Introducing Mariella

Ever since I can remember I have wanted to have my very own cat. And finally, here she is! Her RSPCA name was Charlie but I don't think she has very fond memories of the RSPCA, so I have renamed her Mariella or "Mari" for short. (Mari is the Welsh form of Mary too.)

It must be true what they say about the animal picking you and not the other way around. If you had told me a week ago that I would be the owner of a female black and white cat I would not have believed you. I went to the RSPCA looking for a grey or ginger male cat.

She seems to be settling in very well. Every day she does something different. Last night was her first attempt at jumping on the kitchen bench to see if she could get some prawns! Luckily she's a bit scared of loud noises and sudden movements, so it didn't take much to let her know that this was not on. Her other favourite activities are kneading cushions for about 10 minutes while purring loudly, getting brushed and gazing whistfully out the window. Unfortunately, I'm not letting her out just yet - the RSPCA recommended keeping her inside for four weeks, but I'm going to rig up some netting in the back courtyard so she can go out before that. I'm determined that she won't catch any wildlife, so the courtyard may be the furthest she ever gets. We'll see...

Rooftop garden at work update

The rooftop garden at work is going wonderfully. We've been eating silverbeet and parsley already. Although silverbeet and kale are winter crops, some kind souls did donate these seedlings to us, so we figured, what the hell. They haven't bolted to seed yet, but it probably won't be long. You can see how wonderfully well it is all growing. My only regret is that I never took a "before" shot to show you how totally horrid it was before - all dead shrubs and weeds in each and every pot. All but one of the old trees have been removed.

Kohl rabi, lettuce, poppies, a marigold and snow peas in this pot

The list of what we have planted now is quite long:
chili
dill
spring onions
poppies
parsley
kale
silverbeet
tomatoes (Lord knows how many varieties)
pumpkin
cucumber
zucchini
lettuce
kohl rabi
carrots
lavender
rosemary
snow peas
beans
sunflowers
nasturtiums
marigolds
coriander
strawberries
rocket
probably some more things I've forgotten about!

The west section of the terrace. More pots up the other end too!

The front of The Front!

This is a special post I've written after reading Bell's post today about rude treatment by The Front Cafe in Lyneham of people I know and respect. I started writing a comment on Bells's blog, but I just had too much to say so I'm posting here instead. You may need to read Bells's post before reading this to make full sense of it.

I just can't figure this one out. The Front *seems* like it would be an inclusive, progressive community-minded establishment. But our group has more proof than we need now that The Front, contrary to appearances, is not one of these at heart. My first theory is that the person in question might have had some sort of previous traumatic experience with a knitting needle and needs therapy to get over it! An alternative theory (thanks, O) is that this matter relates to the art-craft schism and that this person has an outdated view of knitting. He sees it as sitting way at the "uncool" end of the craft part of the spectrum. He doesn't want his business's cred to be diminished by having this sort of "embarrassing" activity associated with it. What he fails to see, evidently, is that although most knitting does reside at the craft end of the craft/art spectrum, there is tremendous creativity within it and that this activity speaks to us in much the same way as the "regular" type of visual art speaks to him. He probably also doesn't know about the knitting that is considered modern art. One of my favourite knitting books is "KnitKnit" by Sabrina Gschwandtner. As well as avant guard fashion items, it also features installation art such as Isabel's Berglund's knitted room called "City of Stitches"

and Dave Cole's giant toxic knitted fibreglass teddy bear.


There is also Bridget Marrin's knitted stainless-steel gas regulators and Jim Drain's far-out Forcefield stuff.

And some of us have already dabbled a bit in public knitted art a la Knitta's continuing worldwide public art project (see also the Flickr group 'Urban Knitting').

All this is totally inspirational and much of it requires a high degree of technical skill. And because knitting isn't regarded as a mainstream art in our society, we don't go to art school to learn how to do this stuff - we meet in sociable groups in cafes to share and develop our passion.

I'm going to end with an ambitious idea. If this art/craft divide IS what's behind Mr Front's affront to knitters, I wonder if he'd be interested in seeing what knitters CAN produce with their sticks by way of art. Anyone up for creating an exhibition of knitted modern art with me? I can think of some gorgeous pears and cupcakes which would already fit the bill. We just maybe won't be approaching The Front to show it - they might not let people in the door to see it.

Rooftop gardening at the office

I think it must be the sunshine and the changing of the clocks. I've been feeling all nature-girl this week. I've started what I hope will become a vegetable and herb garden on the rooftop balcony of my building at work. I remember when I first started there two years ago I noticed the large concrete pots out there full of dead trees and weeds. I think it might have been winter and so I wasn't entirely sure if they were dead or just deciduous and didn't really know who to speak to about it at the time. Now two years later I've take things into my own hands and I've started weeding out the dead stuff and the weeds. It looks like perfectly good soil (although I wouldn't really know) but I have found earthworms and millipede insects in there so that's a good sign of fertility, hopefully. A few of my colleagues are up for being involved, so I'm hoping that next week some cuttings and seeds will appear from their generous homes. I'll have to remember to take my camera next week to document the progress of this exciting project. For now you'll just have to make do with this photo of the building.

The balcony is along the left side of the roof in this picture and wraps around two-fifths of the front from the top left corner. It's north-facing, so perfect for things that need lots of sun.
There are 6 or 7 concrete pots of about 1 x 1 metre (3 or 4 ft square) and 50cm (1.5 ft) high spread out along the balcony and probably about 10 more smaller round pots, most of which have geraniums in them. Geraniums apparently are very tolerant of dry conditions because although they've become tall and straggly they're fairly healthy despite never being watered in their pots and surviving on the rain alone, which is pretty good for a potted plant.

I'm also considering setting up a worm farm out there as the balcony is right near the department kitchen and all the organic waste currently goes to landfill, which really isn't right, especially for an environmental science department! I happen to have a plastic worm farm box set sitting in the garage that I got from one of my favourite places in Canberra - Aussie Junk at Mitchell. I think it cost me $5 but I've not put it into action yet, as the compost bin in our yard looks after our kitchen scraps at home. Anyway, here's a pic of the worm farm and a pic of the papers I got from a vermiculture information session I went to once at the Canberra Environment Centre.




I'm still a bit unsure about how it will work and a little hesitant knowing that if it doesn' t work, I will have killed living things, but I think it's worth a go. My mum has had a successful worm farm for quite some time. Hmm...think I will give her a ring now to double check what I need to get started. And then I might read a bit more of my "Food Not Lawns" book that just makes me want to move to the greeny haven of certain parts of Oregon.

Vibrant embroidery through heavy eyelids

The last time I moved house I didn't sleep right for about 2 months. With my impending next move now less that 3 weeks away, the sleeplessness has just begun again. Oh, boy. The upside is I was done at work by 1.45pm and have had a blissful afternoon of veging out in front of TV of varying quality ranging from the crap (Entertainment Tonight and The Bold and the Beautiful - each full of freakishly proportioned semi-humans) and excellent (SBS Food Safari Pakistan edition. Mmm - Yum! and Seachange - I never saw it all those years ago).

The other lovely thing I've been doing this afternoon is exploring the world of Takashi Iwasaki's art and in particular his embroidery. I'm an instant fan!

Nyokinyokinijiirokousen by Takashi Iwasaki
Embroidery floss and canvas (hand embroidered)

Traffic Jam by Takashi Iwasaki

Mixed media on paper

Learning Auslan

For about 6 weeks now I've been attending Auslan classes at the Canberra Institute of Technology (CIT). Auslan is Australian Sign Language - the language of the Deaf community in Australia. (No, sign language is not universal - there are different sign languages all over the world, although Auslan is related to British Sign Language, in a similar way as Australian English is related to British English.) I am absolutely loving it. Our teachers are amazing and manage to make the 5-6 hours of classes a week fly by. I've been able to slot comfortably into a second-semester class with other students who have been learning the language for the past 6 months. I've been gobsmacked at this because it's been 9 years since I last studied Auslan and that was only one year at La Trobe University in Melbourne.

Words like proper nouns and technical terms are often spelled out quickly in Auslan according to their English spelling. "Reading" another person's fingerspelling is one of the skills that takes the longest to acquire, but it seems like I've picked up where I left off with this, which is wonderful.

Here is the two-handed alphabet in Auslan. It's the same as the British sign language alphabet. Some sign languages, such as the ones used in France, Ireland and America, for example only use one hand.

You can look up other signs at the Auslan Sign Bank, which is essentially an online dictionary.

Most people want to know why I am learning Auslan. For me it's not because I need to communicate with any people I know who already use the language as is the case for some of my classmates. I'm doing it because I think it's a beautiful language that for some reason it makes my soul happy. Maybe one day in the future I will have a professional use for it, but for now I'm happy just learning.