will be great for other projects.

Of course it goes without saying that I did get a little side lined into buying a few other things as always but that's not a bad thing if it's something for myself to wear or something for a project that I want to do. I was on the prowl for some plastic bowls and asked people to remind me to look so every so often, I'd hear someone say to another "Did Sam find some bowls?" and that's why I adore this group of humans!! Yes, I found bowls. Thank you to all who remembered and reminded me. Bowls are being used for another super secret project so I'll be sure to share when that's done.

So to sum things up, I nabbed 6 pairs of jeans and a shirt. Grand sum spent, around $20 in all since some items were 50% off. And we were all pretty well loaded up with goodies so our darling Pene thankfully offered to give us a ride home which was much appreciated since my feet were giving me much grief that week. Thanks Pene! Home to get everything in the wash and ready for the best part....DECONSTRUCTION!! It seems (seams....ha ha) we are all a bit in love with the process of tearing into things and ripping them apart and I find that extremely funny - I'm not sure what it is but it's seemed to be spoken of with reverence every time we do one of these challenges. And I'm no exception. After I'm done, I sit panting like a dehydrated trout with tiny snips of thread all over the carpet like glitter and my dogs look at me like I've done lost my mind. What can I say? It's satisfying. Of course I couldn't help myself when I was ripping the jeans apart, I thought to myself "I bet someone farted while they were wearing these" because odd things like that do skim through my mind at times when I'm working with used garments. 

You've never thought about that? Well now you will. You're welcome! This is why I wash EVERYTHING that comes through my door. Because.....poo dust. And what did I say earlier about my humor?

After finding the pattern that I knew I wanted to use, I got to work, cutting out the pieces - pin and cut, pin and cut, pin and cut. Pin pin pin pin pin and sew. Sew sew sew. Then for the stuffing. Stuff stuff stuff. And lastly, spend two days trying to work out how to attach a jeans pocket which I ended up hand tacking on with invisible thread (which I nearly lost my mind because that stuff lives up to it's name) and after a consult with the Man of The House for his creative input, the addition of some pom poms which were leftover from the January ReFab project. And a giant button sourced from my craft stash and the job was done. I love how I can flip the pillow over if I want to since it's all business in the front (button) and party in the back (pocket) - it's the mullet of pillows!!! SWEET!

But seriously, I'm really happy with how it turned out and the pocket is a nifty touch to hide things like snacks, a cell phone, devils lettuce, some sealed files from the CIA - anything you want to stash away, the pocket is there.

And that's a wrap for this month's challenge my friends. It's been a good one and I may look at doing some more pillows like this down the track using other fabrics just for fun. It's now time to get the information together for the May challenge (can you believe it?) so off I go, more adventure awaits and until next time, stay well and stay out of trouble.

Thanks for reading.

Sam.

So I had a go. And I had to blow. And blow, annnnnnnnnnd blow.... and I'm thinking to myself "oh ick, raw egg near my lips!" as I gave it my all, the dulcet tones of Billy Joel egging me on in the background. Yes that was a pun that I couldn't pass up. Now bear in mind, this was TWO eggs after much cussing, breaking and many moments to stop and wipe the eggs.....and my lips. I opted for natural methods of dyeing with blueberries and green tea and after prepping both methods, carefully set my experiments into the fridge to brew up overnight. Husband got home, saw the contents and was mildly grossed out.

Next day, checked my results and was overall, quite pleased. And then hustled my egg dyeing arse down to the grocery store (after a pit stop to the BMV to renew my ID) to get more eggs. YAY! Mission was successful despite me somehow getting home minus the milk I purchased and losing my reading glasses somewhere on route. Time to dye more eggs! Time to DYE ALL THE THINGS! Can you tell I was in the mood to get craaaaaafffffffty? 

 I mixed things up a bit by doing some eggs in more blueberries, some in the green tea again, some in dried hibiscus flowers (my favorite), some in paprika and some in coffee. Boiled water, added vinegar and this time I got smart, I opted not to blow the eggs and just dyed them after boiling them. These were just for photo purposes after all. And one can only blow eggs to so much Billy Joel. Set the concoctions in the fridge and got to work dyeing other items - every year I get stuck into dyeing fabric using a variety of methods and since I'm pretty sure I can still smell turmeric after using that to dye textiles last year, this time I went for some store bought dyes. As I plan to sell these creations, I stick to what works for me and always have plan which sometimes fails me. Like dyeing some napkins with a frayed edge - ummmmm, I liked the end results so much that I've decided to keep them! Occupational hazard I guess. But I shall make more, I swear!

Now back to the eggs. I was pretty excited this morning and got up as husband was getting set to head to work which meant it was still dark outside and most human beings are still in the land of nod. But I really wanted to see how they turned out and after husband toodleoo'ed on his merry way, I got busy and started gently easing the eggs out of the jars (handy tip to myself for next year, use shallower containers) and while some weren't as exciting as I'd hoped such as the paprika and coffee, the hibiscus and blueberry were fabulous with the green tea ones coming out fairly decent too. Because green tea dyes things yellow. Who knew? In summary, I'll be doing this one again next year but will take note of the things that I need to remember - 

1. Do this at least TWO weeks before Easter, not a few days beforehand.

2. Get better containers and more natural dye supplies like beets and cabbage.

3. Blow the eggs to AC/DC.

4. Don't lose the milk. Or the reading glasses.

So that's all the dye stuff for now. I've had a few busy days working on other projects and baking a little here and there. Since my new camera arrived, I've been constantly ticking over with ideas for things to make to take photos of and am planning some outings and adventures once it gets a little warmer. I may even have some people to photograph || GASP ||, yeah it's been a while since I've done that and I am keeping things under wraps for now since I want it all to be a surprise. Until then I'll keep taking photos of things like the scones I made on Monday. Which was quite funny since I'm not one for the style of scones here in the USA. The first time I had one was about 19 years ago and when it was given to me, I was like "what in the name of Kylie Minogue is THAT? Ploise explain!" - it had the texture and density of a charcoal brick that you put into a BBQ and had I tossed it in the direction of my husband, well, if it had hit his noggin, he'd have been concussed!!

Anyway, my wariness of scones lasted until the other year when I met a local baker who makes the most beautiful scones. So............moist. And delicious. Now I'm not one to bake them myself since I'd rather support her business but there is a flavor of scone that I'm eager as mustard to make so I had a little test run by making some lemon and lavender ones and they actually turned out quite good. That makes me hopeful that the mystery batch that I want to make will be equally as nice. 

Well my friends, that's about all the chatter for now. Not the most detailed post, nor the most instructional but that's okay. Some days you feel the vibe and other days are a bit more chill. Honestly, I just want to stop typing so I can go play with toys and wash another load of textiles to see how they turn out! So on that note, I'm outta here. Thanks for reading and I promise to be back soon with more unexciting stories. LOL.

Stay well, stay happy and if you can, be an uppppptown giiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrl!

Sam.

Now the most exciting part of this challenge for me was ripping all the bags apart. Strangely I got more bags than belts but everything that I did get, I could see the potential (and I may have nabbed a few bags for keeping intact so I could tote my goodies around) and as much as I wanted to wait until March 1st - I CHEATED! I grabbed pliers, scissors and Went. To. Town!! RIP, TEAR, CLINK AND CLUNK. I honestly was like a rabid dog and would have used my teeth if I had any! HA! But after the carnage ended and my heart rate went down to an acceptable level, I tidied it all away and like the good lamb that I am, didn't touch it again until the start of March.

Given the sheer quantity of what I had, I knew I could at least make one thing and really fancied something along the lines of a cinched belt. Or something like that. I even had two pieces of a bag that I briefly flirted with the idea of making a top. And maybe I'll get that done eventually but the main goal was to have one completed item. After playing around with the supplies, I pulled what I wanted aside and got started. At first, I used a piece of scrap tablecloth to use as my "pattern" and free hand drew the design out which I then used to hack out some croc print faux leather. Then I used the lining torn out from another bag to line the inside of the belt pieces. I used glue. Which was icky. Created an edge with that lining and rolled the edges and hand tacked them into place. And then I set it all into my craft bag and solidly PROCRASTINATED for the rest of the month. Did a bunch of other things, sewed a floor pouf, exercised and painted backdrops...all the way mentally thinking "I'm so busy" but really, was being a slacker of whopping proportions.

Anyway, skip over the next few weeks and I finally park my butt to get this done. Since I'd already mentally pondered what I needed to do, I was ready to get er' done. And my inner destructive scamp was looking forward to this part. Riveting and grommeting. Give the girl a hammer and she shall whack away. I riveted the centerpiece of the belt which was from a clutch, then grommeted the areas where I wanted to have a corseting effect on the sides. A belt supplied the gold coin pieces that are on the bottom, a gold chain and clasp from a purse as well as the fittings adorned the bottom and a little tassel for flair. And from my own stash, some leather necklace cord to lace up the sides. 

And thus it was done. I set it on my smaller form in the dining room and my husband walks in and sees it and says "Oh hey, it's Rocky's belt!" - yeah there is a smart arse born every minute. And now I look at it and don't see "Femme Rock", I see Sylvester Stallone all sweaty and bleeding from the corner of his eye.

Now in summary, do I like it? Yeah I kind of do!! Would I have changed things about it? YES! I'd not have used the glue which seeped through the black lining leaving questionable blotches on the inside of the belt. And I'd have been more detailed with how I attached that lining, maybe even tried to use a sewing machine instead of hand sewing. And when I did the grommets and rivets, I was operating on less than 4 hours of sleep so the placement is a little off here and there. And I'd definitely have used something else for the lacing since the cording is super stiff. But overall, I'm kind of happy with it. I think I enjoy the process of sourcing the supplies and designing more than I do the executing but that's why I'm a photographer by trade and not a seamstress. And I'm perfectly okay playing with ideas and stuffing things up as well as owning up to being a giant procrastinator. Oh and before I forget, when I was thoughtfully planning the placement of the chain, there was a stage where I thought "ohhhhh noooooo, that's going to give off the illusion of gold camel toe" and I imagined Tim Gunn saying as such. LOL. 

Did you know I have a love for Tim Gunn that runs deep? Watching him on Project Runaway was the joy of my life.

So this months challenge is now done and dusted. I'm not sure I'll keep this belt intact since I'm already considering what to use the chain and fittings for but I did learn some valuable things from the challenge and really enjoyed the process when I actually sat down to do it. And next months challenge is going to be quite interesting with lots of room for interpretation so I'm really eager for that!! 

Thanks for reading along here and I hope you enjoy hearing about these challenges.

Until next time!

Sam.

I will only be scheduling TPS on a very limited basis as my primary goal is to remain focused on paying jobs and I will only be offering one of these sessions per person. Any desired future sessions can be scheduled with one of the packages I have on offer with reasonable rates applicable.

A TPS is generally a collaborative effort between subject and photographer with both parties being agreeable to the content matter of the session, the location, date and time. It will be a creative process with input being supplied by both persons. All details being discussed via message or phone call. While I strive to supply various items for sessions including clothing, accessories and props, this can be limited at times and will depend on the type of session scheduled. For all TPS, I will supply a contract to be signed at the beginning of the session which covers details as mentioned below. Refusal to sign contract will result in no session being scheduled.

Basic Summary of TPS Contract:

1. That both parties will honor the terms of crediting each other when posting images on all social media such as IG/FB and so on.

2. That I, the photographer will supply five full resolution images within 14 business days of session. These images will NOT be watermarked and will be available for download in an album on this website.

3. That the subject will honor the terms of NOT digitally altering the final images themselves or having a third party do so. This includes converting the images to a different color, to black and white, cropping or removing anything from the image or adding anything that was not in the original image. Failure to comply with this will result in all images being removed from all online outlets.

4. Riley Street Photography will not be held responsible for items in the possession of the subject, nor held liable for any injury sustained during the time of session.

Q - Can I cancel this session and reschedule?

A - Only if there is reasonable cause for cancelation such as illness, emergency or poor weather conditions. Frequent requests (more than two) for rescheduling will result in no future session being scheduled.

Q - Can I bring a friend along?

A - I don't mind that at all but they will not be included in the session and will be asked to maintain respectful distance during the session. Any unnecessary interruptions will result in session being ended and considered null and void with no images supplied.

Q - What do I wear?

A - Whatever strikes your fancy and makes you feel wonderful! While I strive to assist in supplying garments and such for sessions, I am limited in terms of sizing and how much I can bring along to a session. This will be well discussed and covered prior to session. Sessions will only be scheduled and based around one complete look. For a variety of looks in one session, it is recommended to bring some basic items such as accessories to switch things up if needed.

Q - How long does a session run for?

A - From start to finish, a session may run from 45 minutes to one hour with a little wiggle room in time for conversation and test photos at beginning of session. It goes without saying that both parties will be expected to meet at the designated location on time. Tardiness will not be tolerated and I reserve the right to leave the designated meeting location within 30 minutes of the scheduled session time if the subject has not arrived in that time.

Q - When can I book a session?

A - I am available Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays depending on my schedule as well as select weekends. Please allow 3 weeks in advance to schedule a session. Depending on style and theme of session as well as location, it may be discussed to schedule a time during ideal lighting conditions (mornings or early evenings) however I am happy to discuss alternatives if those times are unachievable. 

So for now, I think that covers all the basics of a TPS! I hope this offers some insight into this and as mentioned earlier, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask away. I strive to do these sessions in a timely manner, keep things fun and interesting and enjoyable for those involved as well as supply a quality product afterwards. Due to the current nature of the world around us, I also hope to maintain a safety standard in keeping with current guidelines. A mask is encouraged to be worn when not being photographed if in a well populated area, and social distancing practiced. If you are feeling unwell or show symptoms before scheduled session, please be respectful and contact me at least 24 hours prior to session to discuss rescheduling.

Thanks for reading and I hope to schedule a collaboration with you soon!

Samantha Hughes - founder and owner of Riley Street Photography.

Stars above, I do believe I'm sitting here yet again, typing out a blog post and being productive! Every now and then, I simmer on an idea or a thought and then get the urge to chatter away about the things that are floating around. And this thought has been sitting in my noodle a while and waiting to be said - to be typed. So here I am.

The Story.

We all have a story don't we? A book of life that we alone write for ourselves with chapters of past and chapters to come. And we are our own authors of our stories with some plot twists, contributors and editors joining us along the way. Characters who come and go and leave an impression on the readers....villains, heroes and everything in between. We write our books of life and when the words are final, there is no going back. No re-writing the chapters. Of course many would argue that and re-write their stories to make it sound better but that's when it goes from the realm of non fiction to fiction, and that kind of defeats the purpose does it not? A true story often can be far better than something that is made up.

My story goes back nearly 48 years and I honestly do not think I've the time to put it all here. So I'll just go into the story of now and how I want the future chapters of my story to be read. And it's not easy to write the story of our lives these days - especially when life took one REALLY BLOODY BIG PLOT TWIST nearly a year ago and life slowed down and almost came to a stand still. I look back at the past year and see a brief series of short stories - snap shots that can be held in a hand and looked over with a glance. And for a while there, I struggled with that. In a way, I still do. How do I keep writing my story when there is so much less content to fill each day? And I persevere, I keep trying to find a way to find a life that is fulfilling and worthy of being placed into my book. Maybe my story isn't that interesting anymore and wouldn't reach a broad audience or appeal to the masses and I'm actually okay with that now. Because I'm slowly learning that while it's okay to be an open book - perhaps it's better to leave some of the chapters sealed, to reserve the right to leave some of my story untold.

We all rely on social media these days to tell our stories, to share the things we do with the world because that's easiest - and as our worlds get so much smaller, it's the one way to reach out to others safely and feel connected. But as with all things, the lines between non fiction and fiction become so blurred. We share the highs but not the lows, we think we are being open and transparent yet still hold back from much of the reality because we know people don't WANT to read the reality. And there comes a point when sharing the things we think people might be interested in becomes less about openness and more about a crave for attention. A feeding of the ego, a drink of attention. Anything, something is better than nothing right? And we all do it, let us be honest. We share because it makes us look like our lives are more than what they are. The content becomes less about quality and more blah blah blah. Words to fill a void that often appears to be so vast and devoid of genuine reality. And at that point, it just becomes noise.

When that realization kicked in for me, I discovered that I felt more comfortable telling my story to a much smaller audience and needed to experience the value of privacy in a world that feels so public. Yes, I know that's oddly ironic as I sit here and type out a blog about all of this. And as usual, I'll post this blog on my business page but the thing is, I actually don't have the expectation that anyone will read it and that's fine by me. It's more about putting my thoughts down to sift through at my own leisure and maybe if someone reads it, they might understand and feel the same. Maybe it will open a private line of communication that helps someone who feels like they are struggling in the void to write their own story.

I no longer want my life to be an open book. I no longer feel the need to seek validation or have my ego fed about posting all that I do, every day on social media. No-one needs to read all the time about what I eat, what I create, what I watch, what I see, what I do. I don't need people to say to me "pretty bird, pretty bird" if I post a selfie or something I've done.  And that has been so FREEING! That realization that I can live my life and work on my story quietly without having to shout to all and sundry every single sentence or chapter as it's being written. That maybe now and then it's okay to offer a glimpse but not throw the book out there for everyone to see before it has been finished. So I step back from my personal social media account and figure if anyone wants my story, they can reach out to me the old fashioned way. Now I can be my own editor and share something of relevance if and when I feel the need to do so. I can be happy knowing that my private life is now off limits to those whom no longer need access to all I do and I can share quietly the non fiction version of myself with the people who truly value who I am. And I can post on my business page in order to grow in that aspect without compromising my privacy on a personal level.

Because I alone am the author. It's up to me to write my story in a way that I see fit and not let anyone else try to write it for me. And I'll decide each day whether it's a thriller, a rom com or a drama (most days it's a comic book with two beagles and a husband whom make me laugh!) And while the story might be quiet these days, it's not over and it hasn't ended. Now it's is time to finish this chapter and get on with writing a new one (spoiler, it's got something to do with laundry and maybe a beverage) - maybe I'll share more eventually but for now, I'm happy as a clam to enjoy the peace and plonk away at my story and live my life with more privacy, more productivity and let the plot twists happen at their own pace.

That my friends is the story. For now.

Sam.

Since we were being joined by others, we opted to do the same challenge that we did in January - the mission was to source 5 items from the thrift stores and revamp them into something new. Those five items had to come from specific sections, something from ladies wear, something from mens, something from linens, an accessory and the favorite of all, a random bag of crap! And I went into this one with a bit of a goal in mind.....and I ended up with a big ol' blood clot of a stinker! I'm not sure what demons possessed me to try and do something Valentines Day related since the challenge started on Feb 1st and that left me with just 13 days really to do what I had in mind. Honestly it seemed like a good idea at the time and I had mentally figured out what I wanted to do, got the supplies.....and then disliked it the minute I got started. I selected a really lovely woman's A line skirt, a mens plaid shirt, a scarf, some curtain valances from linens and a bag of Hello Kitty hair ties that had some plastic floral dooflinkies. In my imagination, it was fabulous but it became evident as time went on that I was destined to make something that looked like a year 7 high school project.

And you know what? Thats OKAY! After I'd washed everything, cut the items up and set them in our office area, I'd walk past, give it all a baleful look, growl a little and pretend that I was too busy with other things to tackle it. Granted I WAS kind of busy at the start but mostly, I knew I wasn't going to like it and couldn't somehow wrap my head around the idea of something else. So what the heck, I decided to commit and sat down the other day to get er' done.

To break it down pretty quickly, I cut the scarf up and used that to sew a belt. I hacked into the mens shirt and the curtain valance to make the hearts, sewed them onto the hem area of the skirt (yes I used a machine) and then attached the little plastic flower doo dahs as an embellishment by sewing them on, using the buttons from the mens shirt to secure them. And then I sighed, cringed a little and called it for what it was. A stinker. And trust me, there are a variety of reasons this is a stinker - from the poor choice of fabric which frays and sprinkles little threads all over like glitter to the fact that who in their right mind would want a skirt with little plastic flower bits that would likely leave indentations in your skin if you sat down?

Now I know this all sounds a bit Negative Nelly but really, I'd rather be honest about it and with myself and learn what I can from this as opposed to acting like I created something that would make the spirit of Dior smile. I'm a realist and know that my skill and calling in life is as a photographer and an artist - not as a seamstress. And I'm cool with that. I love to create things and now look at the things I did learn from this stunning blood clot of a project. I learnt that I'm best suited to create something using my strengths (fabric manipulation and dyeing), I should create something that reflects who I am and what my tastes are instead of going "cutesy" - and NEVER try to make something seasonal with only 13 full days to do so. A wise friend said herself at the start of this challenge that she was only going to make things that she herself would use and have a purpose for. And that's something I'm taking to heart (thanks Jo!) and remembering for next time.

So now it's over and I "YEEEEEEEEEEETED" that finished project into a place where I'll no longer see it. And I'm oddly happy to have leftover scraps of the curtain valance at least since I have plans for that! And I can call this one a wrap - a blood clot wrap - and get ready for the next challenge which starts on March 1st. Tracy and I will be off to source our supplies for that one on Friday and it's really a fun challenge this time, something a little different and exciting so please do check back here for the information on that and what is to come. I'm going into it with a very open mind, I have no plan or idea of what I will create - this time I'm going to let the materials speak to me and guide me in the right direction and hopefully I'll create something that I can be proud of.

Well that's it for now. I hope that your days are filled with creative fun and if you'd like to join us on this challenge journey, just contact me and I'll fill you in.

Cheers,

Sam.

Back again! New month, new blog post! I bet you didn't think that was going to happen right? And well, I'll not lie - I did have another blog post here recently but I just deleted it because it was GRUMPY in the worst possible way. I tapped it out during a time a few weeks ago when I was in a really dark space and now look back and think "there ain't no time for that!" - so it's gone, let us move on shall we?

The challenge is about the days since then and what I've been up to through the past few weeks, as well as a bit of a chit chat about what is to come. And the challenge really does begin in the tail end of 2020, December I think, when I spied one of the local fitness stores post on social media about something called The Frozen Feet Challenge. They had started this challenge a couple of years back I believe, in a way to encourage people to get outdoors even in the colder months when many are prone to slobbing out the start of the year on the sofa. It sounded like something I could do and so I signed up for this challenge which began on January 9th. One mile or more, outdoors, running or walking for SIX WEEKS - no excuses, no whimpering inside if the weather turned to crap, no skipping a day here and there. It was something to commit to and, well, I've really missed having something to commit to.

I knew that the weather was going to be my enemy and thus shopped accordingly - I hit my favorite online retailer and might have purchased more thermal underwear than I've ever owned in my life, ordered mittens, gloves, fleece balaclavas, socks, hand and feet warmers, more thermals lined with fleece and snow boots. And I don't regret buying any of those things because boy oh boy I have used them and then some. Now I might understand that people would ask "why put yourself through this kind of insanity?" and in the beginning, I'd really not have been able to give them a solid answer. All I knew is that I wanted to do it and why not give it a go?

Over the past six weeks, I made that commitment to the challenge and to myself and now have some solid answers and a clearer picture as to why I took it on, what I have gained from it and how this experience has helped me through the ups and downs of life. And it pulled me out of a dark place and back into something that felt a little more normal. And while I'll not bore you senseless with a recap of every walk, the summary of it is this:

I needed a purpose and I needed something to keep me going. Each day I got up, layered up with all my clothing and left the house no matter what the weather had in store for me and I just did it. Some days I walked a little over the minimum of a mile, some days I trekked on for as long as I felt I could. Some days I walked with a friend, some days I walked with my darling husband, most days I walked alone and I was NOT going to let anything stop me from completing this challenge. I walked in rain, I walked in sunshine, I walked in temperatures that made me question my sanity, I slid along roads covered in ice and snow, I meandered through the parks nearby and marveled at the things I saw. There were a few days where the symptoms of peripheral neuropathy made this challenge extremely difficult and nearly stopped me in my tracks. But I battled on and refused to admit defeat.

Each day, I would get home and record my milage on the challenge website and then I would post a photo or an update in the social media page where the other participants were doing the same, all of us wanting to stay accountable and showing that we were sticking with it no matter what. We cheered each other on and in doing so, we started to feel the sense of camaraderie that many of us had missed during 2020 when life felt canceled and gatherings were no longer appropriate. Through 2020, all the races we'd signed up for had been canceled which was frustrating given that we felt physically capable of doing all those things and had discovered how much we enjoyed them in the year previous.

The past six weeks has given me a lot of time to think, reflect and battle the things that have been bothering me and while these walks have not cured all ills, nor solved all the things, it HAS helped me sort a lot out and I feel far better for it. I realized that I struggle with what I've coined "FOC" - fear of cancellation. After so much of 2020 being cancelled, I now find myself really struggling with making plans of any sort because of FOC. Even the smallest or most tentative plans are met with much hesitation because if they get cancelled, I find myself falling back into that dark place and want to retreat from people even more. And that's something I'll need to work on - something that may be easier to handle when the weather warms and I'm less cooped up. And the walks that I've taken over the past 6 weeks made me realize that in some aspect, this is the first thing I've really had control over for a while and that the commitment that I made to myself can never be cancelled. I've found I'd rather be alone than let down and as long as I can keep on walking, my world isn't as small as I let it become.

Which then brings me to the challenges ahead, now that this frozen feet business has come to an end, I was a little nervous that I'd slip back into my angry little ball of self without something to strive for or look forward to and again, this is where I've realized that it's up to me and me alone to set the challenges for myself, to follow through on them and to trust in myself that I can do the things I want to do without fail. And that has been such a gift, to know that whatever comes, I'll be able to face it all head on and it will be okay. And also, fleece thermal underwear is awesome. It's like fabric that hugs the legs and the bum.

When we came to the final day of the challenge, we all took off out of our homes - why I even played the theme song to Chariots of Fire as I pulled on my boots and I laughed like mad before setting off on my walk. And I came home and recorded my stats, posted photos in the social media group and then slowly.....the penny dropped.....it WASN'T the last day of the challenge. And I wasn't alone with that realization. After much kerfuffle and confusion, it was confirmed that the last day of the challenge was TODAY. How easy it would have been to just say "screw it" and not get up today and hit the streets. But that would have not been honoring the commitment I made to myself and it would have been an insult to all of my comrades who've been on this journey too. I didn't want to let them down, and I didn't want to let myself down. As someone struggling with "FOC", I know the disappointment and refused to do that to myself.

So I got up and took that walk and I'm glad I did because today, it finally felt complete. I walked alone, I watched the skies shift and change, I listened to the birdsong, I saw the trees showing signs of Spring and today I felt at peace with everything. Today also marks the third year of my beautiful Grandma leaving us, three years since she gained her wings and I'd like to think as I trekked along this morning, she was watching over me. Which made today feel like it was the right day for this challenge to be over. And with that, it is done. I can give myself a pat on the back and be glad for what I've done because not only has this been important for my physical health, it's been so important for my mental health. I'm a pretty tough old boot but even the toughest of boots can wear out without some TLC. 

Now what?

Well, I'm ready to let my feet take it easy for a day or so, I'm ready to spend more time on the treadmill and sweat it out indoors. I'm ready to formulate new challenges for myself and stick to them - whether it be fitness or things that affect me emotionally.  Business or personal, I'll tackle each challenge like it's the most important thing in the world and give it the commitment it deserves. I'm stepping away from things that bother me and stepping towards things that create happiness. It's time to protect me and mine, and get through this year with a stronger sense of what I want to achieve and how to do it during these strange times. It's not going to be smooth sailing and no doubt there will be times when I get grumpy again but when I do, I know what will help. 

Get up, take one step, then another. Set a goal, smash the shit out of it and repeat if needed. Because challenges aren't made to be easy - if they were, they'd not be a challenge right?

So there you have it. The Challenge. Done and dusted and in case inquiring minds want to know, yes I'll be signing up for next years - because....well.....fleece underwear equals bum hugs. And because I can.

Just keep walking.

Sam.

At the tail end of 2020, my walking buddy and dear friend Tracy suggested we summon up some challenges and projects to keep our minds creative during the slower days and colder days of winter, and after much thought, the "ReFabrication Challenge" was born. Now this is a great one because it really isn't a firm thing nor is it something that we think HAS to be done - it's just a whenever, whatever and whoever type thing which keeps it fun and avoids the pitfalls of something concrete and rigid.

Some of you reading this, may know Tracy already - a local designer and seamstress in Dayton with a wonderful, long career in her field and her talent and skill for what she does is just amazing. As a friend, she always encourages me to follow a path of creativity and to not give up when I feel discouraged. Our long walks each week are always filled with much discussion, motivation and by the end of these walks, we feel we can conquer the world. Solve all problems and do anything! If you don't know of Tracy, please do track her down on social media under Tracy's Sewing Studio where you'll find loads of great videos, blog posts, links on where to purchase her amazing work and so much more! If you'd like to read her blog post about this challenge (which I highly recommend), please hit the link at the end of this post and read on!

Anyway, back to the challenge. We decided that our first challenge was going to be fairly simple - we'd walk to a local thrift store, each select five items from various areas and then take a month to create whatever we pleased with those five items each. We had to get an item from the women's section, an item from the mens section, something from accessories, something from linens.....and to make it all the more fun, a baggie of random crap (which many thrift stores have) - I'd say we would both agree that the random crap was the hardest part but the most enjoyable. Finding a baggie of random crap filled with items to source something that would be incorporated into the designs isn't as easy a task as you'd imagine.

So with our selected loot, we then went on our merry way and had plenty of time to get this challenge started. Now bear in mind, I am not a seamstress and have very limited skills on a sewing machine so it was going to be fun to see what we each selected and each created - two very different levels of skill, two very different styles and perspectives. And I'll not lie, I was moderately terrified since I can barely sew a straight line but the point of this exercise was to have fun and be creative and so I just let myself do exactly that. And since I know what my limitations are and what I am capable of doing, I went into the thrift store with a rough idea of what I wanted to try, if I could find the right supplies.

My choice was a classic denim jacket and thankfully I found one that would work for my purposes. Now I have a bit of a fondness for the old denim jackets despite not being one to wear them nowadays - as much as I'd like to, they aren't really part of my style....which in itself has taken a swan dive over the past 10 months since I pretty much live in sweatpants and tee shirts. Pandemic fashion courtesy of online shopping - practical, comfortable and uglier than sin. All this is another story for another time so back to denim jackets! Which my first clear memory of them is from a distant land, long long ago when my interest in fashion really started to form....yes, the teenage years! Those years when we start thinking a little more about what we like and what is fun as opposed to what is sensible and practical. And since I lived in a rural area with NO clothing shops in the town we lived in (the nearest stores being about an hour away), my exposure to fashion was limited to what I saw on TV, what I'd see in magazines and occasionally what I'd see when we did venture out to the bigger towns.

And I have a strong memory of the late 80s being a time when denim jackets were the THING and oh boy I wanted one bad. Especially one with a distressed wash. Now there were a few small problems with this - I wasn't exactly living near a mall, I didn't have a load of funds and it wasn't like the area I lived in was full of people who had access to denim jackets either. Yet by some small miracle, one of my school mates just so happened to have one that she wanted to sell and after much pleading my need to my parents, a deal was struck where I'd pay half and they'd pay half. And here's a nugget that may shock you - items like a brand name denim jacket in Australia back in the 80s were NOT CHEAP. Even in the later end of the 1990s, denim jeans in retail stores usually sold for about $80 on average and that was the cheaper brands. So jackets were obviously just as expensive, if not more so.

So I popped the $50.00 for that second hand denim jacket and for a brief and shining moment, I was just as cool as my peers. And I think that may have been the only time in my life that I ever owned one. Anyway, that's a rather random fact about my history with denim jackets and one that I hope you enjoyed.

Now back to the ReFabrication challenge. So I got a jacket, then found a fun tee shirt in the mens section, grabbed a scarf with pompoms on it from accessories and after a moment of consideration, nabbed a denim kitchen apron from the linens section. And then onto the random bags of crap which honestly, we had fun sifting through! As I snuck a few bags into my cart which had other treasures of want, I found one that had an assortment of interchangeable watch bands which could be worked into the final piece. 

My first step for this design was to cut the graphic print from the mens tee and place it on the rear of the jacket in a way that I liked, then I hand stitched the piece onto the jacket with some yellow thread which I felt complimented the graphic print and added a top stitch style to the look. Step two was to transform the kitchen apron by randomly stamping bleach onto it using a small block of wood and also swiping across the fabric with a small paint brush dipped in bleach. Washed that and then cut out the pieces I wanted to use for the front of the jacket, employing the same top stitch style with the yellow thread. Fun fact, I have a stash of vintage threads of assorted styles which are way older than I am so it was nice to be able to use these. I also did some rivets of that area of fabric on the front which I felt was in keeping with a classic denim jacket.

Now for the tricky part.....the scarf. Originally I'd planned on using the pompoms to incorporate into the piece but as I played around some, I realized that it was starting to veer dangerously into the realm of tacky and arts and crafts. Not to mention, if I'd placed them where I'd thought, well, who wants balls stuck into their back? Imagine - sitting down wearing this jacket and leaning into the back of a chair and feeling golf ball size pompoms pressing into your spine? Yeah I think not. So I scrapped that idea and opted to use the fabric of the scarf to line the middle part of the inside of the jacket which would add some extra warmth. Again, hand stitched since I knew if I even considered trying on a sewing machine, it would be a fail of epic proportions.

Then for the final part - the random bag of crap! Since I knew that most of the watch bands were going to clash dreadfully with the overall design I was going with, I opted to only use the one.....which was gold....and much to my delight, had little movable charms in the shape of letters which spelled out "BALL" and those who know me, know I drop that word a lot, especially at Christmas. So for that part, I trimmed the band a little, arranged the letters just so and then riveted it onto the back of the jacket. And lo and behold, all was done and complete. What a fun time I had doing all of this and it was interesting to note that while I stubbornly ignored my sewing machine, the quiet act of sitting and hand stitching was a really relaxing task for me to do. Slow stitching I believe they call it.....and trust me, I AM slow. Mind you, back in the day of high school textiles, I believe they called it "tacking"? Regardless, it was still more than I'd done in a while by hand and there was something very meditative about the process.

So that's it for now - the first challenge of hopefully many, and Tracy and I do hope to inspire others to join us when time permits so we can spark a heap of creativity all over!! Please do check out link below to read Tracy's blog about her journey with this challenge!

https://www.tracyssewingstudio.com/2021/01/10/introducing-the-refabrication-challenge/?fbclid=IwAR0Baxlx-ZHdNIeShhwMznc7tdqGcP2fEeeEY3H4GXjxWI8yRtMTNCGzBPs
 

Thanks for reading and until next time, stay warm, stay well and keep on creating!

Sam.

I'll be dipped indeed. Because here I am, tippy tapping another post only days after my last one. It's a miracle! Was I dropped on the head? Did I suddenly lose my sense of reason? Yeah nah, I'm just here because time is no longer for wasting and I may have a little more of it on my hands than I used to. And instead of dutifully folding the freshly dried laundry, I'm opting to spend my time today on more creative pursuits. Did some work this morning on dyeing fabrics, painted some of the concrete items that I've made, tidied up the basement a little bit, took some photos. It's been really nice....to ignore laundry and have a bit of "me time", slow down a little and just do some things I've been finding hard to find the time to do.

Anyway, I'm actually here for another purpose because I always have a lot to say about time but I'll save that for.....another time. I'm here today to talk about SHOPPING! A topic that quite a few of us could chew over considerably for hours. And I'll admit, I like shopping. It doesn't suck. As someone who has a past in retail, I've run the gamut from selling perfume, medications and condoms at a pharmacy (my first real job leaving school) to working at a high end department store. And also have worked at a less high end department store. So yep, I know my way around a mall, can visual merchandise like a champ, schmooze a customer into buying things they may not have originally planned, do a solid "open palm directional gesture" because pointing to where the mens jocks are is inappropriate and even 20 years after leaving the fancy store, can remember my register PIN number with clarity. No, I'll not be sharing those digits.

So as a consumer, I know what I like, know what I want and as I get older, know I don't need as much in life but I DO however want quality. And many may giggle since they know my years of hitting bargain stores, estate sales, thrift stores and so forth - and my love of a good garage sale. Let's not forget that! And I admit, I have a lot of stuff. But those days are beginning to fade - I no longer have much interest in getting out there looking for things that I don't really need. And I'm more driven now to get rid of the things that I do have in order to enjoy my quality of life better, surrounded by less. Quality over quantity - that is where I am now. And quite frankly, I'd much rather put my money into locally made or artisan than blow a wad of cash on more useless things that fill up our home.

I heard a saying in 2020, one of our favorite TV shows (hint drop: cowboys) was airing mid year and the characters were discussing the price of saddles and western wear. And one came out with the zinger "Cool shit ain't cheap, cheap shit ain't cool" and you know what? That really stuck with me and got me to thinking more about that. Consumerism runs all over the board and there is definitely a mentality of "cheap is best" - mass produced items from an international market, sent here for us to buy buy buy and then eventually it all gets pitched away and becomes landfill or clutter in thrift stores. Yet in the past year, I've heard the battle cry of "Buy American!" - more now than I've ever heard it. Buy Made in The USA! And yet, I wonder how many of those people saying it would pay an extra $10 more for something made in America instead of trotting off to Wallyworld and buying it for $10 less.....and it was made in China. Sadly, I think many would do the latter, not the former.

It's hard to change a collective mentality that is so great. I'm just as guilty as the next for being thrifty. But I've discovered that I'm okay letting go of many of the excess things I have in our home (vintage clothing for starters) in order to pay that little more for QUALITY and even more so, LOCAL. Yes, local made is a thing here in Dayton and it's growing and booming! Not just items that are in the more artistic and decorative realm, but items that are functional and practical. And that's where I want to keep my support going. These small businesses have worked hard, hustled even harder and put their time in to get themselves out there. They put their hearts and souls into what they do, what they create and deserve to charge accordingly. And I for one, will be happy to give them my support as much as I can. From food to furniture, hot sauce to hops, ceramics to cheese, art to aprons, bakers to booze - Dayton has a lot to offer with some pretty incredible creators and merchants out there as well as people offering services. And I look forward to exploring them all as time and funds permit.

So that's kind of all I really wanted to say here and the main point being, please try to shop local when you can and support the makers and shakers. Please don't be a cheap arse and try to bargain these people down or whine about the prices. They are just trying to make a living like anyone else and don't deserve to be treated with less respect just because they charge a little more than what you'd pay at the big box stores. You support the creators, you are helping them LIVE. And that's worth far more than a house full of cheap junk.

Well, time to wrap things up and before I go, I'd like to share a photo of a pair of great earrings that I purchased from a local artist - this guy creates the most beautiful decorative goods as well as extremely functional pieces out of skateboards! YES! REALLY! He does his thing, recycles old skateboards and makes divine works of art from all that. And I know that years from now, I'll still cherish them because I know where they were made, who made them and the love and care that went into them. And I hope that when I made my purchase, he did a little happy dance....because I can tell you right now, I did a little happy dance when I got them.

Righto - off I go for now. The laundry awaits my return to the real world.

Stay well, stay happy and stay out of trouble. And please....support local.

Sam.

No Knead Dutch Oven Bread - Plain White Loaf

3 cups of all purpose flour

2 or 3 teaspoons of kosher salt

Half a teaspoon of dry active yeast

One and a half cups of lukewarm water

Throw the flour into a bowl, add yeast and salt - lightly stir around with whatever gadget you have on standby. Add water, stir with wooden spoon or danish whisk until it's all incorporated and kinda shaggy looking. Cover with something and set aside in a warm place in your kitchen for 8 to 24 hours.

When you uncover it, it should be kinda foamy, kinda bubbly and gooey.

About an hour and a half before you want to bake this bad boy, place the sloppy goo onto a well floured surface (cover your hands with flour too and try to not cringe), form it into a ball shape making sure the top is nice and pretty and well floured. I actually find this easiest to do on a piece of parchment paper set on top of a wooden board which makes transferring a hell of a lot easier. Cover your pretty plump ball with a cloth and set back in that warm, snug spot for about an hour.

About 30 minutes before bake time, pre heat your oven to 450 degrees and put the dutch oven (with lid on) into the oven at the beginning of pre heat. You want that dutch oven and lid to get good and hot. When that 30 minutes is up, carefully set dutch oven onto your counter (use something to protect counter surface, use gloves for crying out loud) and gently move your pretty plump ball of unbaked bread into the dutch oven - placing it in there with the parchment paper underneath is perfectly fine and makes it easier to get it in....and out. If you are feeling fancy, slash (well, technically the term is "score") the top of your bread before placing into oven. Just get a sharp knife and slice a shallow slash or three into the top. Some people use fancy scoring tools and create all sorts of pretty patterns. I have not. I want to someday but for now, I just slash and dash.

Bake covered for 30 minutes, remove lid after 30 and bake for a further 12 to 15 minutes. Then remove dutch oven from the actual oven (so much oven), set on a trivet and remove pretty plump ball and parchment paper and set onto another trivet....or board....or whatever. Let it COOL before cutting because if you hack into it too soon, it will suck and be all gummy.

Trouble Shooting Tips

 - SPOON the flour into your measuring cup. Don't just shove the cup into the flour container and scoop the flour out. Because then your bread will be really heavy and dense. Take the minute to spooooooon it into cup before putting it into a bowl. Trust me.

- I could explain what the temp of lukewarm water means because I was oddly curious about the origins of this "temperature". I even wondered who Luke was. So I googled it. And encourage you to do the same. Rather interesting actually. But you'll find that packets of dry active yeast will tell you what a good temperature water is - I find about 100 - 110 is pretty on the mark and have a kitchen thermometer to check. Finally that thermometer is getting used for more than poking holes in the top of tin foil. Yay!

- Parchment paper is awesome. Make sure you buy the stuff that is able to take on temps up to 500 degrees. Not all ovens are created equal so be sure to check your bread after that first 30 minutes. Our old workhorse of an oven is a little fussy at times so I do the uncovered bake part for 12 minutes instead of 15 because I like to have my crust more of a golden color instead of too dark.

Anyway, there you have it my friends. Bread. Sounds complex but trust me, it's not. It's bloody easy and a simple recipe that anyone can do if they have a dutch oven. I opted to put the recipe up first because my personal loathing is to look up recipes online....especially on blogs, and you have to read and scroll past a load of bollocks by someone who have a yuppy name ending in "ley/lee" just to get to the good stuff. I'm very anti that. Can you tell? I solemnly promise that when I share a recipe, I'll always put it up first....and then I'll yap on about anything else. And if you choose to read on after the recipe, then cheers and thanks. If not, no worries.

Now I'd like to publicly state here and have it noted for the record, that I am NOT a baker or chef by trade. And nor will I ever become so. I'm not opening a bakery, I'm not suddenly going to pounce onto the scene like some apron clad, knife wielding ninja. I'm just like so many others who found themselves wanting to pass some time during this pandemic and learn new things. I'd no sooner call myself a baker than I'd fly to the moon. Nothing peeves me more than someone who figures out how to do shit and then suddenly bestows the title of that thing onto themselves (yeah that's a direct stab at anyone who picks up a camera, takes a few photos on automatic and suddenly tells everyone they are a photographer) - nope nope my friends. Not cool. You put in the years, you take professional instruction, you do the hard yakka - THEN you get the right to use that title. And I have no intent of heading off to culinary school or baking school or anything like that. I'm just a mad bitch in the kitchen, that is all. And I'm happy to share what I can do with friends or anyone who wants a feed.

There are some outstanding professional bakers in Dayton and in Ohio in general. As much as I enjoy baking, I also strongly support the local and small business scene - now more than ever, these small businesses need our support! So while I'll cheerfully fluff around in my home kitchen and make a mess and keep playing with food - I will also be a huge supporter and advocate for these local folk so if you want some solid recommendations, just shoot me a message and I'll tell you all about who has amazing baked goodness in the area. They are the true bakers here. Not me.

So there you have it. My first blog post for this year.....considering how bad I've been in the past two years about blogging, I'm hopefully going to keep the momentum and chat about whatever strikes my fancy. Music, fashion, food, local businesses, things and thoughts for whomever might care to read. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm outta here to play with fabric and bide my time until dinner. Because guess what I'll be eating? You GUESSED IT! BREAD!

Stay Toasty (pun intended as always)

Sam xx

Oh my. What a year hey? What can be said about 2020 other than "It was just a little bit extra"?

Anyway, here I am AGAIN. I looked at the last blog post which I created on March 16th this year, never published and realized that's when it felt like time stopped. My last memory of something that resembled normal and the time since has been a vapid blur of feels, moments, highs and lows. A whole lot of lows. But there's something to be said about a global pandemic for making one take stock and think a LOT about life. One minute I'm happily enjoying lunch and beverages with a friend (oh BEND AND SNAP), next minute we are told not to leave our homes and there is a freakish shortage of toilet paper. Yep, that was all sorts of extra.

So I don't blog often as you know, and I've felt kind of guilty about that. I've had this website for quite a few years now, used to blog a bit and then life kept evolving and changing and I just never got around to it as much. And to be honest, getting me to sit still for a length of time during the day is not an easy task. Ever since I began my life change with fitness and weight loss, I'm on my feet 10 hours a day, always moving, always doing something and staying as busy as possible so I don't slip back into old habits. Its been rewarding in many ways but I find it very difficult to stay put, especially on the computer. Considering the fact I pay for this website and it's features, well it's time to utilize that and release the thoughts that swim around in my noodle from time to time. Why I might even share recipes like some head banging, domestic diva - because like so many, I've been teaching myself how to bake, how to cook and other forms of creative pursuits in order to stave off boredom. 

I do hope to spend more time on this blog in 2021, jotting down thoughts and waffling on about things that I find might be important....or not. And while I'm stubborn and refuse to set goals for a new year - nor will I firmly make resolutions, I plan to commit more time not only to this blog but also to reworking this whole website yet again to better reflect the changes in the past few years as well as the changes that I hope are to come. This time has given me a chance to grow, learn and explore things in ways I never considered. I stopped looking at various situations in terms of right or wrong  and black or white, I had to examine everything from so many different angles and dig deep. To throw a nugget of wisdom out there - never let your shovel get so dull that you cant dig harder within yourself to find treasure.

Anyway, I'm ending this year with a determination and a hope that whatever the next 12 months will bring, that it's going to be as productive and as positive as I can make it. And it's time to stop stuffing around and make some commitments to myself in various aspects of life - in terms of what I do on a business level as well as a personal level. And as mentioned, this website is my first start. While I don't want a clean slate and certainly don't buy into the whole "out with the old and into the new", it's very much time to refine things, present my work better and be a more open version of myself with less filter. That may involve the occasional naughty word and some moments of bluntness. But I'd rather march to the beat of my own drum than follow the masses and not be true to myself. It's time to just say what I think, be as I am and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it. I may own my business but I am not my business - I'm a person first and foremost. So it's time.

Time. It's a pretty precious commodity isn't it? Something we can easily take for granted, something we value yet easily waste. And I plan to be more mindful of MY time in 2021, use it more wisely, distribute it a bit more carefully and as always, take the time I need when I need it to do the things I want to do. In years past, from January onwards, it feels like my time gets scattered to the winds and pulled in various directions and this is a chance for me to adjust the sails so to speak, take control and manage my time much better. I've tried the last two years to better how my time is spent and often have failed in order to appease others and that has to stop. When you juggle too many balls, something gets dropped and my business has suffered for that.

You see, people make the assumption that because I'm self employed; that my time is in abundance, that I sit here with all the time in the world to spare. And that I will drop everything I'm doing to meet their needs. And I hear the same from others in various fields - that because they run their own business, they must have allllllllllllll the free time in the world and can just do whatever they want at whim. And I'll speak for those people right now and say that is a 100% incorrect assumption. No! We do NOT have all the free time in the world. No! We do NOT have the magic ability every day to just wander away from whatever we are doing so we can slack off, watch TV, go out for lunch and flit around like birds. A creative soul isn't always the most business minded and can lose focus when distracted.

Most of the time when we are not doing what we want to be doing business wise, we are hustling. And when we are not hustling, we are creating. And when we are not creating, we are juggling this ball called life with our homes, our loved ones and the usual day to day things that are part of our existence. So no - my time isn't just something that others can expect me to give away whenever they think it suits them. My time is MINE and I will control it accordingly. I've not had a lot of control over the events of this year but I can control how I spend my time and plan to be more committed to this happening.

Which means a schedule and routine. Which means dedicated time each week to projects, to my husband and dogs, exercise, marketing, social media, to my home. And my goal for 2021 is to adhere to that schedule and routine as much as humanly possible. As well as that, I plan to try and detach myself from that little annoying gadget called a cell phone and have less online presence so I can be PRESENT in the here and now. In the real world. Time at night, when I finally stop for the day, that's when I can catch up on the more social aspect of life - maybe even a quick check in during breakfast. But in order to increase productivity, I need to stop staring at that little screen and responding to every message the minute I see it or hear it come in. We make ourselves so accessible on social media that I think sometimes people forget boundaries and have that expectation that someone will always be there on that little electronic device to answer them. So enough of that - I've got to step away from that with more frequency and have done a pretty good job the past few days I think.

Next topic! Yes I'm on a roll now. Still relevant to the above topic but veering slightly into a different direction. When it comes to how I spend my time, I want to do so with a lot of consideration, thought and purpose. It's time to shed a few bad habits of doing things that I've been trying to break away from for some time now. As life trots along and I get a little older, I've realized that I've somehow accumulated a house full of STUFF. And I'm beyond ready to simplify. As I told someone recently, life can be like a junk drawer and if its neglected, it will become cluttered and unmanageable. So it's really time for me to clean out my "junk drawer" so to speak, get rid of things that no longer bring me happiness or peace and break the habit of loading more stuff into my junk drawer. I can certainly live with less and that will allow me to appreciate what I have all the more. And when I do decide to hunt and gather, it will only be for things that help create joy and moments to cherish.

2019 was a year filled with so many amazing experiences and I realized that I was loading up my life with a ton of memories and filling my world with less clutter. Obviously for reasons we all can understand, 2020 was not filled with as many amazing experiences, not as memories created - and as things waddle along, it's unlikely that I'll be zipping into the new year doing more goat yoga or signing up for a flash mob or silent disco. I'm a realist, I know that even when these vaccines come out, the odds of the pandemic vanishing forever is very minimal at best and it may take years for life to revert back to something resembling normal. So again with the time, I'll be using it wisely in the year to come, spending it wisely on doing the things that make me happiest. And hopefully I'll manage to squeak in some great times with dear friends to create some memories that surpass all that I'd hope for.

And if by chance a silent disco happens - well that will be the icing on the cake. Even if it's in my front yard with my future new neighbors. Have disco balls, will disco.

So that's it for now my friends. It's the end of the year as we know it.......and I feel fine.

Stay well, stay happy, cherish your time and dance like you've got ants in your undies.

Sam.

As many know, my journey for weight loss started mid year and I'm happy to report that I've been losing it in the best way. Not that this has all been about losing weight, it's been more of a lifestyle change and a way to get fitter, stronger, healthier and re-shape not only my body but also the way I view myself and the way I live. Even with the holidays throwing all sorts of temptations at me, I'm not worried because I've learnt how to find balance in how I eat, how I exercise and am keeping a healthy attitude towards everything. I stand firm in that I'm not going to be the person who fusses about food. Life is far too short for that! I try to make smart choices and if I indulge a little bit, then I just make sure that I balance it with more exercise and wiser choices the next day. I hold myself responsible for all the decisions I make and continue to adapt and change as I need to.

The journey has been fraught with unexpected battles and my biggest challenges are more physical than mental. As a 45 year old woman who is facing the faint beginnings of menopause, as a person with no real training or expertise in exercise - well lets just say, the brain is willing but the body is what it is. Mid forties, a seething mass of changing hormones and prone to giving me fits when I don't do things "within reason" - yes, the brain says "RUN FORREST RUN" and the body yells, "you dopey bugger, you don't know what you are doing". But part of the joys has been realizing how much I actually like physical activity and while the aches and pains might bother me, they won't knock me down. Exercising has given me moments of mindless bliss where I don't need to think and when I do, it's about what I am doing and how I am doing it. It's also provided me with much needed time to myself where I can go for an hour walk and think of nothing other than walking and maybe singing along a little to great tunes. And when I hurt myself, well, read on....

Thank heavens for Google and Pinterest which is teaching me how to stretch, how to work out and how to tentatively mend the things that have cropped up in the past few weeks. And thank heavens for Amazon which saves me the embarrassment from having to go into the local drug store to buy a certain type of cream. Lets just say, these grapes are not from a winery in the Barossa Valley. And if there is such thing as a full body copper compression suit, call me. Another physical thing I'm losing much to my chagrin is the clarity of eyesight and thats something I'm not too thrilled about losing. My age, my screen time, lack of carrots - it's all taken a toll and things are a bit fuzzier than they were a year ago. So I get a bunch of "cheater" eyeglasses which even 3 months ago didn't need a permanent place on my head. And now they do. I'd like to say that wearing them makes me look clever and intellectual but mostly I bop around with them on top of my noodle, creating interesting hair styles that add some buoyancy to my limp locks and make me look slightly deranged. But they are there and I rely on them for reading now as well as looking at the calorie content of food. It's time to go pro and get them checked at an optometrist and I guess thats just the way the low calorie cookie crumbles. It sucks but it is what it is and thank goodness for technology that allows me to expand my computer screen so I can see what I'm typing.

So yes, I'm losing it. Losing weight and am taking great pride with my progress so far. When I started this journey, I was encouraged to start taking photos of myself so I could see the progress as things went along but I felt that was not something I was willing to do. I didn't need a photo or a selfie to know I was fat. I saw it every day in the mirror and when I looked at myself and the clothing hanging in my closet. Instead, I've chosen to remember what I was and acknowledge it but focus more about what I am now and what I am going to become. I don't want to look backwards - I want to look ahead. I now study myself in a mirror and I see the flaws, I see the years of living and I see the progress I've made and I can pat myself on the back and know that while I'll never have a perfect body, I've made great strides so far and will continue to do so. The future is ahead of me and each pound lost removes me from what I was - I've worked hard to get this far and I plan to never go back. I've found that this journey is best suited doing on my own - I'm not one to need someone to hold my hand as I do this, I don't really need someone at my side to motivate me. I feel that if someone can't do this on their own, they will not succeed. It might suit others to make it a team effort, but it's not for me. Encouragement is great and I'm so lucky to have people who are so supportive of what I am doing but in the end, I do this for me alone and I am accountable for myself and what I do. I am my own cheerleader, my own coach, my own critic. I remove the weight of other peoples expectations of me and I will feel lighter, more free.

As it stands, I am going at my own pace and where I lose it in other areas is more of the "losing my s**t" variety, especially when I've come this far and end up under scrutiny for what I do. Everyone is entitled to an opinion but to be judged on how much activity I do, when I do it, when I don't do it, what I put in my mouth? That is something I am not going to tolerate and those opinions can be put into the "stick it up your arse" box and thrown out into the trash. Because I am me, I am no-one else. I move at my own pace and am in this for the long haul so I have no expectation that the pounds are going to fall off like glitter on an ornament - slow and steady will win the race and given that I spent most of my life as a person who didn't exercise or take care of myself, well what I have achieved so far is pretty awesome. So don't bust my chops or deflate my balloon because I deserve better than that. There is encouragement and then there is condescending. Yes, I'm all kick arse now in my grunge bitch athletic wear and I've got the worn out runners to prove it.

The year ahead, the road ahead I'm sure will be filled with all sorts of bumps (hopefully not more of the grape variety) but I've learnt one thing, I am a fighter and am not going to let anything or anyone get me down.

As far as the rest of the losing it? Well I don't even know where to start on that. I've lost a few things this year - some on purpose, some not so much. But I also have to look at the gains, the things that have given me joy and wisdom and experiences and I spend every day trying to focus on that. Because while I strive each day to not gain any weight, I hope to gain so much more in other areas of life. Things like inner peace (so cliche I know), a more positive attitude, adventures and experiences - they are all things I want to gain more of. I will continue to lose physical weight and gain a whole lot more joy. I am gaining inspiration from the people around me, some are close to my heart, some I don't know well but they all are inspiring me in different ways. I recently read an instagram post written by someone I love and her words really rang a bell with me, she is one of the people who has inspired me and while our journeys are so different, her wisdom in her instagram post is applicable in every way. The message was simple, we are all different so don't judge how people do things. And thats good advice indeed.

On the topic of gaining, recently I had the absolute pleasure of going to a local college basketball game, the first one I had ever been to in this area and certainly it was far more exciting than the years gone by of sitting in the chilly gymnasium on very uncomfortable bleachers in the town where I attended high school. I was there with some long time friends who I adore, people I don't get to see often enough but when we do, it's always a fantastic time and we were there to support another expat Aussie who is a talented player, here for college. Thats an experience I thought I'd not have, something I might have avoided in years past based purely on the fact it was not in my comfort zone of what I know and normally enjoy doing. And with these great friends, some tense competitive moments on the court (and in the rather comfortable spectator seats), I had an absolute blast! Who knew that if you cheered loudly enough, people would throw food in the direction of the crowd who all whooped it up like happy hamsters? Why hadn't I done this sooner? Did I eat a little piece of free pizza? Yes I did. Because I may be losing weight but I've got nothing to lose by enjoying myself during fun adventures with friends. And I've got the foam finger as a reminder of that terrific day as well as the memories. There is no loss in that. I cheered a lot, I watched our friends team take the win and am ever so glad that I went. I gained and I'm happy for that.

The other part of losing it is now down to the tangible parts of my life - the things that surround me and the objects and items I hold dear. As someone who takes great enjoyment of various things whether it be fashion, art, kitchenware or knick knacks, well even I admit, it's time to let it go. Not all of it of course but weeding out is not a bad thing so I can appreciate the things I love most a bit more and not feel burdened by the things I don't love so much. Each trip to Australia, I'm strongly reminded of the ways of living simply there and then back here, I go to estate sales and see houses full to the brim of so much STUFF! Part of our recent trip, we stayed at a beautiful place in the Barossa Valley and the accommodations were thoughtfully designed, the provisions were on point and it was possibly the most stunning place I've ever been privileged to stay at. Simplicity at it's finest and I found a peace there that I really needed. Which made me realize it was time to think about "losing it", to maybe cull my collection and start enjoying life a bit more without being surrounded by so much. People mean more than things. Living means more than stuff crammed into a basement.

So thats my goal for the year ahead, to lose it in that aspect of life as well as others....and the continued quest to lose the weight as well. Because when I look at all the things I'm working on losing, whether it be a vintage dress, the expectations of others or my weight - somewhere along the line it is only a burden. And who wants to have that on their shoulders? Not this fuzzy eyed, weird haired, foul mouthed old ding bat. I shed the weight, I lose 50% of my current clothing, I buy more clothing, I shed more weight, I lose more clothing. But it's part of this process and if what I do helps someone else along the way, then thats another gain I'm happy with.

I guess thats about it really. Just thoughts that have simmered in the noggin for a while, finally getting placed into words. I'm losing it, proud of it and am looking forward to a year of losing more weight, more stuff and gaining more of the good things like adventures, pride and zest for the land of the living.

To sign off, I leave you with this quote which reminds me to be good to myself.

"When you are tired, learn to rest, not to quit"

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and all the best for 2019.

Sam.

In regards to the F Word - it wasn't what you may think. For me, the F word is one that I struggle with, dislike saying and try to avoid as much as possible. My close friends know that I'm not talking about the cuss word here because that I have no issue with. The word FAT however is one that I have subtly avoided over the years and it was a challenge to come up with suitable replacements that felt less harsh. Chunky, chubby, robust, rotund, curvy, heavy set, big boned - I've used them all as part of my self descriptions but I'm ready to face facts and reality and call it for what it is. Fat.

I'd never describe myself as overly obese but I've never been able to describe myself as a wisp in the wind either. And a few months ago, I hopped on the scale and realized that if I kept on the path I was on, I was going to be in serious trouble so it was time to make changes. This time, it wasn't about just losing weight but it was about readjusting my whole lifestyle, about committing to the long haul and rethinking the way I live. My husband was first out of the starting gate when he took up jogging and seeing him get up each day and commit to this was the inspiration I needed. There were other factors, other inspirations and people who have made little ripples of impact in my life which pushed me forward and so I strapped on my FitBit (aka Major Payne) and started to walk.

My starting point was rolling out of bed in my pajamas which really are just basic items of athletic wear, throwing on a hat, bra and flip flops and hitting the streets for a while to see how I'd go. The quick realization that flip flops were not suitable for walking any distance on hard surfaces got me scrambling quickly to the shoe store where I found something much more appropriate and then I knew I was in it to win it, ready to walk further, to create goals and try to smash the shit out of them each day.

Which I did. I felt myself going further, faster and feeling a small amount of self pride as I marched along each morning. Could I make ten thousand steps in one day? Yes. Could I make twenty thousand steps in one day? Sure thing! As the weeks went on, could I make ten thousand steps just during my morning walk? YES! And I marched on. There is no stopping me. Don't stop.

Don't Stop.

My mantra running through my head. Don't stop thinking about tomorrow. Don't stop me now, because I'm having such a good time, I'm having a ball. Don't stop till you get enough. Don't stop - soon to be inked onto my skin as a reminder to keep going on the path I've chosen.

"Don't stop now
No, don't stop now
Give me something I can write about
Give me something I can cry about"

- Crowded House.

Songs ran through my head, memories ran through my head, and each day, I thought back to the girl I was once upon a long time ago. From my teen years when I was never the skinny one, when I was told to watch my weight and when I ate the same as everyone else around me but still felt like I looked different to my peers and just never felt like I measured up to everyones standards. A few years back, I received a message from an old friend that included photos of myself when I was in my late teens and I was shocked because I barely recognized myself. All those years I thought I was so much bigger than others and yet the photos showed a young woman, not skinny but slender, tanned arms and legs, looking healthy and happy. And my heart aches for her - for spending so much time feeling out of place amid the others when the reality was, I wasn't much different. I want to say sorry, to say "wow girl, you look good" and to not have spent so much time feeling like a giant among the willows - because back then, I now know that I wasn't.

Then I fast forward a few years to my early twenties and thats when the weight crept on. Poor choices, poor decisions, poor lifestyle - it all added up over the years and while there were people out there who cared enough to try and prod me into changing my ways, I stood stubborn, not understanding why they cared. Not understanding why my health mattered so much to them. And for that, I owe them the greatest apology because now I understand. They saw someone self destructing not only mentally but physically and they only wanted to see me find a level of self respect that I sure as hell wasn't finding in bars and nightclubs.

But I go on. My life was a choose your own adventure book with twists and turns and my brain said "hey, we are not here forever so why the hell does it matter what I eat, what I look like", I made excuses and said it was self acceptance but in reality, it was denial. I wanted to stand up and shout "hey I'm chubby, who cares?" and this went on for years.....until I stood on that scale a few months ago and said "this is not good Sammo, it's time to stop coming up with excuses"

So that is where I decided to stop. To stop making excuses, to make the changes needed. To put one foot forward, then the next foot and to push myself as far as I could go because I realized it mattered, I mattered, my life matters. And while there were some things I could put a stop to, there were other things that drove me ahead "don't stop". At age 45, I wanted to look at myself with respect, to feel proud and to live the best life I could because there is so much to live for. I want to hold a great niece or nephew in my arms someday. I want to hold hands with my husband during a walk when we are in our 70s. I want to get up each day and feel good. I want to live.

We changed our eating habits which isn't as hard as I expected and I figure I've had 45 years of eating whatever I liked, so if this means not eating some things for quite a while, it's ok. It's a challenge sometimes but when I smash that last weight goal, I look forward to enjoying some reward in moderation and finding creative ways to make sure that what we put into our bodies is right for us without dragging us off track. Then it will be about maintenance and sticking with our exercise no matter what. Don't stop. Just keep walking, keep moving and find new challenges. I struggle to hear people make excuses about what they eat and try to surround myself with those who are supportive of my changes and are cheering me on.

So, along the way amid this great start to our lifestyle change, we decided to join the local rec centre so we had options for when the weather changes or makes it difficult to get the exercise we need. With a mixed bag of people, it's not too intimidating and has a great walking track as well as equipment that suits our needs. We started to buy up other types of athletic items for home so we could have a variation of goodies for those moments when we needed that extra adrenaline boost and with great glee, I named these torture devices. They teach me, challenge me and sometimes I may not do it all the right way - but at least I stopped making excuses and am doing it. I took control over things in my life and I've got up each day with purpose. Each day varied but I gave it my all with my usual humor and felt strong.

And then one day, that damn choose your own adventure book took us into pages that we certainly did not choose. This plot twist is hard to discuss and this is not the place to go into detail because I'm not the only character in this story. But I will say that it was the first time in my life that I thought to myself in those few seconds "is this it?" - of all the things I'd done over the years, all the stupid situations I put myself into through my twenties, was I going to die now? And I knew that I didn't want to. I didn't come this far to be taken now. A few seconds and a millions thoughts ran through my head, a few seconds and our lives have been changed beyond what we knew. We didn't die, we lived. The relief of seeing my husband on his feet was greater than knowing that I myself was standing.

So now the physical wounds are healing but the emotional wounds are there to come and go for the years ahead. And I've recognized the fact that if we hadn't already started our lifestyle changes, that if this event had happened a few months ago, we'd not have walked away from this as we have. I know I would have sat down and stopped and not got back up again. Don't stop Sam, don't stop. You mustn't stop. Stay strong for your husband, be his strength. I tell myself that each day and during the moments of darkness, I fiercely look for the light because I won't stop. I can't.

The physical exercise keeps me going now, it prevents me from falling into a hole that I can't climb out of. It gives the the focus I need. And I see the changes in my body and despite everything thats happened, I feel pride. I see the changes in my husband and I'm beyond proud of him because I know that we can get through anything together. And my hope one day that we will be able to walk along hand in hand in our senior years, sifting through memories and facing each day together so when one of us isn't feeling strong, the other can be and vice versa. We cant let this defeat us.

So thats the story so far. I won't apologize for not going into certain details, I do apologize for my lack of structure though since I'm no writer. Just a person on this earth who needs to keep moving ahead and to do so, I need to speak up. I need to write and release. Each day I get through my tasks, sometimes I don't want to go for a walk so I find an online workout video to try. I listen to my music to sometimes drown my thoughts and sometimes I succeed in that and sometimes I don't. I take stock of my progress daily and while I'm still a ways off from reaching my physical goal, I no longer think of myself as fat. I think of myself as an ongoing project that will never be perfect but having the acceptance in that is ok because nothing in life is perfect. I feel my clothing get looser and I am excited for all the changes to come. I may never be that slender young woman from the photos I saw some time ago but since there is nearly 30 years from then to now,  my body will go through more changes as I age, I'll take that with peace since I'm alive to see all that happen.

And as I make these physical changes, I also strive for other changes in my life because why stop? Don't stop. Removing negativity and drama out of my life has been a big thing on my goals list. Removing myself from people who place too much negative energy around themselves. I don't need that, not at my age. I want to live with joy, not be smothered down by other peoples issues. My life may have changed, it always will change in some ways but I can certainly take control of things if needed so I can live the best life that I've been given. I have a bucket list that I've been ticking things off in the past few years, well it's time to put more in that bucket and tick the crap out of it all. So if you see a crazy woman in a limo flashing her boobs and singing ABBA at the top of her lungs, well thats just me and my bucket list at play. And when it is my time, I can go with peace and say "well that was worth it".

No more excuses. No more fat. No more self loathing. No more. Don't stop. And get up each day and smash those goals. I am accountable for myself and I won't stop. Recent events won't define me or defeat me.

"Love this life. Don't wait until the next one comes" - Crowded House
 

Sam.

How to schedule a trade session - 

If there is availability for a session, then it is generally required that the person/s booking the session attend a consultation/fitting at least 4 weeks in advance prior to session. This allows for accurate fit of clothing and any accessories required. It will be discussed between myself and the person/s during the consultation of a suitable date, time and location for the portrait session. Some exceptions will be made if someone cannot attend a consultation due to distance but they will be required to supply information such as height, clothing size, shoe size and accurate measurements.

Trade sessions include 10 fully edited images that WILL be watermarked and one vintage themed short video for social media purposes. All person/s will be tagged on social media if images/video are posted unless otherwise discussed beforehand. Images from sessions will be available for the person/s to download full size on the Riley Street Vintage Photography website within 14 business days of session. Vintage video will be available to view on Instagram within an hour of session ending.

All trade sessions will require the person/s to complete and sign a model release form. NO EXCEPTIONS. Un-watermarked images will only be available and released for a fee owing to the photographer. Not all images from a session will be available, only the ten edited, watermarked images will be released.

Riley Street Vintage Photography requests that all person/s scheduled for trade sessions arrive to consultations and sessions in a timely and prompt manner. Excessive and frequent lateness will not be tolerated and any no-shows will not be re-scheduled. If cancellation is required, please give 48 hours notice. Failure to do so will result in no future rescheduling. If weather hinders the on location sessions, it will be at the judgement of RSVP on whether to re schedule and 48 hours notice will be given.

When attending a trade session, for better quality images, please have nails neat clean and groomed and please do not chew gum during sessions. RSVP will instruct on the appropriate foundation garments that will be suitable according to the outfit selection for sessions. If RSVP is supplying jewelry and shoes, these items will be sanitized prior to session. If a session is scheduled with swimwear or dance garments, RSVP will supply suitable hygiene products that MUST be worn with garments of this nature.

While RSVP does allow for person/s to bring a guest to on location sessions, it is a request that for consultations that the person/s attend on their own as the clothing collection is housed in a private residence - RSVP is happy to supply character references upon request. Please ensure your guest at on location sessions do not interrupt the session in any way and cell phone use during sessions is strongly discouraged. Any cell phone photos taken by a guest DURING session will result in session being stopped and cancelled. It is distracting to the photographer so please if asking your guest to take cell photos, to do so before or after session.

Many of the garments in the RSVP collection are old and fragile so please handle with care when trying on/wearing. While I am happy to supply these items for the wearer during RSVP trade sessions, we do not loan out items from the collection at any time or for use with other photographers. A majority of the collection is not for sale so please do not inquire about purchasing.

The goal for trade portrait sessions is for both RSVP and the person/s scheduled to enjoy the process and collaborate together to create some wonderful photographs. Please attend your session with a positive and joyful manner. Any disrespectful behavior to RSVP or any other person/s involved in the session such as stylists/make up artists/hair stylists, will not be tolerated and the session will be cut short and cancelled. Egos are not welcome.

Thank you for reading and please know that RSVP will strive to create a fun and memorable portrait session for you.

Samantha Hughes - Photographer.

Riley Street Vintage Photography

937 477 2192.

The starting point is today, in the here and now and I'll just take little steps back to my beginning as I go. Today is Monday, my day to clean my house and get things in order after the usual fun of weekend and as I scrub the house, do the laundry and get everything tidy, I pause every now and then to look on social media and skim Amazon for interesting things and to order any household supplies I may need. Cleaning supplies, decor, personal care - its all there at my fingertips, ready to click and get what I need posthaste. Paper towels in bulk shipped in two days? Got it. Cruelty free shampoo for fine and limp hair? Check! And while ordering the essentials, if something cute happens to land in my cart like melamine dishes that look like paper plates, well so be it.

So as I go about my business, I ponder the convenience of this online shopping since I don't have to battle the stores and the people to get my really good goods. I just click and I'm done. But I'm always aware as I do so, of how this modern method of shopping takes a huge toll on the brick and mortar businesses, how stores across the globe both big and small are starting to die off and close their doors as online retail becomes more accepted method of how people get what they need.

I think back to how large malls affected small businesses, how big box grocery chains demolished the small family run merchants and how as people moved from small towns or urban areas into the more desired suburbs, all the little stores that were once a main stay just quietly whimpered into a non existence. And now, online shopping gets it's revenge on those big stores, those sprawling malls.....and at what cost? Now we are starting to end up with vast concrete ghosts, empty department stores that will decay and rot until someday they get torn down and something gets built over the top of these retail graveyards. Another store? A car sales lot? A church? A distribution centre? Who knows?

On a rather odd plot twist to this blog post - did you know that Harry Selfridge of the great Selfridges department store was the genius who came up with the concept for the perfume/cosmetic department being placed at the entrance to his department store? The logic for this was that back in the day when horse and cart was the method of transportation, the smell of the entrance to the store would mask the odors from the outside. In other words, avoiding the place from smelling like horse shit. Anyway, just a little retail fact for you - now you know.

So onwards (or backwards) in the story now. To my days in retail which is why I personally feel invested in the topic of stores and what has happened in the past to what will happen in the future. I realize that by shopping online, I am contributing to the demise of the retail giants and I do very much try to balance that out by shopping small businesses, by supporting privately owned stores and while I'd much rather do that than hit the big box stores, my own past in retail actually started with a chain store - the local AMCAL pharmacy where I was employed at the tender age of 16 to be a sales clerk. It's frightening to me to think of that being nearly 30 years ago now but it was the platform and beginning of a long career in retail (with the occasional dip into hospitality along the way) and while those days are a faint memory, it was my foray into the grown up and elite retail world at a high end department store where I feel like my story really began.

Considering my higher level education was iffy at best, there wasn't a lot of option for me in gainful employment so during my early 20s, I was meandering along as a nanny, a waitress - basic jobs that required not a lot of grace and spared a lot of time to party which many self respecting 20 somethings found highly important at the time. I don't recall the push that sent me in the direction of applying for a job at Myer Grace Bros but somehow, I found myself going for an interview. Dressed in black and white which was the requirement of interview and I somehow cobbled together a look that could only been described as "op shop chic" since my waitress wages didn't stretch to anything designer or fancy.

Amazingly I must have come across as half way presentable and I scored the golden ticket, a trainee position at one of Australia's most respected department stores (sorry not sorry David Jones) and thus my career in retail just went up a notch. This was back in the day when training was extensive and successful applicants actually had to attend a mandatory three day course where we were taught the finer art of being a sales associate. We had to dress the part, look the part, talk the part and become an upstanding representative of the store. Which for a country kid with a lousy history of education, well it was daunting to say the least. We were to count change back to the customers always, one simply did NOT point a guest of the store to the department they sought, one had to use the open palm gesture like a game show hostess and if time permitted, escort the guest of the store to the area they wished to be and find someone to assist them. Of all the countless things we were taught in training, these ones stuck with me like glue.

Then it came time to actually start employment at the store I was hired by and through the first twelve months there, I was to be placed in different departments for my traineeship. I started off in the toy department which was fun but daunting as it was nearly Christmas, then on to shoes and accessories (didn't love at the start but finally enjoyed), then to books and stationary (loved) and then in a scary move - they placed me in Miss Shop where all the cool kids played and I was terrified!! The glamor, the chill music, the trendy jean wearing staff looking trim and terrific. I felt like a fish out of water and full of fear - this was the second coolest department in the store (music department being the coolest) and I felt like a floppy mistake - that I didn't belong and should be back in the shoe department cramming size 8 shoes onto size 10 feet.

But lucky for me, those fears were quickly abated as the girls in Miss Shop quickly became friends and took me in as one of their own. This also was rather exciting as it was seldom known that the landline on the one side of Miss Shop was one of only a few phones in the store that you could call long distance and out of the store. So my months there were spent cleaning out fitting rooms and trying to not cower when angry parents came in to return the trendy "distressed jeans" that their little angels purchased for $120. Three months in each department, 12 months of training and then the next move.....

Well, while the details/timing is a little fuzzy, I think I was oddly chosen to be a part of the Christmas section which was thoughtfully planned and put into place each year - a temporary department that for a short while glimmered with the joy and festiveness of the holiday season. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to put me there but it's a great memory and I had the pleasure of doing that a few years in a row. And then after the season had passed, I was then told of my newest and most permanent position in the store and well, needless to say, I was less than thrilled. Especially after being with the cool kids in Miss Shop and then the Christmas section....they wanted me to go full time into Cooks Kitchen! The kitchenware section of the store! GASP!!! WHAT? Again with the social suicide. Thanks Myer. I had two options - take it or leave it. So I took it unwillingly and oddly enough over my time there, it became my favorite place to be and probably explains my deep rooted addiction to kitchenware. Hence the melamine dishes mentioned in earlier part of the post.

Through all this, I gained a lot of knowledge about the wonderful world of retail, was taught so much and got a huge insight into people in general because like any business, some of the quirks come from the customers who ranged from the every day to the totally bizarre. And like many of my comrades at Myer, there are stories that could fill a book, stories that went on to become legend and oft discussed in the break room during the Days of our Lives commercials. Another amazing part of this retail journey were the people I worked with. During a time in my life when I was emotionally lost and often very lonely, these people along the way became not just friends, but also family. We were a team, we were there to support each other, a social network within a store and like many families, we bickered, we fought, we cried, we laughed and then got up and did it all over again the next day. Through my years at Myer, I found love, I lost love, I triumphed in many ways and failed in many ways. But unlike any job I'd had in the past or since, I truly loved that place and the people there and was genuinely sad to leave.

It would take me forever to cover all the memories, and how can I even begin to describe the people I worked along side? Since I'd spent so much time being a bit of a "floater", I had the adaptability to cover many of the departments and never minded being asked to cover a shift or break in areas that I was unfamiliar with. And of course it felt like I'd won the lotto whenever I got asked to get behind the music counter which rarely happened but oh wow I loved it when it did. One grand memory of the music department was entering to win a signed picture of the singer Shawn Mullins - even though staff were not supposed to enter, not many people knew of this artist and I had stiff competition of only three other entries. Despite there being a re-draw a few times, each time my name on the slip of paper came out of the box and it was decided that it was just meant to be. Much to the horror of my housemates who didn't want this hanging on our living room wall since Shawn's eyes followed them everywhere. Personally I was delighted. Born to shimmer, born to shine and all that! Don't know of Shawn Mullins? Look him up - terrific singer and musician.

Back in the day, the store had a restaurant (a cafeteria really) which was independently contracted by another company and somehow I started covering some shifts in there when they were short staffed which led to being employed by that company part time until it closed down. I also somehow ended up working for the cleaning company at the store (again, different contractors) so at one stage, I was working three different jobs under the one roof. There would be days where I'd clean the store in the morning, change and then work on the sales floor and then other days I'd work in the cafeteria and head to the sales floor after that smelling faintly like roast beef. It was a challenge but I was making good money and enjoyed the variety of work although the cleaning gig came to an end due to the boss being a grabby bastard who tried to get a bit too close for comfort.

Ironic since I look back on those days where we all did and got away with things that would never fly in this PC world we live in now. Sexual harassment wasn't even something considered back then and I'd never even think of some of the things I saw then as being out of the ordinary. It was life - a bunch of men and women who blew off steam by photocopying bums, pulling pranks and even hooking up in the stock rooms. To those who read this, to those I worked with - its a safe bet to say we can all look back and not once think of a time when we felt uncomfortable? Maybe things got a bit gross at times (being in an elevator with farting brothers - yeah, you Smith boys) and having to smell it from the top floor to the bottom, but we were a family there and it was all just part of life. We worked hard and then when we were off work, some of us played hard.

Time moved along, things started to change and the store tried to adapt to the shifting needs of society. Departments moved around, some merged, some went away, the cafeteria became the book department and somewhere during this time, the golden age of retail lost it's shine and it was evident to all that things were no longer the same. While we tried to put on happy faces, the quality of what once was had shifted and was taking a very slow ride downhill. It was less time spent with the "guest" (customers) and more about making sales and herding them through checkout like cattle. I'm not going to lie, that was a tough transition and very hard to see, especially when I go back to my training where we were taught the importance of balance - treating the customer like a welcomed guest, subtly working the add on sales angle and catering to all their needs without being pushy or annoying. It really was an art form and it's held me in good stead over the years as really it was about reading people and knowing when to stop forward and when to step back.

My beloved Cooks Kitchen was no longer a happy place where I could work on end caps, display serving ware and talk to customers about the best fry pan to buy (and maybe some pretty dish towels too to make a practical purchase feel less unexciting?) - and in another bold move, I ended up in the security team which is another story within itself. Now that was where it got nitty gritty and while I'm not sure it was the best move for me, it was like delving into the underbelly - into the dark side with a team that included our fearless leader Bev - so tall and elegant but could instill the fear of god into anyone. The lovable joker Dave who went badarse in a heartbeat with his plummy accent and of course my Myer Mum Brenda who loved me despite me being a frustrating and immature shithead.

That last year at Myer was a juggle of still being on the sales floor in Cooks Kitchen from time to time, a not so stealthy ninja in the security team and on top of that, I went back to my hospitality roots when I nabbed a job at The Ambassador, a large motel/occasion venue that wasn't actually part of Myer at all. My day would start with serving breakfasts to old farts (good morning Rotarians) and holiday makers, I'd then run down the road with orange juice stains all over me, ready to get back to Myer and get to work there. Those were the days.......not much sleep, still too much party party.

The stories and the memories? I'll not go into too many of those otherwise I'll be here all day and not finish my chores. But here is an overview....

1. Customer tries to return white sweatpants and swears black and blue that she never wore them - regardless of the fact that there were obvious crotch stains and a lighter that fell out of the pocket. The good old days when we didn't have to say YES to every customer and management stood behind us on such things.

2. Customer tries to return a frying pan for a refund - regardless of the fact that she didn't actually have the frying pan on her, or the receipt. Yet she demanded her money back and it goes without saying, that she didn't get it. Nor did her imaginary friend.

3. Customer tries to return a toaster after claiming he cut his fingers when he tried to pull out the toast. Upon questioning, it was discovered he was putting thick slices of homemade bread into a standard size toaster. Reporting this to management, I'm told to go out there and tell him to stick a knife in to get the toast out instead (yes, sarcasm was needed in that circumstance) - its hard to file a return with a straight face when colleagues are all standing behind the man laughing their heads off.

4. Being made to wear customer service sashes which made us look like highly pissed off beauty queens.

5. Having a customer come to the Christmas section to buy one of the yearly christmas bears for her sister who'd just passed away. She'd got one for her sister every year and was so heartbroken - I chased her down in tears to give her a hug because I hated that she was walking through the store so sad and alone.

6. Scrounging through the sanity napkin bins for merchandise that a shoplifter had shoved in there.

7. My first call as a first aider was a woman pregnant with twins. They taught us burns, snake bites and CPR in first aid but NOTHING about child birth. After the pregnant woman bleeding profusely on the floor and getting whisked away safely by medics, we (other first aiders and I) were called upon to rummage through the trash bags to look for placenta. Barf. FOUND IT!! Kate deserves the credit there, she rummaged way harder than I did.

8. Spying a known offender shooting out of the store with a "liberated" DVD player, I hoofed it and chased him up the street despite being off duty and about to head out on a date wearing high heeled boots. Another time, chased an offender down the main mall escalator whilst in casual gear.....and high heeled boots. Why? Because as I often did, I'd go into Myer to hang out during my off hours. Because it was home.

9. Walking past the electronics department and coming to a stand still as people all gathered with tears in their eyes, watching the news report on the big screen TVs announced that Princess Di was killed in a car accident.

10. Sitting at Jamaica Blue which was in the food court right outside the store and hearing the news of the Port Arthur massacre. One of Australia's deadliest mass shootings.

These are just the memories of working at the store. The memories of all the social events that Myer staff attended when off duty, well those remain sacred and remembered by those who were there. Some of these events were arranged by the stores social club, other memories are from non work related events because despite the fact we all worked together, we also got together in our off hours to celebrate special occasions....or just for a good night out. Because we were friends and in our own whacky way, we were family.

I still remember the sadness of handing in my two weeks notice as I got ready to start my new chapter in life. So many of my Myer family were so supportive of what I was about to do - to fly to another country and marry the man I met and fell in love with. Without their encouragement and support, I'm not sure I'd have made this journey but just as they were there to boost me up and guide me through my years at the store, he was waiting across the pond to get me through the next chapter in my life and that is a story that still has many chapters to go.

My last day at Myer, the sounds of Jeff Buckley playing on the overhead "this is the last goodbye" and John Denver's "leaving on a jet plane" still rings in my ears. The farewell party of all the faces I'd come to know and love was epic. The giant card signed by this retail family still safely stored away 17 years later. I may forget names now, some people I knew well and some not so much but they all played a big part in my life.

Much love to all that worked there with me, you are all amazing humans who I think about often and thanks to the joy of social media, I still get to catch up and see how your lives go on. Tim - I haven't forgotten that "talk" we had in the food court downstairs. I can't fathom how difficult that task was for you and I'm sorry you had to give me that kick up the arse. Jayne, sorry for slamming my fingers in the register and bleeding all over the place. Thanks for the love you gave during one of my darker times. Kate, thanks for teaching me so much and for being the strong one as we rooted through those trash bags. Smith boys and their lovely ladies, thank you for letting me be in your family outside of the workplace and for all the farts. Go Blues! Shilo, thanks for the zit squeeze memories and for making me not feel so weird about hanging with the cool kids in Miss Shop. Brenda, thank you for being my Myer Mum and for caring for me so much. To all those not mentioned here, you know who you are - I loved you all then as family and still do. You are part of my memories and nothing can change that.

So that concludes my journey in retail for the most part. I moved overseas, went back into retail at a few places and continued on that course for some years until my amazingly supportive husband saw what I could do in other fields and allowed me to pursue those dreams. I learned a lot at all of these stores but Myer was always my Holy Grail and my home. The one place I'd gladly walk into on my days off to hang out and get suckered into working an extra shift. I may have whinged at the time but secretly, I was glad to be an asset to the store and part of a team.

And now this takes me back to the story of retail overall. As the big stores start to close, I wonder how the story ends for the staff of these places, I wonder if their lives were any way enriched or changed by their place of employment? I wonder what is to come for retail and will there be a shift back to the smaller business that are independently owned? Or will online shopping replace all? It's hard to say and while I miss the golden era of retail where customer service was considered an art form, the lack of proper training and the drive for sales and quantity over quality sadly has reduced that art form to the basic tapping of a key board instead and the click of a button. 

But on the bright side, those melamine dishes that look like paper plates are sure going to look damn cute and I'll have enough paper towel to survive a zombie attack thanks to online ordering. So if thats the future, so be it.

Thanks for reading and to all the good folk still in retail out there - I salute you.

Sam. 41877 - Myer 19?? to 2001.

Originally I was going to title this blog "Amazing Grace" but that smacked a little of something that I have no involvement in and while the word "grace" can mean so many things, lets be honest....I'm not the most graceful creature on this earth. I think deep inside, I was trying to think of a word that describes where I am at this point of my life and how I'm working to evolve and improve myself in so many ways.

Serenity is a good choice of word and there are many others that can cover this topic but like all things in life, there are variables and changes that occur that keep me from reaching a true state of serenity....or grace.

So where do I start here? Do I delve back in time or just stick with the current program? And how do I really define things? Hmmmm, questions questions within myself. I guess thats a good place to start as any - on the topic of questioning ones self and digging deep into the core of who I am as a person, where I am at now and where I am going.

I've found myself recently doing a lot of self reflection, thinking about life and all it's parts and what makes me happy, what makes me mad and what I can do to better myself as a person overall. I've never skipped through life thinking "Well, I'm just the bees knees and a full packet of chips", more often that not, I've been the reverse. Beating myself up with my own inner bully and not being kind to myself but as I've grown older, I have realized that it's not okay to be so unkind to myself, that as long as I learn from what I do and allow myself to grow, then I can at least say I'm one bees knee and half a packet of chips. Because while it's good to be proud, arrogance isn't a virtue and there is nothing more off-putting than an ego inflating like a good year blimp. A personal pat on the back for a job well done is fine but when you go through life saying how much better you are than others, well thats never been a part of who I am and I don't want to be around that when I see it in others.

The things I've been working on to achieve inner grace and serenity? Well for starters, I'm trying to be more of a positive person. I know some might be surprised that I'm a secret negative Nancy but I can be a grumble guts, and piss and moan as hard as the next person. This is not just expressing positivity within myself but also at others. To say less bad and say more good. Even if I'm feeling very negative about something, I'm trying to not open my mouth and let the negativity flow out but speak more positively.

Which reminds me of something I learnt years ago in terms of business - always lead a negative with a positive. That stuck with me but in personal circumstances, I'm just going to omit the negative bit.

Some might say they like honesty over positivity and yes, that can be true in many ways but there are people out there who use honesty as a cloak for judgement and criticism and it's been one heck of a party trick to see that invisible cloak and find whats really hiding underneath. But I can see now, I've whipped that cloak off of people and exposed the reality which isn't pretty. So in my positive polly way, I've removed myself from those who are "honest" and am feeling much better for it.

Now I'm not saying I'm going to skip through this life like a chunky little kitten singing "fah la la la laaaaaah" but I'm walking along with my eyes open and finding more peace within myself for taking away as much negativity as I can. And I'm still going to falter, I'm still going to open my mouth at times and say things that I shouldn't but I'm also accepting of that and as long as I stay aware of what I put out into the universe and check myself from time to time, all is good.

Other things I've been working on are small and simple things like acknowledging when I need alone time and making sure that happens - as much as I love being busy and social, there are times when I just want to hang out at home and potter around and do crafty things. Or take myself off on a little adventure which is usually just to a thrift shop or grocery store. Ha! But still, I've always been at ease with my own company and it's nice to just allow myself the time to chill out. This isn't anti social behavior, this is just self preservation and finding balance.

When I am being social, I'm trying to kick it old school and put the phone down or away in my bag. When I visit with friends, I want them to know they have my undivided attention instead of checking my phone for texts, messages and calls. We got by 20 years ago without cell phones and survived so it's not that hard to just put the phone away and be a bit more present. It's a work in progress but I plan to try harder and just enjoy peoples company without the distraction of electronics. I hope people will do the same for me! Lets lift our heads up and look around us and be present in life instead of living in an electronic world. And yes, I see the irony in that right now as I sit here tippity tapping on the computer.

I'm finding myself wanting to feel more independent and live my own life instead of trying to integrate into others lives. And I strive for that, I don't want to live someone else's life, I just want to live my own life because it's a pretty darn good one and I am so appreciative of what I have with my darling husband, dogs, home, family and friends. While I'm always trying to improve myself, the aforementioned parts of my life? Well, I'd not change a thing. They are the beings who give me strength and while I want to improve myself for me, it's also for them.

I think in summary, we are all the authors in our own book of life and while we can't erase the pages written in the past, we have the power to write new words in the pages to come. And only we can decide what those words will be. So for me, I'm going to opt to speak more good of people instead of bad, be kind and conscious of my own well being, shut down negativity and arrogance from others if it arises and enjoy the chapters of life that I have left. And to allow myself to continue to evolve - to fix the mistakes I make and further seek inner grace and serenity.

So when it comes to the final chapter in hopefully many years from now, I can say "well that was a bloody good read with some interesting plot twists" and to quote the great Neil Finn, "Love this life - don't wait till the next one comes".

Peace out!

Sam.

This is a topic that I have been pondering for a while now and I'm not sure what inspired the original thought but it's simmered here since last summer and now it's time to put words to screen and put my thoughts to action. I am using the word "labels" which I think stems from the background I have with fashion and can translate to this story - there are other words which I could use, such as "titles" or "definitions"  or even "descriptives" but for the sake of consistency, I'll use the word "labels" and hopefully I'll be forgiven for that.

Labels start the moment we are born. From the little band that is carefully placed on our tiny wrists to identify our gender and who we belong to. We are immediately born with the label "male" or "female" and from our first breath, are labeled daughter, son, granddaughter, sibling, nephew and so on. And of course whether it be truth or a lie, we get cute and adorable as labels from that moment, even if we are just shriveled little crying prunes. At that stage, we are not formed as anything other than a baby.

Time moves on and as we start to develop our personalities and grow into our skin, we start getting labels from others around us - from our family and their friends and the people our parents meet. Cute is always the predominant label through the first year since we are yet to reveal who we are but we may get ones like fussy, good, quiet, peaceful, playful - all depending on how our behavior reveals itself and how we are perceived from that. It's not so bad, we are still protected by the shroud of youth and for a blissful time, we are just allowed to be our truest selves.

Then as we get older and into the walking, talking part of life, we start to form stronger personalities, we start to react to the environment we are in and adapt to the lives we are born into. We of course have the labels of our gender, our looks, our religion and race by that point and as our world grows bigger, the more labels we start to get. Serious, silly, pretty, ugly, funny, smart, stupid - all labels given to us by others to describe who we are. Whether we like it or not, we are given these to help others make sense of who we are.

Childhood through to teen years are such important years for us as we expose ourselves to the universe and as we are around more people, we are given more labels - many times by our peers but this too is when we start giving ourselves labels. As we expand our thoughts and start to look inward to ourselves, we may label ourselves according to our behavior, our looks and our personalities. Sometimes they are good labels, sometimes not so good and are at times, influenced by how others see us. Fat, thin, beautiful, ugly, intelligent, stupid, dreamer, witty, studious, cheeky, trouble maker, rebellious. More labels.

Fast forward now to adulthood and we gain labels according to our relationships, our social status, our employment, our behavior and our views. By this time, we have jobs, we've formed our lives according to our labels and our environment. How we live is how we are perceived and as we get older, some of the labels we are given or have given ourselves become a burden. Sometimes those labels start to wear on us and become something we no longer celebrate or want. For some, it's a case of having a gender label that no longer feels right. For others, its a label in reference to sexuality that no longer fits. As we delve into thought, we may want to shuck our religious labels for various reasons and with race, we may find many labels given to us to be offensive and hurtful.

So how do we deal with all this? How to change and adapt the labels we are given or give ourselves? For many of us, we embrace the labels we are given, especially the labels that paint us in a flattering light. But what to do with those labels that are less than desirable? Do we want to hang onto all the labels that define us? And are we as capable of not labeling others? Why do we label others?

I ask these questions without knowing answers. In some ways, we can change our labels by adjusting our lifestyle choices and embracing the reality of who we are. And there is no shame whatsoever in being proud of some of the labels that we've carried our whole lives whether it be based on our skin color, our religion, our relationships or our personal behavior.

But can we stop labeling others? In the day and age of the internet, we have immediate access to a huge world around us and are exposed to so much. And can immediately connect to people across the globe, people who are strangers, people who we label upon sight because we want to try and make sense of them and place them into a category that suits our mindset. We respond visually to words and images and our first instinct is to label a person - because we can. I see words being placed upon random strangers because of their looks, their political beliefs, their sexuality, their religion, their race. And those words, those labels are usually thrown around in a negative manner. I see grown adults - people I personally know, use labels to insult others and I wonder why.

Is it because they are scared of what they don't understand? Is it because they want to feel superior? Is it because they are incapable of understanding the labels that don't match theirs?

Again, questions without answers.

And before I continue here, I am not going to let myself sit here and judge those who label others because I am just as guilty of it as the next person. We all are. We all want to find a label or definition for others to tidy the box so to speak. We use labels as a reactionary measure. But I wonder, I truly do wonder, what if we started to take away labels? What if we stopped using labels to describe ourselves or others? Even if we just took away some, would it help unify us more as a society or cause chaos?

So I look into myself and ask myself what labels I'd like to adjust within myself. The ones I've been given or given myself over 44 years. Labels I've carried through life based on my personality, my background, my relationships and my appearance. I'm proud to be called wife, I'm proud to be called creative, I'm proud to be called funny, I'm proud to be daughter. I've been labeled fat - am I proud of that? No! Can I change it? Yes. I've been labeled feral because of my upbringing. Do I like that label? No I do not. Can I change that? No. It's how someone else has perceived me from an upbringing that I cannot change. I struggle with political labels personally since I don't wish to identify with any political party and as someone raised without religion, I don't identify with any of the religious labels.

I sit here and type this and my dogs come to see what I am doing. I hate to label myself as "owner" of these dogs since I don't feel like I own them any more than they own me. Yet I know many would dispute me using the label of "mother" since I didn't obviously give birth to these two creatures who have hearts and breathe the same air I do. But I love them with every ounce of my being so I will stand and use the label "mother" because how else can I label myself? Ultimately when I sort through all my personal labels, I am just me. I am me.

There is no conclusion here and I wish I could make sense of my own thoughts sometimes. As much as I wish we could stop labeling ourselves and others, I see no end to it. If we don't consider the matter, we will continue using labels to define and insult instead of trying to grasp the bigger picture of other human beings. Which takes us to the label of "narrow minded" which is a label I certainly don't wish to personally have. So in my head, I will quietly peel back the labels I place on others and myself because ultimately when we peel back the labels, what is underneath?

Flesh and blood. Conscious thought, DNA, hearts that beat until they no longer beat. No matter how many labels we have in life - black, white, straight, gay, religious, atheist, smart, stupid, male, female, son, daughter, republican, democratic, creative, intelligent and so on, we are united in breath, united by death. The inescapable end that that comes to us all no matter what label we have.

And for now, thats all. The end.

Footnote - I have opted to work on this subject as part of a creative personal experiment and will continue to do so with a series of videos and photos. There is no merit points, no timeline, no guiding force other than a need to create thought and expand my own level of growth as a person. If you are interested in seeing the videos, please feel free to follow me on Instagram or my business page on Facebook under Riley Street Vintage Photography. 

Why yes, yes it is. Because it's time to make up for......lost time.

So why a second post you ask? Well, let me explain. Grab a coffee or any beverage of choice (no judgement here), sit a spell and read all about what Riley Street Vintage Photography is going to have on offer in 2018. Because it shall hopefully give you a clearer overview of what services I will be providing within my business. Answers to some FAQs and other relevant information.

Q. What photography services do you offer?

A. RSVP will be offering a vast range of sessions customized according to a clients needs. With a huge expanse of vintage fashions, accessories and props at my disposal, I will strive to create custom sessions that are as wonderfully unique as my clients are. These sessions include a free consultation and fitting to ensure everything runs smoothly for every session. This encompasses:

*family portraits

*senior portraits

*engagement sessions

*head shots and portfolio building sessions

Q. What do you not offer?

A. At this stage, RSVP no longer accepts bookings for weddings and does not specialize in baby portraits or children's portraits. If you are needing recommendations for photographers who do cater to these particular genres, I am more than happy to assist in guiding you to the right photographer who can meet your needs.

Q. What other photography services do you offer?

A. I am very passionate about small businesses in the vintage & antiques field as well as hand crafted & locally made products and will be focusing a lot of time in 2018 to offering great value photography packages to small business owners, whether they have a store front or operate from home and sell independently online. It is my mission to provide them with quality images for them to use in advertising and promotion on social media or any other avenue they choose. Interested in more information? Please contact me with any questions you may have.

Q. Do you have a studio space?

A. No, currently at this time I do not. I enjoy the freedom and creativity of working on location and work hard to source fun and scenic locations for sessions that suit my clients needs. However it is a goal to eventually have a studio space in the future which will enable more flexibility for sessions. I hope to meet this goal by 2019.

Q. What kind of hours do you have? What other services do you offer?

A. Well my hours are as flexible as the wind and I try to schedule sessions at suitable times for my clients. As a photographer, quality of light is always important and I strongly suggest to all clients that the golden hour of dawn or dusk provides the best time for sessions but that said.....weather....weather is always a factor and I try to plan accordingly. With a range of portable lighting at my disposal, I am able to compensate within reason if conditions are not ideal. Like any small business, it is imperative that I have balance between personal and professional life and therefore will be limiting weekend sessions to 4 a month. Weekdays there is more flexibility and I am available Tuesdays through Fridays during select hours.

As for other services, I am delighted to announce that in 2018, my friend and extremely talented make up artist/stylist will be offering her services in conjunction with RSVP to provide a more luxurious and quality experience for sessions. Her experience in the field of make up and fashion is well known within the Greater Dayton region and her professionalism speaks for itself. Her services will be supplied according to availability and prices will be factored into specific sessions.

Q. You talk about supplying vintage fashions and accessories? What do you have?

A. Over the years, I have amassed a large collection of garments and accessories dating from the 1800s to 1980s. I have both mens and women's at my disposal and work hard with every client to provide a custom look for their sessions that suit their style and personality. This is a unique service not offered by anyone else in the Dayton area and with over 1000 items available, if you want to turn back time for any portrait session, I will help create a look that is perfect for you!

Q. Do you rent garments out or loan them out?

A. This was something that I had considered many times in the past few years and now I have concluded that the answer is no. This will not be a service I'll be offering in the foreseeable future. Many of the garments I have are extremely frail and one of a kind. Especially items that were not part of mass production. It is my responsibility to protect these items, especially the more unique ones and preserve them for the future generations to enjoy. 

Well, I think thats pretty much covered a lot of ground for today. As mentioned, I've a lot of time to make up for and lots to plan for in the future. Please continue to follow me on this journey in life - I can be found on Facebook or Instagram under Riley Street Vintage Photography and will be offering many fun updates, promotions and specials in the time to come. If you have any questions about anything, please do not hesitate to get in touch as I will be happy to answer any inquiries you may have.

Thanks for reading!

Sam - Riley Street Vintage Photography

Well, please bear with me as I find my feet here and try to get back into the swing of things. I last blogged a few years ago (shame on me for dropping off the task like that) and there has been so many things that have happened since that it would take me forever to catch up. So maybe I just start afresh here - start with the changes that have been made and are yet to come.

You see, I've been working on a game plan for my business. I feel like I've been working on this game plan for so long and while I've tried to stay true to my path, there have been some detours along the way. But I remain patient as I know that building a business isn't a race, it takes careful planning, strategy and longevity. I'm not in this to be the brightest star in the quickest amount of time - no business can fully succeed if operated that way. It takes time.....

So here I am. Ready to move forward with each year, each chapter and each plan. Carefully putting all the puzzles into place. And while I've quietly focused on what my goals are on the business side of things, I've also dedicated a lot of time in the personal arena too - with the biggest change being a move from our old house to a new house which as many know, was something important to me. Important to find a new home that fit the needs of my husband, our dogs and myself. To have room to breathe, to grow and to dedicate more time to creative pursuit. And with this move, it's opened up our lives in so many ways and is allowing me more opportunity for the business side of things.

2017 has been about settling in, finding our feet in our new home, expanding our social horizons. I've been rebuilding my portfolio, strengthening my goals and planning for the next stage in 2018 as well as keeping an eye on goals for 2019. Again, it's not been a race - its been a slow and steady process which I'm trying real hard to adhere to.

And with each month passing, I am reminded of the past and the things that have happened along the way, the people I've met and the bonds I've formed which help move me into the future. And I feel something akin to being blessed. Grateful more than anything and reminded of what and whom has helped shape me.

As this year zooms to the finish line, I look back at all the changes that have happened in the past few years. Some of it has not been great and there have been plenty of bumps in the road but for the most part, it has been filled with so much good and it has taught me that no matter what is to come, as long as I've my darling husband, dogs, family and friends at my side - I can achieve anything.

On that note, I sign off for now and hopefully the next blog will be a bit more enticing and have more purpose. Thanks for reading!!

Sam - Riley Street Vintage Photography

"I wear your grandmas clothes, I look incredible, I'm in this big arse coat, from that op shop down the road"

Sorry Macklemore - I had to take some creative license and borrow some lyrics and give them the Australian twist.

So I'm here to talk about op shops this week - a topic thats been zipping around in my noggin since last weeks blog. In case you were wondering what an op shop is, it's the abbreviated term for an "opportunity shop" which here in the USA would be called a thrift shop. Some also call them "oppies" back in the land Down Under. And I have a long history with op shops actually which goes a long way to explaining the job I have today.

But before I get into all that, please let me explain photos. It's been hell weather here for the past week with barely a lick of decent sunshine to brighten our days. Just when we thought the snow was departing for good, it snowed again.......and then started to melt. And then snow again. I'm not going to bitch about the weather today though, just explaining that there was not a great day for taking photos of clothing or anything exciting at all. I did snap some shots of roasted pumpkin seeds yesterday but just haven't had the druthers to do anything about it all. Hopefully next week! A good solid day of sunshine will rejuvenate me and get me back on track.

Above photos are of an angelic little lass, full of a life ahead, of innocence and no inkling of what the years ahead would bring. I'm not ashamed to say, I was CUTE!! The newborn shot was taken pretty much 42 years ago today in a difference country, different time zone in a small town called Seymour in Victoria. Thanks Mum and Dad for making me - I'm glad you didn't give up because the other two were defective. Ha! I love my elder sisters but I now and shall always remain, the sweet youngest and my halo still glows bright.....I'm saying all this because I know the elders sisters shan't read this and won't ever give me grief on here at least so I can get away with whatever I want! It's a party!

I don't feel 42 years old, I wasn't even too thrilled about the idea of turning another year older this year. I enjoyed 40, that was great. But 42 for some reason was not appealing to me until I read something about aging is a privilege that some people are denied. And that kicked me up the cooter and I figured I'd just accept it and move on. I type this so I have this reminder each year - maybe I need to find that quote and slap it on the fridge.

Anyway, back to the fun topic of op shops. My first memory of an op shop was as a very young child, going to town with my Mum and stopping in the local oppy shoppy which was enclosed in a small ramshackle building nearing the end of the Main Street. I cant give you a full visual but have faint memories of windows at the front, a lady inside who looked about 100 years old, a small room at the back with another window and loads of clothing and random things. I recall thinking that this was a fascinating place and wasn't aware until years later that for some, shopping in the op shop meant that your family was not going through life with a ton of riches. And as my childhood was often spent on the lower end of the income scale, this meant getting clothing and such from the op shop. 

Being too young to know what a despairing thing this was, I remained blissfully ignorant but I guess the elder sibs had some awareness and are to this day, not big fans of buying anything from an oppy. Maybe they are more open to it now but in our teens and such, being seen in an op shop had a tinge of shame attached.

Years flew by, my parents found their feet and we started to wear new clothing and bought new things but that little old op shop still held some intrigue for me - I recall stopping in there a few times when I was in my late teens just to look around and can almost picture my little self toddling around in the store, playing with toys and hiding under the racks of clothing. That little shop is now long gone, torn down many years ago I'd imagine and I cant even remember what was there last time I visited that part of the world but the memory of it sits in the grey matter and I know now that I must have had a junkers heart even back then.

Now the op shop was fun but let me tell you all about the "tip" - the glorious, stinky place that as a child was like some bizarre and post apocalyptic playground for us local kids. The tip was a few miles out of town and I should translate because the tip as it is known would be referred to here as "the dump" - yeah, we played at the dump. Such sanitary fun to be had off a dirt road, up on the hill. And the best part of all, Mum was the one to take us out there in search of treasure!!!! We may have whined about it at the time but honestly, it was all in good fun and believe it or not, there were treasures to be found. While I don't recall much of anything unearthed out there, I do remember Mum getting a great side cabinet that she took home and lovingly cleaned up and fixed up. Chip off the old block much? And another local lady was ferreting around out there and discovered an old hair drying case - you know the type? The ones that were usually in a powder blue vinyl case with a head cap and some strange contraption that plugged in and blew your hair dry under the cap. Anyway, the case was not the find, it was the diamond ring she found in it that was quite the discovery.

As us feral children got older, the novelty of visiting the tip wore off and I think my last trip there was with a friend when I was in mid teens and this I remember clear as day - I got home and Mum asked where I had been and I told her the tip to which she asked if I'd found anything interesting. I unwittingly and blithely replied - "nah, just the usual shit" and then the horror that must have crossed my face upon realizing I said shit in front of my mother, well that thankfully got me off with just a glance and she probably had a good laugh when I slunk off in shame.

I leave home at 18 and start my life - roaming around aimlessly doing various jobs in various places but the one thing remained, anywhere I went, I always somehow was drawn into op shops like a penny to a magnet. Often because I wasn't making my fortune, I'd buy clothing for myself or a little something for the place I was living in at the time. Most times I just liked to walk around and pass the time, looking at anything and everything.

More years pass and I'm in my final Australian destination of Frankston, a lovely coastal suburb on the fringe of the bigger burbs, the final stop before reaching the glorious coastal towns. Held down a good job there, had good friends and was getting along in life - and still I wandered into the op shops!!! Now like here, the op shops have the same purpose and all vary as much. Some are small, some are independent, some are large and connected to organizations like Red Cross or St Vinnies. Some were hidden away discreetly and some were smack dab in the malls. I went to them all - didn't matter to me, I did like the mall one since I worked at the mall and would duck in there during lunch.

While I was making a decent wage, like any young Australian, my social life consisted of going to the pubs and nightclubs at least 3 nights a week so that often left very little for personal items and it almost makes me a little sad to look back and think of how little I cared for myself. I was in a serious relationship at that stage and would think nothing of walking into a designer store to buy something for my boyfriend but for myself, I'd toddle off to the op shop in the hope to find myself a pair of jeans or a coat at a decent price. Even one event we went to, I got my formal dress (floral, peach color, chiffon, flowing and VERY 1970s) from a little op shop and I loved it - still regretting getting rid of that dress now because oddly it made me feel like a million bucks.

And while I know all that sounds a bit sad, I don't regret. When the ex and I spilt, I went and spoiled myself stupid - buying a bunch of new clothing, make up, jewelry and really told myself that it was okay to buy new once in a while. It was ok to look good.

Then I came here. And funny enough I was only chatting with a friend recently about the thrift stores back in Seattle that I visited often. My first memory was a little thrifty just a short walk from our dear house on the water. At that stage of life, I was still unable to work due to the immigration process and didn't have a penny to my name - all my savings had long gone and the MOTH was supporting us both and we were bottom of the barrel poor, pasta roni was a food staple in our house and we considered spending $50 on groceries a luxury. But we managed and did what we could, we were in love and thats all that mattered.

Now one day I started to venture out and look at the town we'd moved to and I stopped at this little thrifty and looked around and much to my amazement, I saw a life preserver - the type sold in gift decor stores and on it was painted the word "Sailaway" which was my husbands email address at the time when we met. Of course my heart flutters and I was so excited because it was $3.00 and his birthday was coming up!!! Eagerly I bounced over to the counter, hoping with all my heart that they would hold it for me for 15 minutes so I could run back to the house and raid the spare change jar that MOTH always had full. Because thats all I had - I had no money of my own and could only rely on that jar in case of diabolical need. And I needed that life preserving ring, I really did!!!

The lady at the counter - tall and somewhat intimidating, almost a carbon copy of Bea Arthur from The Golden Girls, I ask her with all the politeness I had in me if she could please hold that item for me while I zipped home for the cash.......and well, you can almost guess the rest right? She said no. I begged her. She still said no. I even pointed out that if she looked out the door, she would see the house I was going to so I could get money. Still no.

I was shattered but still hopeful so I ran back to the house, grabbed $3.00 and then ran back to the thrift store, the entire trip probably taking me 20 minutes at best and breathlessly I ran back into the store only to find that life preserver sold. Well at least thats what the mean old slapper at the counter told me with a smirk on her face when I inquired if maybe she had just put it back somewhere else? I don't think I've felt so much anger, shame and defeat at the same time. I don't know what I ended up getting Scott for his birthday that year but I remember how heartbroken I was to not get that darn life preserver. And maybe to this day I hold a grudge against that woman for not showing an ounce of compassion or kindness. I still shopped in that little place but much preferred the one further down the road where my shame wasn't hiding in the dusty corners. A few months later, I was finally allowed to work and found a good job and life moved on.

Fast forward quite a few years.....now in Ohio. Now the MOTH is not one for thrift stores, he will go into one if I beg but he'd really rather not. We have some good ones around here and I'll stop in when I can but it's only been the last few years that I've delved into them with gusto because I finally met two gals who love a good thrifty as much as I do!!! The darling and exceptional ninjas - Merlot Ninja and Ginger Ninja. Upon first meeting them, I had no idea I'd found the shopping sisters of my dreams!!!! You see, we each love to go thrifty but absolutely loathe talking to each other while shopping - kind of like talking a walk on a sunny day with a friend through a park - you chat, sure. But when it comes to thrifty, there is no talking in thrifty!!!! There is the odd squee of excitement, the odd grunt, the odd holler across a store if something of interest is found but the rest of the time we prefer to each shop in solitary peace, engrossed in the pursuit of treasure. We don't invade each others space, we share nicely if we find something that might interest the other and then when our shopping adventures end, we chat and giggle and catch up on everything unsaid whilst shopping.

It's perfect. I love it. I love those gals - they are my people. So this is my little tribute to the ninjas if they read this - I raise my tea bags to you both and thank the thrifty gods for bringing you into my life. May the odds be ever in our favor.

And that my poor blog reading friends, is a rather uninspiring read this week for you. Sorry! Warmer days will hopefully bring more excitement. You know now what an op shop is and if you ever go to Australia and are in the mindset to find some goodies, the best oppies are in the churches actually - many will have a side room from the main building that will house a bunch of donated stuff which they sell off to raise funds for the church and charity. Bless their hearts. All full of ladies and the odd bloke, many with hips of steel and hair of blue and all there for the cause of selling stuff at bargain prices and having an afternoon cuppa. Best op shops ever!!

So off I go now, into these final few hours of being 41. Might be time for a beverage. With alcohol! YEAH! And now I'm not so worried about getting older....you want to know why? Because I aspire someday to be one of those wrinkly old blue hairs, working in an oppy....and theres no shame in that. No shame at all!!!

Much love. Peace to all.

Sam. xxxx

This weeks blog is about a topic that is as equally thrilling as it is riveting - laundry! YEAH! I can almost imagine you all transfixed to the screen, eager to read on about the worlds most boring topic! My apologies, I was laying in bed last night and for some reason I couldn't get the theme of laundering out of my head. My brain cells haven't frozen solid nor gone walkabout, I promise. I just felt like talking about laundry and other random things because this blog has been dedicated lately to my whinging and I wanted to put forth some more informative topics.

So do grab a coffee, kick back and read on.....or not.

I think the topic of laundry for me stems from the fact that I collect antique and vintage clothing and I'm always thinking about how to get things clean. Plus I have the worlds ugliest laundry room, I really really do. Now some might think "why would the crazy woman want a nice laundry room?" but honestly, when you think about how many hours we dedicate to doing laundry, wouldn't it be nice to take on the task in a space that was functional, efficient and visually pleasing?

But before I go forth into the topic, let me go back to the start - to my first memories of laundry and share some tales of the bygone years because we've all got to start somewhere when it comes to chores and things that we learn as we grow up.

My earliest memories of laundry start with my darling Mum - someone who takes laundering VERY SERIOUSLY!! This woman was raised in the generation where perfection was expected of women when it comes to domestic chores, nothing was to be done half heartedly, it was all about showing off your domestic skills because it was looked upon favorably to be a little Suzie Homemaker. The better skills you had, the better chance of nabbing a suitable husband. My poor Mum - I'm cringing a little at the thought of that.

The house we grew up in, well it is rather old and I do believe it was originally the cottage of a blacksmith. I'm not sure how old it is now and I'll have to check and confirm data but I think it was built in the late 1800s, before plumbing and laundry rooms. What I do know is that it sure was a precious little place with the most heinous decor, old grog bottles under the kitchen floor and the laundry room was in a lean to shed out the back which housed a few litters of kittens before the washing machine was moved inside....into the bathroom.........which was in the kitchen! Yep, you read that correctly. The bathroom was in the kitchen which some will find odd but as a child, it was quite exciting. Now just to clarify, the actual toilet was not in there, that was out the back in it's own structure which in Australia is fondly known as "the dunny" or "thunder box" and yes, ours was a true blue, fair dinkum outside dunny. But more about that later.

My Mum is my hero for dealing with the appliances she had to use 35 years ago and I recall the washing machine as a single unit with two compartments, one side for the washing and then the other side for the rinsing. So you had to pop the washing in, wait for one cycle to get done and then move it all into the next side to rinse and spin. Then when that was done, into the basket to be hauled outside to the washing line to dry. I must ask Mum how long this process took and do admire her dedication to the task considering she had to launder clothing for herself, 3 daughters and a husband who did gold mining for a living.

Now before I move onto the next step, I just need to describe our bathroom in slight detail because it is a fond memory and created family lore which you have to admit, thats quite extraordinary for such a humble household space. The bathroom consisted of the washing machine, a sink with window above it, a bathtub. That is all. No shower. And the walls of the bathroom did not quite reach the ceiling since it was an afterthought addition, put in there at some stage when some poor soul got sick of washing themselves in a galvanized metal tub. So this created much shenanigans for us children who had to take a bath in turns of a morning and of course being the youngest - guess who got the last bath? Poor poor me. Because of course it was not done to re-run fresh water each time, we had to share the water and if the water was a bit cold, I was allowed to add a little hot water so I'd not freeze to death.

The water to the house was piped up from the river and if there happened to be a dry season with water restrictions or a broken pipe, then we'd just go wash in the river across the road. But while we had water in the house, we'd bathe each morning and one of the greatest highlights was the fact that since the walls didn't reach the ceiling, we could easily climb up on the chest freezer in the kitchen and tip cold water from a jug over the person who happened to be in the tub at the time. Needless to say, this yielded much spankings but it was SO worth it.

And family lore - well, that is a story that my sisters bicker about to this day - the great tale of the "mystery poo" - apparently I got into the tub one morning and there was a big brown floating log in there (which Mum claims it was too big for me to have produced) - now since Middle Sister was the last one in there, she got the blame and yet to this day disputes that she was at fault, that Eldest Sister had "dropped it off" and that she did not notice it whilst she was in there. Now how someone could not notice a big floating turd is beyond me but even now, 37 years later, the debate rages on. All I care about is that I was not the guilty party!!! My bathtub time aside from that was always a fun experience, playing with mermaid toys and sponges and rinsing my hair with a Strawberry Shortcake mug and I confess this, when I spied a Strawberry Shortcake mug a few years ago in a store, I just had to buy it for nostalgic reasons and use it now to rinse my mouth out after brushing teeth.

So thats the bathing thing taken care of - lets quickly run through the history of the dunny before we resume laundry chat.

Our dunny was pretty modest and humble - a tiny shack with wooden door that was a few meters away from the house towards the back of the property. In the Spring and Summer, it would be covered in a mass of honeysuckle which I consider now, natures deodorizer. For years it was not wired with electric so we had to grab a flashlight (aka torch) to get the job done at night. But when the day came that it finally got electric, well we felt like millionaires! Now Dad could sit in there and read the paper with a bit of good light which was not real helpful since he could be in there for hours! The trick we developed for this was to just hop the fence into the neighbors yard and use their outside dunny and we could only hope that it had toilet paper since it was a holiday home for a family who only came up a few times a year.

Memories of the dunny - Mum painting it and making it look real nice and then Elder Sister thought she'd be a smart arse and hand draw a visitors book on the wall. Accidentally walking in on my Uncle in the dunny which supplied my first view of "mens junk". Catching lizards with my sister outside the dunny and writing numbers on their backs so we could race them. And of course the spiders - ranging from the giant huntsmans to the small lethal buggers. That had to have been my least favorite part of the experience and explains my phobia of spiders to this day.

Last time I went back to the home town was in 1999 and I visited my childhood home, owned by one of the town locals who was kind enough to let me visit for a little bit and it was with great sadness that I saw she'd updated the house by undertaking major renovations - I don't blame her and it was well done but the crazy bathroom in the kitchen was gone and in place was a much more practical bathroom and latrine which meant the good old thunder box from my youth was only a memory. Funny how I was so eager to leave home at age 18 and live in places with indoor toilets and actual showers but now, I miss that weird place with it's unusual features. Ah well - those memories will always remain.

Well, back to the topic of laundry. Have you noticed the topic that I feared would be very boring got replaced with stories of toilets and bathrooms? That was just a distraction folks! Now it's time to get back to the nitty gritty. Which goes back to my Mum doing her second step of laundry which involved taking it to the washing line. We had an old Hills Hoist line which was the square shape on a pole that spun around and had a lever to lower it or make it go up. A very typical Australian line and one I miss dearly. Memories of this line and I'm sure many can relate, getting "hung" on the line by the feral elder sisters - I'd love to hear if anyone else ever got subjected to that kind of childhood torture! And of course the day I'd come home to find a bunch of headless chickens hanging on the line to drain - my Mum at some stage thought how lovely it would be to raise chickens and named them after members of the town that we all adored. We looked after these "chooks" and collected their eggs and fed them and talked to them....so when the day came that Mum decided they would be better off as food in our bellies, well it was a horrifying and sad day indeed and I do recall refusing to eat the meat, being a firm believer that chicken breast should only come from a plastic covered styrofoam tray from the supermarket.

Thats a visual I'll never forget - her spinning the chookies around on the line to drain their blood faster and yet I still oddly want a Hills Hoist laundry line. Go figure.

Moving on from the gruesome and back to the laundry - now my Mum has always been a stickler for doing things just so and one of her quirks is clothing pegs, she cant stand different color pegs and would have each garment hung with two matching colors - a blouse would have two green pegs, a pair of pants two blue pegs and so on. Which of course for us kids meant countless hours sneaking out there and switching them out just to torment her. She'd go out and find a garment with a blue peg on one side and a red peg on the other and she would just ROAR much to our amusement. Years later, I discovered she'd wised up and would purchase clothing pegs all the same color which makes life a bit easier and more logical. But she's still funny about how things are hung and whenever we go home, she will watch Scott and I hang clothing out and harp at us for it not being done "right". Which makes us laugh like lunatics and it pleases me that my husband gets to experience that part of her because it's something that makes my Mum who she is, a part of her that I love dearly.

She of the generation who ironed everything, taught me how to iron dish towels (tea towels) and yet never really taught me how to use a washing machine which made life a bit difficult when I left home at 18 years of age and had to ask someone how it was all done.

And now, many years later, I have my own quirks and habits and much to my husbands dismay, I have shown some of my mothers traits. Mine is how I fold laundry, it has to be done a certain way - folded just so and in a certain order to make my life more efficient. Since the iron and I don't catch up very often, I find that folding nearly and stacking neatly can prevent many wrinkles and thus sparing the iron from being kidnapped from it's sunbeam in the laundry room. So poor MOTH, even an offer to fold something gets shot down in flames and I've been known to refold something to my satisfaction if he gets the opportunity to grab some laundry out of my obsessive paws.

Many times I've been asked how to clean vintage and antique clothing since it's something I've been doing for a few years now - it's not something I was taught nor have I studied the craft of cleaning old textiles, it really just trial and error I guess and an instinct to know what select fabrics can withstand. Old white Edwardian cottons can take a good cleaning if they are sturdy since they were used to brutal cleaning methods and I know specialists might cringe at my methods but I found that oxi clean soakings were the best option for that type of material. Sprinkle an amount of oxi into a bucket and use however much you think a garment needs according to it's condition, run water into the bucket and make sure the oxo clean has dissolved properly and then soak the garment for a few hours, checking on occasion and making sure garment remains submerged. This is a good method for tablecloths - pretty much anything cotton. If the item is fairly sturdy and not too fragile, I'll then place it in a delicate garment bag and run through the washing machine on the delicate setting and then hang dry and let it have a very quick spin in the dryer for about 10 minutes on no heat fluff with a dryer sheet. This gets out the stank and keeps the garment from being too stiff. This method can also work with patterned and colored cottons but use the oxi sparingly as to not leech too much color from the item.

Bleach I use very sparingly as it can turn whites yellow - a tiny amount goes a long way if I think an item is not quite clean or bright enough. And it's very much not advised to use on polyester - same with the oxi clean as I learned the hard way that anything polyester will lose it's color if soaked in oxi. Live and learn I guess.

For velvets and silks and other luxury fabrics, I've found that using the Dryel home dry cleaning product is really helpful - this product can be found in the laundry aisle at the grocery store and while it is a little costly, it's cheaper than taking the items to the dry cleaners in the long term. It consists of a spray, a bag and some soaked sheets - you spray the garment all over and really squirt the heck out of stains and then let it sit for an hour or two to let the stains get soaked. Place garment in the bag and throw in one of the soaked sheets and let it go on your usual dryer setting as per instructions on the box. Hang immediately after taking out of dryer to let wrinkles drop and thats all. Some things like delicate silks I wouldn't trust too much with this method but heavy satins and such hold up fairly well - I even recently put a mohair coat through this process and was pleased with the end result. But if in doubt and you have a piece that you are keeping for personal use, a trip to the dry cleaners is worth the expense - I took a mens wool coat which was made in the early turn of the century to the dry cleaners and it only cost me about $5.00 to get it cleaned which I thought was more than reasonable since it was a specialty item. Just be sure to remove any adornments from vintage clothing such as buttons or pins, especially if they are ornate or extremely old before dry cleaning since the process can damage such things.

I hope thats been a fairly useful piece of information for you and that you can feel comfortable laundering antique or vintage textiles. If in doubt, don't. Thats the best advice I can give, especially if an item has great personal value.

Well, I think I've pretty much covered most of what was floating around in my head last night. Little nuggets of information to impart before I go off to enjoy the rest of the day........

Rumor has it that to remove blood from clothing, there is something in our DNA that can clean our own blood so apparently by hocking a loogie onto a blood stain that you've caused yourself can actually remove the stain. Not sure how accurate this is and have yet to test the theory but maybe I should, just to see if it's true. Stay tuned for that! And bear in mind that the idea of spitting on something is beyond gross to me - from my younger years, seeing people spit makes me more than nauseous. I blame the lads from my teenage years who thought it was great sport to glob out giant loads of spit - at that stage of life, I looked at the lads around me and thought my only option was to run as fast as I could and join a convent. Anyway, for you all though - I will drop a little spittle and see if I can remove a blood stain to find out if that part of science is accurate.

As for my uglier than sin laundry room, well I'm going to attempt to include a photo of it here. When we moved in, the walls were a gnarly shade of blotted pastel pink - sponged over the walls by the previous owner who was trying to cover the dark red sandy textured wall paper that the owners before them had put up. There were cabinets that ran the length of the room that were dark brown and made the room look crowded and heavy. Those were removed a few years ago, I slapped a little sea green paint on the walls and then just threw my hands up and said "screw it" and have been living with this horrible space since. But I sense a rebellion - a yearning to take this laundry room in our pig ranch and turn it into a beautiful space that will fill me with delight every time I put a load of laundry in. Because when I think about it, what a luxury for me to have such a room - compared to what my Mum had to deal with when I was a child. I'm sure she dreamt of having a nice laundry space and there is honestly no reason whatsoever for me to not have one. I know what I want it to look like, I can visually see the space in my vortex of an imagination so why not get this done? 

Well, time for me to wrap this up and attend to the chores of the day which actually do include laundry. And as the sun bathes my shitty little laundry room and the iron stares at me nervously, I shall dream of my laundry room as it hopefully will be and use the photos I took this morning as my guide.

Thanks for reading this rather lengthy blog (I'm assuming it will get read but if not, I'm okay with that) and I hope that in these last cold days of the winter, you find something to dream about whether it be renovations or improvements.

Much love to all.

Sam. xxxx

P.S. Forgot to load photo of my laundry room, the filthy little pig that it is so I'll put photo in comments on FB below this post.

What do you define as "home"? A place you grew up in? Where you live now? The house you currently reside in? There are so many definitions of home and it can mean something different to all of us. So I am dedicating this weeks blog to talking about home since it's something that is on my mind often.

I struggle with my personal definition of home since I am a nomad at heart and have never really settled in one place long enough aside from the town I grew up in and the here and now of Ohio. The years in between are a blur of houses, flats, apartments, towns and many housemates of which were varied, sometimes great and sometimes not so great.

Once upon a time I did a count of all the places I'd lived in but as the years pass, the memories get a little blurry although that could be credited to the mass quantities of alcoholic beverage I consumed between the legal age of 18 and my late 20s. Ah good times!!!! I often regret many of the choices I made as far as living quarters go (sharing a house with an English gal, a Turkish guy and a ton of roaming backpackers was not my finest hour) but there were also some gems (my last home in Australia - a house on the beach and two great housemates made for fond memories).

Arriving in the USA, my first "home" was a studio apartment in which we moved out of the day we were married (I literally was unpacking boxes in my wedding dress) and we settled into a little ground floor one bedroom apartment not far out of Seattle. This was fine enough except for the soul sucking cost of rent and the fact we had people sauntering past our door and windows at all hours which made it feel like we were in a fishbowl. After a decent amount of time, we decided to look for cheaper accommodations and something a bit more suitable for our needs which led us to the wonderful town of Port Orchard - about an hour out of Seattle which wasn't the smartest choice as far as commutes go but it was much cheaper rent and gave us a home that was so unique that we always remember it with a lot of fondness.

Our little lodging was a small two story cottage built on pilings over the water and it looked across the bay to the Bremerton Shipyard - the rent was cheap and while the house was not in the best condition, it was solid and had the most spectacular views and best of all, the town of Port Orchard was just a 15 minute walk down the road. We had a lovely deck that we could sit on and watch the tide roll in and out - two tiny bedrooms, a oddly large laundry room and the smallest dining room that could only seat two but had three large picture windows that made sitting in there a surreal and magical time. The bathroom faced the main road and had a window which was always a little nerve racking when people strolled by and we had to walk our darling dog Jack numerous times every day but still, it was such a happy place and my memories there are all the best. Listening to the water roll under the house at night, the otters snacking away which provided an interesting sound track, Jack gazing at the salmon leaping along the waters edge during salmon season and the sea lions bobbing away in the water. Watching the air craft carriers heading off in the time following 9/11 - I'd be in the living room and would sense something - a large looming presence passing by and I'd glance out the window and see those big grey floaters moving across the bay. The honks of cars and cheers of people lining the waterfront as they returned. I fell in love with America by that stage - the sense of patriotism and unity made me feel secure.

It was a pretty unique time, a unique place and I miss it dearly. And folks, no matter what they say, the weather isn't always crappy in Seattle or Washington State - I can attest to that and even if the weather was mildly shit, it was so beautiful there, it didn't really matter.

But still, we struggled along and the dreams that all newly weds have of owning a home just never felt achievable. So when the offer of a job in Ohio came and the chance to be near my in laws, well it seemed like the best option for us. Cost of living was cheaper and we could enjoy the change of seasons (yep, you can start laughing now).

I've no regrets - it's been such a pleasure to have family here (I have great in laws!), we could finally buy our first house (spent ten years putting lipstick on this pig), we had great care for our beloved Jack and have made some incredible friends and memories. We put down roots and finally got to the point where we are no longer struggling. My husband and dogs are my world and being with them is all I need.

But is it home?

For two people who have always been infused with a sense of adventure and grew up moving around a considerable amount, it feels a little weird to be so firmly planted in one place - especially a place that we have never felt 100% comfortable in. And I ask myself often "Where is home?". Is it where I grew up - Jamieson? Thats the home of my past and while it is imprinted on me as much as a tattoo would be, I couldn't imagine going back there now and feeling like it's home. Too many years have gone by. I hope to get back there when I turn 50 and it will be such a wonderful experience to show my husband the place where I spent much of my youth but sadly, it may only remain home of my heart.

Is it Frankston, the last place I lived before moving to the USA? I don't think so because while I have memories of there and loved my home with the ocean view, too much has changed there and it too just remains a pleasant part of my life that I cant return to. I'm glad to have lived there - I experienced so many highs and lows at that stage in life but even on visits back there since I left, it no longer feels like home - just an interesting place that I lived in once upon a time.

Is home where my parents are? Well, they moved around some after I left the bosom of the childhood home and are now settled in Queensland and while my heart is always with them and I want to be with them so much, Queensland feels like a strange alien planet to me - fun to visit but it does not feel like home in the slightest. While the idea of a tropical climate does appeal, the snakes and other nasty critters are less than desirable. To quote my beautiful niece "I'd have to wear stilts when I visit" - I'm glad my parents are there and it's just a joy to visit and see this unusual part of their life but the only thing that makes me feel at home there is watching my Mum do her routine and laundering - the comforting knowledge that she is so careful about how she hangs out the washing and has been doing it the same way since I was a child, seeing Dad stretched out on the couch "reading" a novel (in other words, enjoying a nap) and listening to Dad stir a spoon in a glass of heartburn powder or coffee - the noise of which is rather unforgettable.

Is Australia home? Well, yes - in my heart it is home. Part of my home at least and I feel like I've a foot in two worlds - kind of like an International hokey pokey. You put the left foot in....Australia....you put the left foot out.....and you shake it all about. Right foot into the USA and so on. And now you have the hokey pokey stuck in your heads folks. You are welcome. LOL.

And then there is here. Ohio. Land of the cold because despite my whining over the last few weeks about the weather, it got WORSE!! And why am I whinging about it really? It's winter, it happens every year and it shouldn't be such a shock. But it is and our survival depends on complaining about the cold to friends, strangers, the staff at the grocery store. It's how we get by and since the weather limits our activities, it gives us something to talk about.

I've spent over 10 years now in Ohio, feathering my nest, creating memories, making friends, building a life yet I still yearn for something else. The MOTH and I often have talked of moving on and trying to find a place that suits us better and I sure wouldn't sneeze at the thought of being in a warmer climate but alas just when my hopes border on becoming a reality, dreams change and wither like an Ohio garden in the dead cold of winter. And I start to lose a little hope. I get older and my dreams start to freeze.

You see, we sometimes feel a bit like outsiders here - not lived here long enough to be locals but too long to be transient. And of course there is the no child business - sometimes not having a child is the equivalent of social leprosy. Now we made that choice and we are more than fine with it but still, to feel excluded from certain aspects of the social game because we don't have 2.5 children is disheartening to say the least. And thats not something just corralled to Ohio, thats something we will face no matter where we go. 

We are not dreadfully conservative, nor are we extremely liberal - we have our own views, our own lifestyle and sometimes that doesn't mesh well with the people around us. So we walk tentatively through life, careful not to tread heavily in some aspects as to not offend. And more often than not, I feel we are covering ourselves and not being comfortable or allowed to just be us. That thought brings me no happiness and I wonder at what point in life, that we will feel at home.

Well, what a cheerful blog this week?!!! So maybe now it's time to move on to something a little more superficial and lighthearted because honestly, I'm a little tired of the inner self that dips to the dark side. Bad inner self - cheer up buttercup and be a glow worm!

So lets talk about that Pinterest thing some.....yes, I've attached myself to Pinterest like a Grey's Anatomy addict. And while I no longer feel comfortable dreaming of moves and changes, I can dream about arts and crafts right? Like making stuff from plumbing pipe - yeah! From toilet roll holders to closet storage, that plumbing pipe can pretty much do it all. Even wine bottle holders which would be nifty if I still drank like a fish. 

As long as I reside in this house and call it home, I question so much about what I do to it. The pig was built in the early 1960s, it's a small ranch style home and if I could go back in time and shoot the architect, I would. But it's still our little pig and I must tend to it the best I can and I hope that this year will bring the time and means to fix it up proper. Which may or may not include a plumbing pipe toilet roll holder.

I've spent many years following trends and styles or whatever suits my fancy - I've done the shabby chic thing much to the dismay of the MOTH. The french country thing (red and white cafe curtains and all things Parisian), the early 2000s eggplant and sage green color combo (Oh god, I even had a purple toilet seat cover!!!) and now I'm finally settling into what I really like which is things old, things with character and an odd mix of industrial style with a dash of modern thrown in for good measure. And if I had the freedom to really go nuts, I could only define the style I hope to achieve as "Modern Farmhouse" which is not easy to attain in a 1960s ranch house pig. I've always regarded the mid century modern style very highly and would love to go that route but my love of shabby crap is too strong to resist. I yearn for a house with vaulted ceilings, a tri level perhaps but then I also long for a place with a bit of character, kind of like an Australian style farmhouse with a bull nose verandah and a entry hall way with tongue and groove boards lining the walls.

Then just to confuse myself even more, I think about something very modern and minimalistic with a loft appeal. Thats when my head explodes and I feel myself on the verge of a midlife crisis. I just know I don't want cookie cutter - a house built in one of those sprawling estates with no fences, no suitable outdoor entertaining space - pretty much anything built from 1980s to now. It's fine for some, just not for me. I look at that type of home - big houses with little personality, with a ton of tiny chopped up rooms and an ugly back deck tacked onto the rear of the house that looks like a sad afterthought. No thanks!

So what do I do? Do I dare dream about finding something that suits the aesthetic of the MOTH and myself? Do I look at the pig and say "that'll do pig, that'll do" and do my best to spruce the pig up and make it our own personal prize winner? I'm leaning more towards the latter since that alluring temptress known as Pinterest encourages me that it's possible to slap glitter on the pig and make it look good. But I shall confess in the here and now, despite placing myself into reality, I'll always hold onto a tiny seed of hope that the place we want as our home will happen someday and that no matter where it is, whether it be Ohio or elsewhere, it will truly feel like home both visually and emotionally.

Be sure to let me know your thoughts on your home and how you make your place in the world whether it be in decor or socially. Are you a feather in the breeze or the roots of a tree, firmly planted?

And on that note, I'm off to clean a pig. Until next week my friends and please, stay warm! xxxx

P.S. It could take me much extra time to tell you about that cake in the photo at top but to speed things along, it was a recipe I found on Pinterest. Cream cheese filled banana bread - a little messy to make but so worth it. I added my own twist by throwing in a bit of nutmeg into the ingredients to add more shazam and then made a quick glaze by slopping some icing powder together with a bit of cinnamon, golden syrup and water. Honey would be great too instead of golden syrup. Anyway, google the recipe but if you don't feel like doing that, feel free to send me a message and I'd be delighted to send you the recipe in return.

It must be love, love love! Yes folks - that time of the year is here which is either dreaded or anticipated by many. Valentines Day!!!! A day for love, hand holding, chocolate, flowers....or if you've been married 13 years, maybe a hug and a sleep in and a trip to Steak and Shake. Ha, anyway, whichever way you choose to honor the day of love, I hope it is a wonderful one.

I'm glad I'm typing out this blog today - the sun has been out a little and it's not been a bad day at all considering it's Friday the 13th. Had I typed this yesterday, I'd have been putting up photos of daggers, black souls and a gloomy pit of muck since I was in the mother of all foul moods! The day just wasn't a great one and I struggled all day to dig myself out of the nasty funk I was in.

Yet on Friday the 13th, I'm positively Susie Sunshine? Go figure that one out!!!!

It's been a little hectic since last weeks bloggy with social events, work related things to do and other odds and ends and I've felt a little like a hamster on a spinning wheel. So many thoughts swirling through the head that I want to type down on here but where to start? I admit I have felt a little guilty at times for putting down my thoughts on here, especially when they are a little on the dark side...but since I'm usually the type of person who skims across the shiny glass of life, it's nice to have a place where I can dig a little deeper and open up the box of truth that dwells within. Life isn't all glitter and unicorns and rainbows although it sure would be grand if it was.

I received sad news on Friday night. And while it's not really a story that I feel should be told just now, my heart was a little heavier for getting the news that someone from my early Australian years had passed away. The mother of a dear childhood friend is now a shining star in the sky and I mourn for the family and I mourn for the wonderful lady who was and still is a strong presence in my memories. Rest in peace Mrs G - you will always be remembered by me with love.

"Those we love remain with us for love itself lives on, and cherished memories never fade because a loved one is gone.

Those we love can never be more than a thought apart, for as long as there is memory, they'll live on in the heart"

 - Author Unknown -

So the weekend was a busy one down at the store as we dropped some new items in there, did a tidy up and caught up with a load of people. Husband was very excited as we had ordered a custom made desk for our office - hand crafted by a wonderful vendor at Antiques Village. It's a beautiful piece made out of reclaimed wood and materials, a place for the MOTH to sit and write, check emails and hopefully be inspired. This "new" piece of course meant rearranging the office space and making room as well as getting an appropriate chair that would suit the style of the desk. So much of the weekend revolved around all that fun. Then a meeting with some fellow aviators to discuss a vintage aviation event that is being put together by my Father in Law and those of us who are willing to pitch in. It's going to be a fun event in the later end of Summer and I'll be sure to add more information here as time goes on because it's going to be open to the public and will offer all sorts of wonderful things for families to do.

Ah, I feel a little forgetful but now I remember one of the important moments this week.....by golly how could I forget? Tuesday was quite an important day as it was time for me to renew my green card!!! As it was due to expire in a few short months, it was of utmost importance to get this process done so I could sign up for ten more years legally. I admit, it was such a treat to have the MOTH to take the day off to be with me so we could trundle down to the INS to get this task done. He's not one to play hooky from work at all, nor take a day off unless it was essential and I guess he feels that keeping me around is essential because he scheduled the day off and despite the gravity of the errand, we knew we could sneak in some fun times too on that day - which involved a trip to Jungle Jim's to get some tasty treats from home.

Now for those whom wonder about my status in this country, I can assure you that I am legally entitled to be here. I pay taxes and do all the things that most citizens of this country can do. Except vote or do jury duty. And I will say now, I get a little uncomfortable when people ask me why I've not applied to become an American citizen - that is something I cannot answer properly nor should I feel the need to do so. I do love this country and have a great appreciation for all that I have here, I do not take being here lightly and have a deep gratitude for all the opportunities I've had. I came here just before 9/11 and have seen many changes in the USA - I've seen the good and I've seen the bad. It just remains my choice at this point in time to not give up my status as an Australian, I'll always be an Aussie in my heart regardless of what a piece of paper says so I don't feel there is a need at this point in life to change my status. Maybe one day that will change but for now....well.....oi oi oi!

Anyway, at Jungle Jim's, I stocked up on a ton of delicious treats and got home and loaded up the pantry and then sat there and thought "Well, bugger, thats a lot of food for just two people!" which then lead me to think about the Australian lifestyle from my childhood and traditions that are still to this day a vital part of many Australians hearts - something that I guess stems from the English past that many have. The tradition of morning/afternoon tea or dropping into someones house for a "cuppa". And I thought about how here in this day and age, people don't seem to be very comfortable with the concept of it all - it's never been something I've seen much of in the near 14 years I've lived here. People go out for lunch, sure...or they meet at a place for coffee and a danish but it's rare to see people visit each others homes on a week day just for that quick cup of tea and a snack. 

And that made me a little sad. It's a practice I'd love to see revived but there are a few little issues at my end to poke holes in the concept. 

A. I don't drink tea.

B. I don't drink coffee.

C. I don't have children.

Now A and B are easy fixes - I can make a mean dirty mocha which is the frou frou version of coffee. Just a bottled Starbucks frappe laced with Baileys and bingo, job done. Or failing that, a mimosa and I don't know too many people who will turn up their noses at a mimosa, no matter what the time of the day it is.

But C - well now thats tricky. As a young lass, I recall many hours of going to peoples houses with my Mum so she could "pop in for a cuppa". Sometimes these people were elderly and I was content to play or read, sometimes these people had children that I knew so we would just run amok and play while our mothers would sit there and chatter over a cuppa and a biscuit (aka cookie). And sometimes people would come to our house for a cuppa. Never long visits, just a drop by of adults to each others homes to say hello and enjoy a beverage and snack. It's just the way things were done and even going back home for visits now, we still see the concept of stopping for an afternoon cuppa quite often.

As many around me all have children and have such busy lives, I sometimes feel like a chipped tea cup, left on the shelf. And a huge difference between now and the years of my childhood is that back then, more women were stay at home Mums. So sadly, a tradition that I'd love see come to life over here is something I don't feel would be achievable. But that said - if you happen to be in the area on any given Friday and it's the afternoon, do feel free to stop by because I plan to bake something each Friday morning and if people turn up in the afternoon, thats awesome. If not, the MOTH will have something yummy for the weekend to eat.

So on the topic of baking and treats - I made some little love heart shaped snacks today in honor of Valentines Day tomorrow. I've just recently discovered the endless joys of Pinterest - GASP - I know right? You'd think I'd have been on there long before now. And yes, while I've had an account for a few years, I've never actively used it since I was wary of being too influenced by others ideas as well as soaking up way too much time looking when I could be doing something productive.

Well, it's winter. It's cold. What else is a girl supposed to do? So I get on Pinterest, make some boards, search for things. And my head is about to EXPLODE!!!! I love it!!! Recipes! Crafts! Inspiration! I want to build an entire house filled with home made industrial furnishings. I read how to create polished concrete floors - I WANNA DO THAT!!! O.M.G. - my life will never be the same.

Where was I? SQUIRREL!!! Yes, I'm easily distracted. So I found a nice and easy recipe for those little jam bites. 

1 pack of rolled pie pastry.

Jam of your choosing (I used strawberry and passionfruit)

A little milk to brush over the hearts

A little sugar to sprinkle over the top.

*Heat oven to 370.

Cut out hearts with a cookie cutter. Place a little blob of jam in the middle of a heart and put another heart on top. Seal with a fork pressed around the edges. Brush milk on tops and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Remove and cool on rack for as long as desired. Eat.

How easy peasy is that? 

Reminds me a bit of these turnovers my Mum used to make when I was young - similar concept but on a larger scale where these things were about the size of a half sandwich and filled with loads and loads of jam. And I have to say, the idea of them then and now makes my tummy turn and not in a good way. Nice concept but so sickly sweet - barf. Thank goodness Mum never taught me how to make those and only got me skilled in the fine art of schnitzel. Which is what I plan on making for dinner tonight so best I head off for now and get a few quick chores done before prepping dinner.

While I'm sure I've got more rambling thoughts running through my head and other things I'd like to say, I shall keep these reserved for next week.

Take care all and have a wonderful day tomorrow - snuggle up to a sweetheart and celebrate a day of love.

Sam I Am. xxxx

A late start to the blog this week and to be honest, I was struggling to summon the motivation to get it done since there was nothing in particular that I felt like chatting about. But I'd have been so mad at myself for missing a week so here I am. A sunny day, a cold day, snow on the ground, lack of sleep, upset tummy and a cold beagle refusing to leave my lap which makes for a difficult time in typing.

I've got the music playing loud to keep myself on track....and awake. Today I'm rocking out to "The Main Event" with John Farnham, Anthony Warlow and Olivia Newton John. For those unfamiliar with this one, it was a concert featuring these amazing Aussie icons back in the late 90s and it covers some of their classics with an orchestra. Stunning music and so beautifully done with the vocals and music - I think it's on iTunes so if you get the time, check it out!! It's a little old fashioned sure but it really is wonderful if you are in a mellow mood and need something to uplift your spirits.

Speaking of uplifting, I'm amazed I can type now - Bernie Beagle Bum loves music and he is as happy as a clam nestled in my arms while I sit at the computer and type. His bum is on my right leg and the upper half is draped over my left arm close to my wrist. I'm so uncomfortable but wish it was possible to get a photo of this because its honestly a miracle I'm still able to type. It's nearly 5pm which is doggie dinner time so this might provide me the chance to remove this 24lb weight from my lap. Back in a flash!

Okay, fur kids are fed and I've hopped back on here with my chair shoved as close to the desk as possible so Bernie cant hop up again. I love my little man but sometimes need to have a dog free moment!!!

Like many others, the winter is taking such a toll on me and I am about to shoot that damn groundhog for suggesting we have 6 more weeks of this ahead. My head is full of ideas but the body is slowly getting through the days without much excitement. This is the first winter that I've suffered from bad skin issues on my face - just dry and flaky skin / red patches but it makes me feel gnarly. Since I try to use only cruelty free products, it's been a task to find something to combat these winter afflictions and sadly I've had to resort to vaseline which is so not on the approved cruelty free list. Makes me feel guilty but its the only thing that seems to get my skin halfway normal.

And for the record, Bernie is back on my lap. He is so funny, he just LOVES listening to music, loves it when I sing to him and when we dance around. It was how we first bonded after he joined our family - I struggled to adjust to the addition to another dog in the house, especially when Abby and I had settled into such a routine. So Bernie and I were at odds in the beginning and finally one day in my frustration, I just took a breath and let it go - I danced around the office to Katy Perry and Bernie skipped around me in delight and we just finally clicked. I learned to stop what I was doing and just enjoy the moment with our little farter and we've been much happier for it.

So I guess I've wandered totally off topic since the photo above has got nothing to do with dogs, music or shitty weather. Time for me to explain the photo....

Earlier this week I got a call from my Mum whom I guess has been feeling a little nostalgic of late. As the years whizz by, it gets so much harder to be in a different country from my darling Mumma and I wish there was some teleportation machine to get me back home in the blink of an eyelash. A long arse flight home every few years really just isn't that awesome and its never enough time to spend with my parents and friends. And since Mum has been feeling nostalgic, she's been feeding me nuggets of information that were either long forgotten or unknown until now. Example, she says the other night "Do you remember Cassie?" and I was baffled as to who she was talking about. No wonder I don't remember Cassie - firstly, I was about 3 when Cassie came into my life and secondly, Cassie was an imaginary friend who only stuck around for a few years!!!! So Mum tells all this to me with great gusto and regrettably I had the phone on speaker which meant the MOTH heard all of this and just about wet himself laughing. I admit, I was getting a good laugh out of it too - no wonder I had an imaginary friend considering my only other option was my feral sisters!!!!

Then she discovered that someone on her side of the family tree has written a book which will be published soon that tracks some of our ancestors which was a very exciting discovery since I know so little about that side. The paternal side of the family is well documented back to the late 1700s but the maternal side has been a bit vague and sadly all the people who could give us information are long gone - but someone out there in the extended brach has some knowledge at least and I'll finally be able to get to know a little more about some of the Turner side.

The gentleman in the photo is Archibald Campbell Turner - after a quick Google search, I was able to find this photo and some information after Mum had told me her father was named after a relative who served in WW1 - given the dates, location and information provided, it would stand to reason that he was probably my Poppas uncle. Not going to lie, delving into this information is rather emotional and makes me wonder more about that side of the clan - I struggle with tears when looking at this mans photo and reading the only information about his short life that anyone will ever know and I feel it's important to take that information and make sure that others in the family know of him long after I'm gone.

Archibald was one of three children, possibly the eldest? Parents were James and Martha Turner.  And one of his two siblings was my Pop's father I think. He was a Private in the 51st Australian Infantry Battalion. Born and raised in South Australia, he went on to work as a laborer in his later years in Perth, Western Australia which is where he enlisted in 1914. He embarked on 6th June, 1915 from Fremantle on the HMAT Geelong AT and records show that he served in Egypt, Gallipoli, Belgium and then France which is where he died of meningitis at age 30. So sad when you stop to think about it - so many men like him, dying in a foreign country so far away from family and friends. And yet this still is happening even now in a different era, in different countries to so many people.

My heart aches for this man, for his family who suffered greatly at the loss of this beloved son and brother. And now I know of him, I'll always remember him.

Anyway, time to draw this weeks blog to a rather somber close. While I'm excited to find out more about my maternal branch of the family tree, I will always have a tinge of sadness for the ancestors on that side and for the heartache they endured - as the doors open to more information, I wonder what I will find out and whether it will be good, bad, sad. And maybe it will encourage me to look further into it all and see what else I can discover on my own.

And on this coming ANZAC Day and every one after, I'll be sure to light a candle and wear my pins in honor of this ancestor, Archibald Campbell Turner - Lest We Forget.

"Last night I had the strangest dream I've ever known before
I dreamed that all the world agreed to put an end to war
I dreamed I saw a mighty room, the room was filled with men
And the papers they were signing said they'd never fight again

And when the papers were all signed, and a million copies made
They all shook hands and bowed their heads and grateful prayers were prayed
And the people in the streets below were dancing round and round
While swords and guns and uniforms lay scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream I've ever known before
I dreamed that all the world agreed to put an end to war"

- Johnny Cash (originally by Ed McCurdy)

Greetings to one and all. Hope everyone is making it through this second cold snap and not too discouraged by that white slop outside.

I shan't lie - this weather brings me down into a black pit of despair and I'll accept any advice or suggestions to beat the cold weather blues. How do you keep your spirits up when you feel chilled to the bone? Get in touch, message me, impart wisdom because I sure could use it. But don't mind me right now, I'm just tired and a little glum.......

"I wish I was a glow worm, a glow worm's never glum. How can you be gloomy when light shines out your bum?"

I think thats how that little saying goes but without fail, it lifts me up a bit.

Anyway, moving on.

So much happening of late with Riley Street Vintage. Got round #1 done of the booth revamp with the addition of the mens vintage clothing section, all new merchandise in women's clothing and accessories and much more heading that way this weekend - more accessories and a huge load of home decor.

Then there are the events and exciting goodies happening - ranging from monthly giveaways to competitions to fashion shows. All the information regarding all this goodness is at the end of this weeks blog but do check back on our Facebook page for current updates. Add to all that a bunch of aviation activities that the MOTH and I will be involved in, it will be a rather busy year for us but exciting none the less.

Anyway, moving on to the story of Annette Kellermann because I did promise dear friends that I would actually write about something vintage did I not? The point of this blog is not for me to just chatter away about nothing in particular, that I would put forth some informative blogs. So here we go, the small nugget of knowledge I have about the genuine Million Dollar Mermaid - Annette Kellermann.

One of my very first Etsy purchases many moons ago was a 1920s wool swimsuit - I think I'd mentioned this in a previous blog and if I have already done so, please forgive my repetitiveness - getting senile. Ha! I'd long wanted one of these swimsuits for a photo shoot and found one for the shocking price of $13.00 - thats not a typing error my friends, I paid peanuts for this swimsuit and am rather proud of that fact. It arrived, I cooed and smiled despite it's flaws of age. Some moth nibbles and wear and tear but what else would one expect from a garment thats nearly 100 years old?

I noticed the label (as shown in photo above) and was slightly curious so I googled my guts out and was just tickled pink with what I discovered - which then yielded a call to my beautiful Grandma to get her knowledge and information. There is so much about this woman out there but I'll try to keep it to the minimum.

Annette Kellerman (sometimes shows up as Annette Kellermann) - born in Australia in 1886. After a rough start with ailments in her legs as a child, she then went on to become a top female athlete in the field of swimming - something that started as therapy to help strengthen her legs and by the time she was in her teens, she was all but recovered from her disability.

She was the first woman to attempt to cross the English Channel but alas her attempt was not a success - that record was achieved by Baroness Walburga von Isacescu, an Austrian. That did not discourage Annette though and she later attempted the crossing again with success. She often found though that the garments designed for female swimmers back in that era were very cumbersome and designed a swimsuit that would allow her more freedom and ease of swimming - a sleek full length piece with no fuss or adornment and that would fit the body in the way the wetsuits of today do. This was later adapted to the style of the swimsuit as shown in the photo above and it is commonly known that she was arrested on a Boston beach in 1907 for indecent exposure!! One of her quotes which I adore is "I cant swim wearing more stuff than you hang on a clothes line". Yep, good old Annette was quite feisty and outspoken for her time and having read her biography, it was very interesting to note that while she had a side of her that was admirable, she also had an arrogance to her that was slightly off-putting.

*A quick side note before I proceed - some ask why swimsuits of that era were made of wool. The best response I can give you is that the style of materials back then were not as vast as today, there certainly was no such thing as lycra. Cotton was too easy to weigh down when wet whereas wool repelled water much better and therefore was a more practical choice for swimming.*

Still, regardless of her persona, she is to be strongly admired for all she achieved in the progress for women - an advocate for women's physical health, a pioneer in the vaudeville and movie industry, she was fearless in a time when women were not to be seen as so bold. Her body measurements were considered the ideal for women at the time and she was the first major actress to do a nude scene. Her life story was later portrayed in the movie "Million Dollar Mermaid" starring Esther Williams and she was a consultant on the film although it was rumored that she didn't feel that Esther was suitable for the part and didn't really like the idea of anyone trying to portray her.

In all, she was quite a remarkable woman - someone who swam oceans, pools and rivers as well as crossing them to live in other countries and become part of the culture wherever she was. She is recognized in California, Florida and her birth country of Australia - after her death, her ashes were scattered across the Great Barrier Reef. Her star had faded before her death and her story faded into legend but there are many who remember her and hopefully her life and her accomplishments will always be told in years to come.

So thats really a quick summary of someone whom I should have known about as a child of Australia but it took coming to Annette's adopted country myself to find out about her and to learn about this amazing woman. And to own a piece of history with her name attached to it is a huge privilege to me, something I do not take lightly. For all her successes and failures, she never gave up - always believed in herself and remained as sure of herself in times of trouble. She'd have not whined about the cold weather or being tired, she'd have dived right into whatever she was doing and told everyone else to suck it up. Thanks Annette - if you are up in the heavens or below the sea, you've helped me give myself a mental kick in the arse and I'll remember that anytime I whine like a bitch.

Well dear blog readers (hi Val! hi Dan!) - LOL - I'll wrap this up with one more quote from an Aussie legend (not me you silly buggers, I mean Annette!). Stay well, stay warm and stay strong. See you back here sometime next week - if you have any suggestions about what you'd like to see, read or learn about - just shoot me a message. All input and thoughts are greatly welcomed.

Love Sam.

"My early physical misfortune has turned out to be the greatest blessing that could have come to me. Without it I should have missed the grim struggle upward and the reward that waited at the end of it all" - Annette Kellerman circa 1918.

**** WHO LIKES PRIZES?? ****

Lots of fun things happening this year for Riley Street Vintage, including giveaways, events and competitions. Read below for all the info.

1. Monthly Giveaway - each month I'll be doing a giveaway, no rhyme or reason - no rules. A random name will be selected each month as a winner and they will receive a prize in the mail. So easy - just keep checking back to see if your name pops up at the end of each month.

2. Christmas Competition - purchased something from my booth at Antiques Village? Post a photo of your purchase on this page and your name will be written down on a piece of paper and placed in a vintage jar. The drawing for this competition will be done in mid December this year and the winner will receive a $100 gift certificate to Antiques Village. The more times you post different photos, the more times your name will be placed into the entry jar. Easy peasy.

3. Fashion Shows - there are some ideas for fashion shows in the Spring and Fall that a group of us are working on. We are looking for willing participants to model in these events so if you think you can skip down a runway and have a good time, please drop me a message.

4. Photo Shoots - looking for willing models to showcase some of the various fashions that I have. These shoots will be done at an airfield in Moraine during warmer months on select weekends and we will offer refreshments, snacks and depending on weather, a free ride in a vintage aircraft. If this is something you may be interested in, just shoot me a note via private message. Looking for people with a versatile look and style who can take direction and are lighthearted.

 

Oh whaaaaaaat? Two blog posts in one day? Say it can't be so? I had some thoughts floating around in my head after publishing the previous post and figured that I'd best do another one before I forgot what those thoughts were - that kind of thing happens, especially when you reach a "vintage" age.

So this blog post is all about me. How egotistical is that? But while I sit here and type away, I think to myself that maybe, just maybe someday, someone will read these blogs and think "Who is this crazy woman?" so I felt that a proper introduction would either be something welcomed by blog visitors or scare the daylights out of all.

Mind you, I never anticipate anyone stopping by here to read my ramblings so I often wonder whether I can push the limits and drop the F word that rhymes with truck but then I second guess myself there and picture my dearly departed Nanna, shaking her head sadly and wondering how her little Sunbeam grew up to have such a potty mouth.

Anyway, hi everyone (the one or two people who may read this) - how goes it?

I'm Sam - Sam I Am. Born Samantha (a nice ladylike name that I'm sure dear Nanna approved of) but most people just call me Sam. I'm the poor soul in the photo above, wedged between two strange girls with horrific hairstyles and needless to say, judging from the fancy frocks and pantyhose, it was the 80s. Those two strange girls are my elder sisters, both who put me to shame when it comes to being uncouth. But I got the bigger boobs in the long run out of the three of us so I win. I recall this special occasion as being the day my Uncle got married and remember the experience well (lots of great seafood, no alcohol).

Born and raised in Australia - I had a fairly happy childhood, growing up in a very small country town in Victoria - population fluctuated depending on tourism and the amount of souls brave enough to live in a town of roughly 100 people, give or take. Yes, the town was THAT small. But it had it's good moments, we knew nearly everyone so it really did feel like we were being raised by a village. We felt safe, we felt loved and we had an abundance of rivers, mountains and paddocks to explore. Millions of memories run through my mind as I type this but I shan't dwell too much on those as this blog could end up becoming a book and I am certainly no author.

I now reside in the USA, met my husband in Seattle of all places when I visited here about 15 years ago. For a long time, I'd skirt the truth of how we met but age brings honesty and I'm happy to say that we actually met on the internet before meeting in person. It wasn't planned, there was no such thing as Match.Com, neither of us anticipated finding love the way we did. But it happened and I thank Bill Gates and all those pioneers of the internet for leading me to the love of my life. And when people questioned us how we met, we'd say that we were not much different to the couples who met during WW2 - the men on service leave in another country, meeting a saucy lass and making that lass their bride after much wooing and smitten letters sent over the seas.

My husband and I courted in our strange way, we would call each other and email and chat online - he'd send me endless amounts of handwritten letters (all beautifully stamped with a wax seal) and it was easy to imagine that it was the 1940s (at least with the letters) and not 2000 - there was no war, no tears or broken promises, no fear of this man who captured my heart, just a growing love. We met in person in Seattle, I returned to Australia - got a second job, saved my pennies and returned in April 2001 and we married that June.

Thats how I came to be here. I made it through the process of immigration which back then seemed so daunting, made even more so after 9/11. For my first year of living here, I was unable to work so I tried my best to help provide by scouring the internet for freebies and coupons. My first job here was managing a gift shop back in Washington State and since then I've worked in retail at places like Marshalls and Meijers, only to leave that world behind with the blessing of my husband who supported my decision to shoot for a career in photography which then led me to what I am doing today.

It's been a blessing to reach a vintage age, I'm much more forthright and open about myself and I am not one to shy away from speaking my mind or facing confrontation. I really don't have much of an ego though, honest! I hate having my photo taken and try to avoid putting pictures of myself out in the universe although if I get a really nice haircut, I'll whip out a selfie quicker than you can say "Justin Bieber is a nasty little plonker" - so do enjoy that charming photo of my sisters and I because it may be the only one you ever see.

My days are spent quite cheerfully doing chores, enjoying time with my two beautiful dogs and playing with crafts and all things antique and vintage. Being self employed allows for a great amount of flexibility but I still like to keep to a routine as so I don't get lazy or distracted. Mondays are what I call my "sacred cow day" - heaven help anyone who tries to get me out and about on a Monday. It's my day to get laundry done, clean coffee pot, do other household chores and do whatever I need to do after the weekends. So do forgive me, any friend who reads this - I don't do Mondays socially, it's just not my thing. You can grab me on a Tuesday, Thursday or Friday - even a Wednesday afternoon (Wednesday mornings are grocery mornings) but never expect to see me on a Monday.

I like a tidy house and am fussy about how I fold fitted sheets but don't expect a pristine clean - with two dogs and Ohio weather, I give up on the concept of a clean kitchen floor many moons ago. I'm pretty sure my broom faints every time I use it because it's not used to manual labor. And as a picker with merchandise to take to my booth, I sometimes use up all my storage space in the house until it gets moved from A to B so things do tend to get a little cluttered. M.O.T.H. and I are in contemplation of getting a bigger house so hopefully my neat streak can be returned to favorable levels.

I love to read although of late, it's hard to get time to do so. I used to love movies until it dawned on me that nearly everything released these days is utter crap. I absolutely love music and could do an entire blog about it but as you may have guessed by the snarky Bieber comment, I'm not too fond of todays standards. I love time with friends and have learned that it's not all about the quantity but the quality of the people one spends time with - it's taken me a long time but I finally have found "my people" as they say on Grey's Anatomy (I'm not addicted to that show at ALL!!) and I try to avoid letting people into my life who are filled with endless drama, theatrics and excessive ego. I'm just getting too old for all that and no longer have the patience for it.

So yep, I think thats almost about the entire summary and introduction of who I am. A creative person, a sometimes strange person, a dreamer. I'm human (at least I try to be although I talk dog pretty well), I make errors, I make mistakes but I learn from those and am willing to say sorry when needed or admit when I'm in the wrong. I'm sometimes mean but I try very hard to not be. I throw as much kindness and consideration to others in the universe as I can because I feel it's a good call to do so. Cooking is not my strongest forte but I can dish up something tasty when I apply myself, I'm an average sewer but can get by on the basics. I can swear like a sailor, or like anyone raised in Australia but I do have an attack of Miss Manners and try to be a lady and show some decorum.

I sucked at school but I have a thirst for learning - just not math. I'm often ignorant about current affairs but I try to update myself on the news. I love chocolate a little too much and mourn the loss of a youthful metabolism. I get scorching PMS and am trying to wish myself into early menopause so I don't have to deal with all the icky stuff that I deal with on a monthly basis (apologies to any male readers out there) and I sometimes wish I could go visit my younger self and tell her to be a little kinder to herself and to be less meek.

Lastly, I really get annoyed if I say "I" too much - because that feels a little too self absorbed and it's annoying.

And on that note, surely this is enough of an introduction. My tummy is yowling for some dinner, the MOTH is on his way home, the dogs are both being a little too quiet for my liking. So I'm off for now and will leave this blog be for a week at least. My promise to you is that the next blog will be more about something vintage, perhaps a little history lesson on Annette Kellerman? Some vintage theme recipes? 

Good night and farewell for now.

Sam aka The Vintage Chook.

P.S. Nanna would be proud, I didn't say f**k once!!

What a glorious Monday we have had today - feels like Spring, looks like Spring - sunny and mild. But don't be fooled, it's still winter. MEH! But I've made the most of this day and have done chores, taken photos, played with the dogs and tried to use the sunshine as my own personal battery recharger.

But now it's time to quickly blow out this weeks blog - dogs are now inside, my tummy is swimming with one of my infamous dirty mochas (got a slight buzz going on here - I shan't lie) and while I wait on the last load of laundry to dry, I'll have a tiddly little chat about the green dress in above photo.

As I hunt the internet for additional items to add to my collection, I am sometimes very fortunate to stumble across garments at a very respectable price and when I saw this dress listed on Etsy along with another as a wholesale listing, I had a happy moment and knew they would be much welcomed additions to my private collection.

Made the purchase and the vendor was terrific - communicated well and shipped the item off quickly. A few days later, I received a message from them and they had some interesting information about this dress. They were finally catching up with their DVR recordings of Downton Abbey and noticed in the first episode of season five, quickly into the show, there was a scene with Edith, Mary and Rose entering the drawing room prior to dinner and lo and behold, the dress Edith was wearing is near identical to the dress I had purchased.

Needless to say, I felt a little bad for the seller whom possibly would have sold this dress for much more if they had seen the episode before listing the dress. But it's a crap shoot out there in the world of vintage and I am now the lucky guardian who will treasure this dress all the more.

I examined the dress, I rewound, fast forwarded and paused the DVR recording of that Downton Abbey episode which oddly I'd not yet deleted from the masses of shows I have saved. I looked at the screen shot of Edith in the dress, ran to my clothing room to look at my dress and apart from the color and some rather distressing alterations, the two are as near identical as a dress can get.

So of course this made me curious. As noted on my dress, there are some alterations that had been made many moons ago - whether by original wearer or someone down the track, it's hard to say. Along the wide beaded band at the hip, there is some hand tacking which suggests someone was trying to shorten the length of the dress and I did carefully try to detach that tacking but felt the velvet was not strong enough to handle any modifications to the alterations (try saying that fast with a mild dirty mocha buzz).....

Anyhoo, best for me to leave the dress alone for now and when I get the chance, I'll sit and try to carefully attach some of the loose beading with invisible thread and hand stitch up the parts of the dress that are a bit sad at the seams which thankfully are only in the armpits.

As far as finding out the pedigree of this dress, I did stop to wonder about the situation of mine being almost the same as the one worn by Edith in D.A. and it's fairly common knowledge that the costume designers of D.A. use mostly reproduction clothing, crafted from original patterns of the era - which this dress is 1920s. They do that to give the show some accuracy as it would look a little weird for the characters to be wearing authentic vintage or antique garments since many like this dress of mine show signs of age and wear and the characters on the show would be wearing new garments in their day. Especially people of means. So kudos to the costume department on that score because I've seen many historical shows and movies that have the cast wearing colors and fabrics that are not even close to being authentic to the era depicted in them.

Yeah, I'm a bit bitchy when it comes to stuff like that. Example, watching a western movie and the saloon harlots are wearing the cheapest of taffeta in the brightest of tones and I screech at the TV "Thats not accurate!!!!" - am sure this little oddity drives the M.O.T.H insane. But I can't help it, I like when the movie and television industry put in some thought and research into the fashions they use, and Downton Abbey is among the best. While they have taken certain liberties in the styling and design of some of the garments, it's never glaring or inappropriate and always looks as tasteful and as accurate as can be.

Okay, so now the dirty mocha is wearing off and the laundry has stopped which means I'd better hustle this bustle to get it all folded and put away. It sure is a giant pain in the bum to have to deal with normal laundry when I'd much rather play with my vintage goodies. But it has to be done so I can enjoy my day tomorrow - my first picking adventure with the Merlot Ninja for 2015! Wheeeeee! Hopefully we shall find treasure and enjoy some much needed catch up time.

To wrap this up, I've yipped about the dress I have and how it appears the same as the one worn by Edith on D.A. so after a little consideration, I decided to email Cosprop, the supplier of clothing and costume for Downton Abbey among others. I'm hoping they can give me some insight on the dress that Edith was wearing, if it was reproduced based on the creation of a well known designer back in the 1920s. While it's certainly not a Chanel design, it may be possible that the one I have is an original from someone of that era or at least a very great representation of a design, copied by some individual back in the roaring 20s which is a stronger possibility. The only way to find out is to wait and hope that a member of Cosprop responds to my email in a timely fashion and until then I'll just dream.....dream of the lavish gowns and frocks from the age of the flappers and stare lovingly at my beauty of a dress and no matter it's pedigree, I'm proud to be it's guardian for as long as possible.

Rightie - oh. Off I go. I'll be sure to update you all if I hear more.

May you dream of velvets, scattered with beading like stars in the sky.

Sam. xx

Trying to type this weeks blog with a beagle on my lap so please bear with if there are errors. Yes, I sit at the computer and type with a wriggling, furry, pesky dog sitting on my lap and I wouldn't have it any other way....PHEW....he jumped off. Thats better.

So you may be wondering about that ethereal photo above, wondering who that young lass is? That very beautiful lass happens to be my darling paternal Grandmother, Helen Hughes who posed for this photo in 1931 and will be turning the grand age of 92 this year and is still every bit as beautiful as she was back when this photo was taken.

I'm fortunate to come from a family who at least on the paternal side, has kept records and photos of the clan and while much of the nitty gritty has been lost over the years, the basic information of my roots is kept both in documentation and in the memory bank of my Uncle who is the history keeper. I often look back on the family heritage website and search the faces of my ancestors, going back as far as the late1800s at least with photos (although we have the tree tracked back to end of the 1700s) and I often wonder about them, what their lives were like and what they would think of their descendants.....I dare say they would think us very loose with our behavior and with potty mouths to match!

My beautiful Grandma has always had a strong sense of history, a deep commitment to making sure we know our past and she has been a tremendous influence to me over the years, especially as I mature and want a stronger connection with my family, my history, my roots. And of course as some know, she has greatly inspired the path I walk today in the field of vintage and antiques.

To loosely sum things up, Grandma herself had a strong love of antiques and in particular, she loved textiles - clothing specifically and through inheritance on both her side and her husbands side, started to amass items such as the wedding garments of her mother and grandmother, odds and ends that were handed down over years and stashed away while she raised her 6 hearty sons in South Australia. As those sons all grew and married and started families of their own, she finally had the opportunity to further her passion which branched out to various causes - vintage clothing fashions shows to raise money for charity, she took those fashions to retirement homes where even the most disinterested senior would perk up at seeing the clothing of their youth. And in her later years, she opened and established a clothing and costume museum in her home town of Lobethal which was quite an epic feat and it remained a town institution for many years, drawing in tourists and people with a love of vintage and antiques.

As a child, I'd visit my Grandparents during school holidays and would sleep in rooms filled to the brim with all things old - wander through a room filled with clothing and books - play dress ups with my many cousins and sleep with one eye open, fearful of the millinery display  head my sister saw fit to draw a face on. We thought nothing of it and didn't understand her passion or the time and thought she put into it all.

Flash forward 30 odd years and as I went through my life here in the United States, I was trying to find my footing and discovering ever so late the things I had a mild skill at, such as photography. Through the process of photography, I realized that with doing portraits, I wanted to control the vision and image that I was creating and thus, started to slowly amass garments and accessories for photo shoots. And one shoot I long wanted to do (and am yet to achieve) was a 1920s based look featuring a wool swimsuit from that era.

I googled, I researched and pored websites until one day I found what I was looking for listed on Etsy - a navy blue woolen swimsuit from the 1920s which cost me the outrageous price of $13.00. I was delighted when it arrived and even more so delighted when I saw the label attached which had the designers name "Annette Kellerman". Immediately called Grandma who shared my excitement and proceed to inform me of who Annette Kellerman was - which in itself is quite a story and best saved for another blog on another day.

So thats when the seed was planted, and it sprouted. And my love for vintage clothing took off like a rocket and I've never looked back. So I hunted, I prowled, I collected. I used clothing in shoots and if I couldn't find what I wanted, I adapted. I would sit online for hours on end and look at photos, I'd look at Etsy and study every inch of the fashions I'd see on there and if i was lucky, I'd stumble across someone selling a dress or a skirt or a suit for a fabulous price and I would pounce like a demented cat. No formal training here folks, just a natural instinct and a brain that soaks it all in like a sponge.

Time went by and as my collection grew, my house shrunk....now I'm no hoarder and thankfully have my mothers neat streak so something had to give. I met a wonderful lass who has an antique business who kindly allowed me to sell some of my excess at her store and as that happened, I fell further into the world of antiques - meeting people, going to sales, gaining more knowledge and somewhere along the way, Riley Street Vintage was born - Riley Street being where my Grandmother still lives, the house she raised my father and 5 brothers in - a house that is full of so many memories and is a huge part of our heritage.

Anyway, I really am not so great at this writing business and could just blindly type and yabber on all day long without rhyme or reason. But this records and documents how I meandered my way to where I am now. By collecting clothing, I started to look harder at all vintage and antiques and because the picking side of things is such a high, I guess I just landed where I am meant to be - selling goodies at an antique mall. It's been great, it gave me a purpose when I was feeling at such a loss of where to go in life, it opened up my bottomless pit of creativity and it's expanded and enriched my life more than I thought possible.

All because many decades ago, a young girl found her passion. And through fate and blood, that passion was passed on.

My beautiful Grandma - I owe all this to her. I'm proud of her for all she's done, for all she created - for believing in herself and achieving so much.

And that my friends is all for today - the beagle and the swiffer are demanding dinner. You know now the history behind Riley Street Vintage, at least the nuts n' bolts of it. And you never know, it may inspire you to delve into your history - you never know what your ancestors may have inspired or inspire you to do. If anyone shares a common love of something or a skill with one of their elders or ancestors, be sure to fill me in, I'd love to hear about it!

Cheers for now - have a great week ahead!

Sam.

Anyway, now I'm here - what shall I talk about? I think I'll start discussing (is it a discussion if one is typing this and no-one will probably read it?) a topic that is talked about often within the good people whom are in the situation as being owners of a small business in the antiques or hand crafted industry.

Dollars and cents (or sense) - how we, as business owners get mooched upon, publicly slayed and taken advantage of because we are our own business, we are small and humble and therefore, people think they can take what they want from us and not cause damage.

This stems from an update I saw on Facebook recently, from a gent who owns a small business making incredible custom furniture - items that are beautifully put together to last a lifetime and are as unique as his own DNA. He had been rudely challenged by someone who took offense to the pricing of his goods and they felt they could make something the same for much much less. So this raised the point of the business owners expenses from A to B and why he prices the items as he does.

Good read, good food for thought and it's a topic long discussed by many in the small business industry. While I am not in that gents league as far as being an artisan or larger scale small business, I am still in my little part of the pond, a business non the less so I'm going to throw something out in the wind for people to ponder.

I sell vintage and sometimes hand crafted items. In a large antique mall. So there alone, I have rent to pay as well as a commission fee that comes out of each sale. Next on the list is the expense of pricing all my merchandise. We do pay for our tags and if we wish to add our own flourish to set ourselves apart, then we have the expense of our own tagging too. And signage to tell people who we are. And business cards. All that stuff costs money - sure wish it would be free but it isn't. 

I sell clothing. So there is the expense of coat hangers - something of which can get broken, or disappear into other peoples booths. I finally am caving in and putting my garments on plastic hangers which is the more economical way of doing things but they still cost me buckaroos. Then something to tag the clothing with - some people use safely pins (which cost $$$), I use a tagging gun with the plastic dooflinkies which is a nifty way of doing things but guess what? Those plastic dooflinkies cost money.

Now I do my best to clean everything that I put into my booth because I don't want people buying something thats grubby - thats not cool. Everything gets a wipe down or a wash - which brings me to the expenses of cleaning supplies and laundry items. That adds up.....fast! 

Then we have advertising and promotions. Facebook is free of course but to reach a larger audience, we have to pay for that. Then this website, this isn't free. To show customers some love and appreciation, I sometimes take baked goods to give away at the store. Thats out of my pocket. As are gift baskets or giveaways. I don't complain about this because I like doing nice things for people but it does cost money so I have to factor it into the long term scheme of things.

And then there is time - time spent hunting down items to sell, the money spent on those items. Bringing them home and all the time spent cleaning them, tagging them, taking them into the booth, time spent merchandising etc etc etc. My time has value just like anyone else.

When it comes to handcrafted goods, well I don't do as much of that any more since I foolishly discovered the cost to make a pouf and fill it (stuffing those things made me poor) but still, little things add up, glue, paints, thread - need I go on?

So I could sit here for hours and wax poetic about all this - it's been discussed and chewed over time and time again. We price our wares after much consideration of what went into it all, we put it in our booths and stores........then we have people haggle. Haggling is expected at flea markets, haggling is expected at garage sales. Haggling is expected at fish markets. But to ask for more than the industry standard in most antique stores? Well, thats just flat out insulting. I've had people take advantage of having an extremely faint acquaintanceship with me to try and get a discount on my items and guess what? I no longer will do anything for those people because I know if I went into their place of business and asked for a discount on their services, they would slam a door in my face.

This little mouse has a mighty roar so don't ever try the above. I will bite.

I beg of you to please think about and consider all I have said - now when you look at a small business or a craftsperson, think about how much they are pouring into what they do. Not just monetary expenses but also the love of what they are doing. By asking for things cheaper, you are cheapening what they are passionate about. I promise not to get on this soapbox again but it's time people spoke up about this, time that people were appreciated for what they do and time for small business owners to shake their crafty fists in the air and say "no more!"

Stepping off the soapbox (vintage one of course) and thanking whomever reads this and wishing all a great week ahead.

Toodles for now.

Sam.

I'm sitting here on this New Years Day, fluffing around with my poor neglected website and blog which has been gathering dust for some time now. The past year has been a vintage adventure with my booth at Antiques Village being my primary focus and I've loved every bit of it. It's been such a learning experience and the adventures I've had and people I've met along the way, well it's all been more than wonderful.

But sadly that means that my time as a "professional photographer" has suffered and to be honest, it's been a long time coming. I hang up my hat there with no regrets and Big Gig Photography will still exist in my heart and as part of Riley Street Vintage. I'm getting older, less patient and less inclined to deal with the egos that come with the photography side of things so it's all for the best and I'm thankful for all I've learned through the past 6 or so years.

But don't expect me to put down that camera! Oh no - that will NEVER happen. I still have a wealth of ideas for portraits to wade through, concepts that need to come to life. Vintage clothing galore to adorn those whom are willing to be my subjects and of course a world of travel, vintage and antiques to capture when I can. I hope to spend more of this year with my camera in hand and more time exploring the wonderful world of antiques.

I could keep yipping on here but I'm going to sneak over to the Riley Street Vintage Facebook page and poach the update I made earlier which will hopefully bring a little more clarity to what I'm doing. So here it is below - millions of thanks to the poor souls who take the time to read all this and I wish you all the best of luck for 2015, may it bring many good things your way. xx

"Pinch and punch for the first day of the month! We made it folks, it's now 2015!! Hope you all had a festive evening and that the celebrations were joyful.

As the new year kicks off, I contemplate. I'm not one for making resolutions, I only wish to continue working on the goals and dreams I've had over the last year or so. And as I pondered those this morning, a lovely friend posted on my private FB wall about a fun dream she had last night which was very vintage inspired and in the ensuing discussion, I was struck with a epiphany based on three simple words.

"A Vintage Year"

No lightning bolts or light bulbs popping up over my head in a cartoonish fashion, just a seed of a thought that grew with a rapid speed. And then, only then did I think to myself that maybe it was time to get back to my blog which has sadly been neglected. On a website thats been gathering dust.

So with excitement and promise, I grabbed my camera and nabbed a few vintage items I have around the house and made the most of the morning light filtering in through the windows. One of those items was this vintage silver teapot which for some reason, I've been unable to part with. Maybe because it's lovely? Maybe because I have a funny memory attached to it now?

MOTH (Man of The House) walked into the Den of Craft (my chick cave) one day and saw this teapot and says to me "I have to ask, have you ever rubbed it in the hope a genie will pop out?" to which my reply was "Of course!".

We laughed and laughed and I'm not afraid to admit the hopes are there that something will pop out and grant my every wish. Although reality is, probably there will be a stinkbug lurking in there and just gift me with that offensive aroma that they emit.

So anyway, long story cut short - thank you Angela for inspiring me and giving me the motivation to get started on something that will only serve me well in the long run. My time in the next week or two will be to revamp my website, get my blog updated on a weekly basis, pick up my camera much more often and share my love of all things vintage with a journey through "A Vintage Year".

It's a good day, a good way to start 2015 and I wish you all a day of hope and promise.

Sam the Stinkbug Slayer."

I went from collecting to selling and now am part of a new venture with a friend where we have a booth at a new antiques mall that opened up in our area this summer. It's been so very awesome and I've had the pleasure of getting to meet some pretty incredible people as well as learning so much more about something I've long had an interest in. I love it, it's like a dream for me but I do miss the photography side of things and am planning to get back into the thick of it in 2014. I've been generous with my time in the past with photography but have learned the hard way that the more you give, the more people want and as a result, I've given so much with little appreciation or consideration so my goal is to no longer allow that to happen to myself.

In other words, no more freebies!!! Sorry about that. It's beaten me in the past but no more and I plan to come back with more resolve and dedication. And I plan to integrate my photography side with my vintage side so I can enjoy both of my passions and delve more into creativity.

All that aside, I still have optimism and a love for what I do and I hope to share that with you all in the new year.

Two more sleeps until Christmas - one more sleep for my friends on the other side of the pond in Australia. I wish everyone the happiest of days - may it be spent with loved ones and with the enjoyment of a day with meaning regardless of how you celebrate. My best to all and may you have a Merry Merry day.

So what to do about that? I had my clothing and handcrafted items out at The Tartan Turtle for about 6 months or so but when the word got out that there was a new antique mall opening here in Centerville, just 10 minutes away from our house, well it seemed logical to make the move. It was exciting enough to know that we were finally getting something of its type in the area and for the sake of my dear new friend Val, it was a fantastic new location for her business to move to. We talked, we rejoiced and we started planting the seeds of ideas. After talking to another dear new friend, Jenn from Bea Unique Designs, it made sense for her and I to share a booth since neither of us had enough to do a booth each of our own. So with all that, we then told the darling Charlotte from The Tartan Turtle about it and convinced her to have a booth down there too!

And from that, the trifecta of awesomeness was born since we are all next to each other in this big honking space!! The Antiques Village is going to have over 300 vendors and it's shaping up to be the most desirable place to be. So after the deal was done and we'd paid for our first months rent, we started crafting and picking like our little lives depended on it!!! So that has filled my days since the idea became a reality.

On the personal end of the spectrum, I struggled to settle back into life after the return from Australia. Each time going home is so precious and for a short time we are removed from the mundane so to return to the day to day routine was extremely difficult. And for quite some time, I've felt very alone and very lonely but thats starting to wane a bit as I change the course of life and build new relationships. And of course with the new business venture, that keeps my brain from dwelling on the sadness too much.

So just as life was starting to get a bit more relaxed, we decided to add a small amount of chaos in in the form of a 11 month old rescue dog - a beagle/blue heeler mix whom we named Bernie! I was initially quite hesitant to add another member to the family but ultimately Abby was the deciding factor and her instant acceptance of Bernie was the deal breaker. We'd long suspected she was a bit lonely after losing so many of her buddies including the passing of her beloved "big brother" Jack and we knew that a new addition to the family would boost her spirits and add balance again. While Jack is and always will be irreplaceable, there is room in all our hearts to love again and I'd like to think Jack would approve of Bernie and our decision.

What we didn't foresee was that young Bernie is "Spider Dog" and within 45 minutes of his arrival to our home, had managed to climb our chain link fence to try and visit with a corgi walking by. Thankfully Scott hopped the fence and returned Bernie to our domain and the decision was made immediately to get a company in to install a 6ft privacy fence which we had considered for quite a few years. In the duration of waiting for fence to be installed, Scott left for business in Germany and France, I have been trying to get items ready for booth and trying to get Bernie to focus on getting his business done in the yard on a leash. Three weeks of walking the yard and streets with a leash in hand was starting to grow very very old. But there is light at end of tunnel and fence got started yesterday with the remainder being done tomorrow and then life will be much easier. Bernie can roam the yard freely while I focus on painting items for the store and getting the garden cleaned up.

And during all this hectic chaos, I'm still plodding away at losing weight and I'm happy to report that I've lost a little over ten pounds since we got back from Australia - bringing my total loss in the ball park of about 35 pounds since February. Scott too has benefited from this life style change and just like a guy, lost all that and then some, bringing him down to the weight he was when we met. So between us both, we had to pretty much rid our entire wardrobe and start from scratch!! He's at his ideal now, I'm still about 25 - 30 pounds to go before I can go nuts shopping for a new wardrobe. It's been good for us and we feel so much better for it.

So thats all the chatter here - new dog, new lifestyles, new business, new friends, new bodies, new fence and possibly a new patio. And a new outlook on life.

Stay tuned for all the updates on the business and I'll be getting more back into the photography side of things once the fence is up and getting back to a little more portrait work in the Fall.

Take care and enjoy the dog days of summer....may the sun keep shining over you all.

But I can't dwell. I can't spend too much time in reflection because there is so much to be done. Our lovely airplane is out of her annual inspection so there are days of flying to look forward to. I've just signed up to share a booth in a new antique mall thats opening soon in our area so there is sewing, painting, crafting to be done. A few photo shoots with friends to plan. A house that needs endless work. And as I do each task, as I enjoy each moment, I will remind myself that Australia is always going to be there, waiting for us to return. 

As mentioned some time ago, I was trying to veer away from portraits a bit and no longer will be accepting any gigs involving portraits whether it be weddings or head shots etc etc. This was a hard decision to make but until I get a good studio space and can have more control over the environment I'm working in, I'll only be doing the odd portrait with friends and even that is going to be kept to a minimum.

But when one door closes, another opens and I've been a busy beaver doing hand crafted goodies to sell at The Tartan Turtle - a local store that sells antiques and hand crafted items. As part of my new venture, I have "Riley Street Vintage" which involves the clothing items I am happy to part with as well as hand crafted pillows and other assorted odds and ends - the joy of all this is being able to photograph antiques and all things vintage as well as have the opportunity to take photos at such a lovely location.

One day I made a pillow using just scraps of pretty fabrics. Next thing you know, I was taking custom orders and sewing like a mad woman!! So thats been fun and has allowed me to be creative in a way I didn't think I could be and of course as always, one idea leads to another and another and another so my brain is always ticking away at what I can do next.

On a more personal front, I've been fortunate to meet so many fantastic people in the antiques and vintage community just by stopping in to some of the great stores in the area as well as newer ones that have just opened up. And in process have made some really steadfast new friends who are such a joy to have in my life. During such a dreary winter, they were a bright ray of sunshine!!! Some helped me turn 40 years of age in March with a lot of dignity and laughter - and our darling aviation friends helped me turn 40 with less dignity and even more laughter. Husband and I always are reminded how fortunate we are to have such a diverse group of amazing friends.

Anyone who knows me well knows how much I yearn for the chance to do photography in far flung places and I'm excited to report that in 19 more sleeps I'll be getting that chance with a trip home to Australia - a much needed trip to be with my family, to see the people I love and explore new places. With my parents now living in beautiful Queensland, we'll be seeing them in a stunning environment, ripe with photo opportunities. Plus a week with my beloved Grandma who is turning a spry 90 years of age, well it will be a trip to remember and I'll likely have my camera permanently glued to my eyeball.

And that is about all for now. An uneventful start to a year but the adventures are just beginning........

So a belated Happy New Year to you all - I hope 2013 kicked off with a bang so to speak and that all is well in your worlds. 

I was sitting on the floor today, sorting through household papers - filing, arranging and general what not when I came across a receipt that tore my heart open just a little more. It was the receipt for our dog Jack from the crematorium that he was taken to after we said our goodbyes back in April this year. And having had a rough nights sleep (or lack thereof), lots of things on my mind - well I just burst into tears because we miss Jack ever so much. Scott misses his buddy dearly and Jack's presence is so sorely missed by us all.

As I sat there and wept, our little Abby came over to me and nudged my arm and gave my face a kiss. And it reminded me why dogs rule - they sense our emotion and give us so much comfort when needed. Her small action made the tears slow down and gave me pause to smile and give her kisses. As our only dog in the house for now, she is our world - she makes us laugh, she keeps me company and is the greatest thing to Scott and I both. And I know she misses her buddies whom we have said goodbye to in the last 12 months.

There was her "brother" Jack whom Scott got from an Oregon pound, many years ago. Jack was very much a strong and loving boy with a dash of mischievous thrown in for good measure!!! He was Scott's best friend and Jack's loyalty to his "Dad" was massive. With a deep woof that came from a dog small of stature but huge of heart, he sounded bigger than he was!!! I could go on forever about Jack but all I can say is most people who knew Jack, knew what a brilliant and one of a kind of a dog he was. He was the heart and soul of our home - when we close our eyes and go very quiet, we can see him in our mind and hear the clatter of his nails on the floor as he made his rounds.

Another family member from the start was Deeterman - the darling dog who belonged to Scott's Mom and Dad. He was jokingly referred to as "Forrest Gump" and had such a goofy and funny personality! And he loved hanging out with Jack and Abby - the three of them together were quite a sight and gave us much amusement. Deets was most fond of hugs and crawling over us which was funny since he was a larger guy but it just meant more to love!!! Sadly Deets got older like Jack and his poor body couldn't hold on any more and my in-laws lost their best buddy. It was such a sudden goodbye and I know how much they miss him.

With us for a short time was Zoey, a beautiful lady of a dog who came to us via our dear friend Linda who loved her Zoey so very very much. Linda sadly lost a battle with cancer, a terrible thing that took her away from everyone too soon and as we prepared to say goodbye, we promised to take Zoey and give her a home with us as long as she wanted. Zoey was such a sweet soul with the goofiest ears ever!!! And her "goodnights" were always loving and so precious with ear rubs and kisses. She was with us for about 9 months when she took ill and decided it was time to join her "Mommy" - it was so hard to let her go since she was our reminder of our dear friend Linda but we took comfort knowing they were together again.

So then it was just Abby....lone dog standing. And I know for her, losing her friends was confusing and affected her in ways we'll never be able to fathom. A trip to the vet became something to dread and would we come through the door minus dog or not? Tears flowed as we said goodbyes and Abby was there to keep us holding it together as she has done ever since.

But there are new beginnings and back in May, Scott's parents had a new arrival to the family - a Wheaten called Barley! A lively bundle of energy with a precious face and a happy smile. He's gone from puppy stage to mid puppy stage and is keeping my in-laws on their toes!!! Full of beans and a super mega happy loving nature, Barley's story has just begun and we love that there is a new member of the family - hopefully next year Abby will have a new buddy here with us too! So the losses have been great but the memories always remain and when there are tears, there are still our babies here to love and cherish which they return in abundance.

A thank you to my beautiful Abigail Victoria for giving me the love I needed today to feel better. Thank you for being our goody peanut. And thank you to Jack, Deets and Zoey for being a part of our lives - I hope that where ever you are today, that you are together and keeping an eye on us!!!

And the other person is Donna - a former boss who was as tough as a boot, went through the process twice and never gave up regardless. Its been a few years now since she lost the battle but I will never forget her determination and strong will. Even when she felt poorly, she worked like a demon and expected the same from us - we thought her illness would slow her down but no way was she going to let that happen.

So each year, I will continue to take photos for the cause. I'll remember the ones who are no longer with us, I'll try to honor them the best I can. And I'll always support and cheer on the people who are fighting it. Hopefully one day there will be a cure - until then, always remember and be brave!!!!

So tomorrow we are off to the big Springfield Antique Show - a honey pot of treasures held yearly and attended by people not only all across America but from across the globe. I wonder what we will find? Hoping it will be small items that I can store neatly in the house - if I find big goodies, I'm going to have some "Uh Oh" moments. Wish us luck as we go forth and "pick" with enthusiastic abandon and hopefully by this time tomorrow, we will have goodies galore to play with and keep us amused as the days get shorter. Stay tuned to see what crazy things we find!!

And thats okay. Most vintage clothing lovers (myself included) adore the fact that things get passed around, going to people who love and appreciate it as much as we do. We are just carers and guardians of these treasures for a short time, making sure they get passed on to people who in turn will keep them safe for another generation. As for becoming a seller, I didn't have to go far for inspiration with a name - one of my biggest influences is my Grandmother who's passion for fashion has resulted in a lifetime of work. More on that another time though, for now - I'm happy to introduce my side venture as "Riley Street Vintage".

With all that being said, we had the fortune of meeting a wonderful lady recently, Charlotte at The Tartan Turtle in Lebanon who has invited me to come and spend a day at her store to sell my excess items and I've loved tapping into my merchandising and retail background for the event. I'll be setting up shop there on Saturday the 8th September from 10.30am until Charlotte begs me to leave and will be selling a large range of clothing, accessories, decorative items and some fine art photography. There will be baked goods on offer (free!!) while supplies last and a small gift with any purchase over $10.00 from my stall. 

So be sure to come and visit this fun event - The Tartan Turtle have a fantastic supply of handcrafted goods and vintage / antique items, all at really great prices. Hope to see you there!!!

https://www.facebook.com/TheTartanTurtlesCottage

So here goes......

To Mike and Kirsty Wertz (Friends / Marketing Legends / Christmas Tree Gurus) - From the beginning, you've believed in me. You've always cheered us on and have been the super marketing legends who've always spread the word when we needed it. Thank you for being such great friends and for pushing me along when I've needed pushing. Love you guys and we are forever glad you are in our lives.

To Leslie Ruby Randall (Make Up Artist / Model / Vintage Clothing Princess) - Fate, serendipity, whatever it should be known as...I didn't know that from something so simple, a friendship would evolve. And I'm glad it did. As a model, a make up artist, an inspiration - you are outstanding. But above all else, you are our friend. And without your skills, we would still be floundering. Your work makes our work look better and we make a darn good team! You complete me and I always treasure our endless phone calls. xxx

To Krystal K (Queen of Vintage Picking / Model) - As with Leslie, I didn't know that I'd find such a great friend through business but I did! And I'm always glad our paths crossed. We cant thank you enough for feeding our vintage "stuff" addiction and for being the best tiny dancer that we know! Thanks for always digging up great locations for us and thanks for being a true friend and inspiration for so much of what I do.

To Cassie Wilson (Make Up Artist and Creative Visionary) - We never get to work together enough but when we do, I always enjoy it. Its been such a joy to see you grow with your work and your calm, laid back style helps me get through shoots and keeps me relaxed which is something I value very much. My dear owl friend, you are awesome and I hope we get more play dates on schedule in the future.

To Melissa McManus (Hair Stylist Guru / Giggle Monster) - Funny how the world works. We met, we laughed. We didn't see each other again for ages. We met again. We laughed some more. And while we hardly get to see each other, our random communications, phone calls and texts always keep me smiling. And when we work together, we are always blown away by what great work you do!!! Thank you for being our precious "Giggles" - we adore you.

To Quincy, Ashley H, Ashlee B, Caressa, Morgan, Emily B and Paige - The models who have inspired us, believed in us and given us 100% always. Our thanks always for the great company and the brilliance of each and every one of you.

To Laura Beth (Fashion Fiend / Vintage Picker / Best Etsy Seller Ever) - I'm always so glad we found each other. Thanks for finding me the treasures I need to build my collection, thanks for the texts with photos of clothing that you find, thanks for the bountiful excitement when you do find treasures - when you get excited, I get excited! One day we will meet my friend and we will shop like champions! You'll always have a friend here in Ohio.

To my In Laws - Thank you for all you do. Your support and love has been endless and you never laugh at my crazy ideas. I'm a lucky duck for having such great in laws and appreciate everything you've done for us over the years from dog sitting to getting me out of the house when I need it most and for listening when we've needed to have a whinge!! Love you lots!

My darling Abby - You cant read. You are a dog. But you are our treasured baby, our reason for smiling and you make us laugh every day. And the way you love to snuffle through bags of vintage clothing, the way you muscle in on shoots for that perfect photo op - it makes me crack up every time. You are more precious to me than anything on this earth.

Last but not least - my darling husband who has taught me so much. Words cant express how much you mean to me. You've supported me from the beginning and let me follow my dreams. Even when I've been slow at getting things done, you still believe it me and have been my biggest fan and my partner in crime. Without you, I'm only half of myself. I love you with all my heart and look forward to fulfilling our dreams for the future.

P.S. A quick shout out to Judith and Roger, Jess Gore, Nicole Roberts and other friends who support Big Gig. We cant thank you enough for all of what you do. We are lucky to have you as friends. xxxx