P*le P*arty

So, what did you do last night? Watch a bit of telly? Knit something? Clean out your pantry?

Ha, well those of us Over 18 in the EasternMax family travelled over The Bridge to the annual Bobbi's P*le Studio Christmas Party in The Cross. As you do.

My Pilates instructor, a former soloist with an international ballet company, P*le Dances as a hobby. She's really quite good at it. She auditioned for So You Think You Can Dance in this dance style to resounding success only to be knocked out in the Jazz section. Rumour is she'll try out for Miss P*ledance Australia next year.

I must admit to feeling a little apprehensive about going to this event, as were my other female friends who were going. Us little Doris Days in a world of, well, NOT Doris Days. Our husbands, however, felt no such apprehension.

BUT it was A*M*A*Z*I*N*G. The girls were extraordinarily athletic. P*le Dancing at this level is saucy but not sleazy - a gymnastic show which would compare to the skills in aerial silk dancing (just with towering stilettos and fewer clothes).

A really cool night out for us LNSMs**.

* trying to avoid odd Google searches...
** Lower North Shore Mums

Edited to say: Mid-way through the performance we stepped out to grab a drink at a nearby bar before going back for the finale. We stepped into a great little spot called Apperitif on Kellet St. Domestic Goddess - guess who we saw there? Your brother-in-law.

A reminder that I need to tidy my pantry

No, this is not my pantry. Nor is this a Tupperware catalogue shot.

This pantry belongs to Domestic Goddess. This is not a photo taken after it has been tidied; this is what it looks like ALL THE TIME. In fact this photo was probably taken just after her three kids had marauded through the kitchen looking for after school snacks.

Sigh.

So, DG when are you next coming to Sydney? My pantry misses you.

Playing with Shine

Stretchy, oh so light and soft scarf knitted with 10mm needles in alternating rows of Drifters Mohair and Lisa Harding Sari Ribbon.

More mohair and shiny threads to sew together. This time with 15mm needles for a wide, gaping look. I'm thinking wraps here - one in silvery grey, one in black.

Out of the mouths of babes

When I was a little girl I would delight in telling the old biddies* around my small country town that mum and dad were married three days after I was born. In those days this would cause a few raised eyebrows.

Except that Mum and Dad were married on November 27th, 1965. I was born on November 24th, 1967.

Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad!

*Biddy (noun) Colloquial an old woman [Irish English pet-form of the name Bridget] from Macquarie Dictionary

Fairlie did warn me...

... that once I knew about the Frangipani craze that I'd start seeing them everywhere.

Like, in a Leura car park

and on the M4.

Luckily, no more sightings on Volvos.