Little luxuries

There’s a lovely thread on the Vogue forums about little luxuries – not the yacht/quail’s egg gems/golden toilet kind, but the small things that give you a little wave of warmth every day.

A few of my little luxuries are temporarily denied to me – a glass of Yalumba Y Series Pinot Grigio in a crystal wine glass, a cold G&T prepared for me at the end of a trying day, a weekend afternoon beer, and a daily latte (I was allowing myself one a day until suddenly The Bunny decided that coffee was not mama’s friend. I became involuntarily caffeine-free and have just begun to re-introduce it, to minor heart palpitations and noticeable bursts of nervous energy). My goodness, all my denied items are liquid and addictive.

But many luxuries remain – here are my special moments.

1. Glasshouse Candles. I was never a candle fan until I was given a Glasshouse candle as a birthday gift, and so began an obsession. The Glasshouse range is deliciously scented and come in gorgeous (and reusable! Thrifty!) glass jars. I have a number of them that I also use as little motifs in vignettes around the house (that sounded ridiculous, didn’t it?). Each fragrance is named after a destination, making it hard sometimes to tell if you want the scent or the idea of the holiday! They make beautiful gifts too.

Glasshouse ‘Leura’.

 My favourites are Marseille (gardenia), Caracas (frangipani), Leura (jasmine blossoms), Galapagos (kaffir lime and coconut butter), Esperance (mimosa and wild apple), Tahaa (vanilla caramel), Skye (wild honeysuckle) and Manhattan (little black dress). Hmmm, that’s actually almost half the range. I’m very tempted to try the new fragrance Sassafras (blackberry and tea rose) too.

Glasshouse’s new fragrance ‘Sassafras’. So sweet!

　

2. Good sheets. I was a late-comer to the joy of 1000 thread count sheets. I haven’t quite made it to the Moss River stage of manchester obsession, but it can’t be long. Good sheets make slipping into bed a whole-body moment of ‘ahhhh’. They keep you warm without sweating, and cool without shivering. I have had good luck with the Mercer & Reid range (the stripe sateen – make smaking the bed much easier when you have vertical striped to follow)! and Adairs often has sheet sets at 50% off.

3. Good towels. Growing up, towels were a major point of conflict with my mum. She is of the make-do and mend mindset, while I am of the ‘if I remember towels from my childhood that you are still using and I am almost 32, you should buy new ones’ mindset. One of the first things I did when moving out was to buy bath sheets – not towels – and as that starter-set wore thin, I replaced them with the Sheridan Trenton range. This isn’t the best of their range, but I am sucker for a big fluffy towel and these ones do the trick. I have to admit I’ve spoiled the pristine look of more than I’d like of them with benzoyl peroxide, but for skinfeel they are still going strong.

Sheridan Trenton. Perfect for being enveloped post-steaming hot shower.

 

4. A good bed. Once upon a time there was a princess who lived alone in her castle with only one puppy and two kittens for company. Her double-sized bed was sufficient for the four of them, but alas her mattress was the cheapest she could find on her return from foreign lands many years before, when the lifestyle and income of a student obliged her to be as thrifty as a churchmouse. One day the princess was joined by a charming prince, and suddenly the double bed was just too small, and just too hard, and the charming prince even preferred his terrible futon to the princess’ bed. And she couldn’t blame him.

And the princess chose to upgrade not just to a queen size, but a king size, so she would never have to regret not going bigger (although she now wonders what a Super King would be like). The princess also chose a latex mattress and the moment that she first lay down on it, she fell in love. In fact, when the prince and princess were looking at buying their next castle, some castles were rejected solely on the basis that the master bedroom was too small to accommodate the king sized bed, and they had vowed to never give it up, no where, no how, no way.

And when the prince and princess were joined by another puppy, and then by a little baby, they were very glad that they had a big comfortable bed for everyone.

And they all slept happily ever after. The End.

(I got my mattress from here and it was about half the price of what I was quoted at a chain store, and it is truly wonderful)

 

5. Homewares. I take great joy in a series of lovely photo frames and homewares. I just do.

Favourite frames are:

Vera Wang for Wedgwood ‘Chime’. Love the grosgrain edging.

Vera Wang for Wedgwood ‘Chime’ set of three in different sizes – I have my favourite wedding photos in these. I bought one, my bridesmaids gave me another, and my sister presented me with the final of the set on my wedding night, just from her.

Waterford ‘Kilbarry’.

I have most of my photos in various sizes of Waterford ‘ Kilbarry’, They are simple, classic but modern, elegant. Sadly I can’t find them on the Peter’s of Kensington site any more, which is a shame because they were most reasonably priced.

Royal Doulton ‘Radiance’. Also useful as an ad hoc weapon.

Royal Doulton Radiance bevelled frame – nothing like some sharply edged crystal. Not to be dropped on naked toes.

Favourite items are both wedding gifts from very dear people, so it’s not just the beauty and generosity of the gift but knowing the truly special people who gave it to us that makes me all warm and happy whenever I see them:

Georg Jensen polished steel pitcher.

 

Georg Jensen ‘Cobra’ candlesticks. Sinuous.

But … have you seen this. Pure silver. The form, the fluidity … the price!!!!! Just $54,000 will have this beauty on your buffet.

Georg Jensen Koppel Collection silver pitcher.

　

6. Sweet indulgences.Koko Black dark choc with coco nibs and caramelised hazelnuts. Don’t think this one needs any more explanation.

 

Koko Black. Don’t search google but forget the second ‘o’ like I did. Especially not at work.

 

(This one has no caramelised hazelnuts. I highly recommend them).

I am more of a sweet-tooth while pregnant than ever before, and I take great and over-proportionate pleasure in a nightly one of these:

Ping

Today is not a glamorous day.

I woke up feeling like another three hours sleep would barely scratch the surface.

After yesterday’s first ever pregnancy spew, I was uncertain if that marked the beginning of a new era of morning sickness. I resolved to be at work by the time that yesterday’s ‘incident’ occurred so I would be close to a porcelain bus. Suffice it to say, at 9:15 I was stuck on a train. No repeat occurred, but only after I gave my stomach a stern talking to.

I am still a mucus machine. I have been sick for most of April and May. No amount of lipbalm can make these smackers look anything but Sahara-like.

It has dawned on me that much as I like the maternity tops I bought, they are pretty much what I’ll be wearing for the next 25 weeks. It’s getting old fast.

I have a list of things I’d love to do at home tonight – cleaning, baking, blogging, walking – but I know I’ll be too knackered to do anything but watch terrible TV and make beans on toast for dinner, and go to bed exhausted and unfulfilled.

I would like to go shopping but have to remind myself that the Boori tall boy for the nursery, bathroom fittings and deposit on the bathroom renovation actually count as shopping and therefore a trip through the soothing DJs homewares or childrenswear departments would be fruitless as my guilt would prevent me buying anything, thereby increasing my grouchiness.

Luckily I have my massage/physio session to look forward to tomorrow. That woman finds the most painfully satisfying trigger points possible. I love her.

And of course I had a lovely moment on Monday when I spotted a book in a children’s bookshop that I had a child, and I pounced on it. I must write a post on beloved children’s books and how I intend to stock the Bunny’s bookshelves with all of my most-loved.

 

The Story About Ping. La-la-la-la-lei!

Wishlist

There’s a few things floating around in my wishlist at the moment. In no particular order:

1) Garden

Our garden is optimistically named. Accurately, it’s a mudpatch. With a car parked on the front patch of mud bogan-style (don’t worry, we have a landscaping quote). I love beautiful gardens but hate gardening, so it appears that something acceptable is a long way  (or a professional gardener) away).

One of my favourite memories is a day spent on Capri some years ago – the sun shone but didn’t burn and we hiked to Anacapri while the scent of gardens and lemons carried up upwards to views that stopped the heart. We stopped for lemon-lime granitas on the way down, and paddled in the warm sea.

I know I’ll never live that day again, but the climbing plants and sweet scents stayed with me. I want a tropical garden (as much as the climes of Melbourne will sensibly allow), and bought this book as inspiration:

My favourite swoony garden book.

Hours were spent poring over the pages (hours spent actually in the garden starting work to create anything: nil).

My garden will (it will!) have bougainvillea tumbling over the fence, cocos palms, bromeliads, wisteria, jasmine, agapanthus and honeysuckle.

Tumbling bougainvillea.

The view I really want …

2) Dinnerware

I love a beautifully set table, but haven’t yet begun collecting a ‘good’ set of dinnerware and silverware.

Current dinner sets in contention include:

Royal Doulton Signature Blue: 

Royal Doulton Signature Blue

Jasper Conran for Wedgwood Pinstripe:

Jasper Conran Pinstripe

Jasper Conran for Wedgwood Navy Fringe:

Jasper Conran Navy Fringe

I think the Pinstripe and Navy Fringe would work beautifully together, but my concern with all of these sets (perhaps less with the Royal Doulton) is that they are a bit ‘current’ and would cease to be produced. If I spend years and years and $ and $ collecting a ‘good’ set that I want to leave to my granddaughters, will they be able to pop out and get a replacement tea cup when one of their guests inevitably drops one after a few too many wines? And if it’s the type of set that isn’t allowed to be used when drinking is likely because it’s ‘too good’, then I’m not interested. Beautiful things should be used. I once saw an episode of Clean House where a woman had a full set of Limoge dinnerware (and silverware!) that had never been used. Sacre bleu!

Perhaps I’d be better going for something classic and unlikely to be discontinued like this Royal Doulton Signature Platinum set:

Royal Doulton Signature Platinum

Silverware seems a real luxury. I feel like it should be a traditional design but haven’t really got any idea about what I’d like. Maybe it would be best to plunder a deceased estate sale for something appropriately aged.

3) Sparklies

I have little to say on this at this point, but I have in my mind’s eye something beautiful, sparkly and sentimental. I was pleasantly surprised to see that a blogger whose style I admire recently gathered a similar thing, but ever-so-slightly different to how I would do mine. Plans are afoot.

4) Bookshelves

In our last house my pride and joy was this set-up:

Shelves. Ahhhh! (Heavens knows why the real estate agent took photos of white cords hanging over the back of the couch though).

My bookshelves. I traipsed to every Ikea that was then open in Victoria to get each and every component. I lovingly edited, collated, cross-referenced and styled each shelf. It contained my treasures, both physical and literary.

In this house we’ve got less space now than we did before (even though before was a flat and now is a house!), and so far have not installed the bookshelves that we so desperately need in the living room. Not all of my treasures can live in the open in the new house, but I long to take my favourites and bring them out into our living space.

I haven’t, however, been able to steel myself for a trip to Ikea. When we do however:

Billy, oh Billy.

Billy is the classic bookshelf.

I could even hack it:

5) Forrester

My car is great. Zippy, reliable, comfortable and safe. But I crave a bit more space – or maybe it’s the soccer mom coming out. I want this:

Subaru Forrester

Or even better, this:

Volkswagen Touareg

6) Soft furnishings

On a more attainable note, I love these  ’50s chic cushions from escapetoparadise.com.au and think they’d look great with our plantation shutters. I’d also get some of the laminated cushions to go with the Adirondack chairs that *will* be mine.

Lifestyle cushion with palm trees

Oasis cushion in ohana fabric

Oasis cushion with palm trees in black

Sanctuary cushion with aloe palms

I know that I don’t have to add anything saccharin like “My wishlist includes a healthy baby, lots of love, and peace on earth”.

My bootscootin’ baby.

One of the biggest sartorial challenges for the style-conscious vegan is footwear, and in particular, boots. Once you eliminate leather, nubuck and suede, you also eliminate the best designs and quality. Alack and alas, I shall never own a pair of Hermes riding boots. I feel like I should hashtag this #firstworldproblems.

With winter upon us (and today’s weather is particularly vile), and The Bunny making me less and less inclined to wear heels as my centre of gravity tips ever forward, I wanted to find a pair of low-ish boots for wearing on weekends when my Converse feel too casual.

Searching out animal-friendly footwear often leads me to find myself in shoe shops that, if they were equivalent clothes shops, I would never enter. Imagine the Supre of shoes. Not really my demographic. However, I have had frequent successes with Betts. They have a big range, plenty of non-leather, and the sales are pretty darn generous too.

I have a couple of key requirements when it comes to boots. Firstly, the material must be ‘good’ – not that plasticy, shiny thin stuff. I don’t want to look like I’ve clingwrapped my calves. Secondly, I hate those plastic heels that are made to look like a proper stacked heel. I want a proper stacked heel of proper solid …well I don’t know what, but not plastic with pixelated prints on them!

I can’t find an exact picture of the boots I bought, but imagine these ‘Roustabouts‘ with a lower, more cowboy-y heel.

Love the side zips. Imagine with a 1.5 inch heel, and no seam over the vamp. These are Betts ‘Roustabout’.

They have zips on both sides, and are a lovely neutral nougat with a dark stacked heel. I bought the Berlin style. The lower heel will be great for running around in while the almond shaped toe saves them from being too masculine.

I also tried the ‘Magik‘ boot which has the same upper as the ‘Berlin’, but a much higher heel and elasticated sides. I liked them enormously and it was only the thought of my need to buy low, low, low shoes that persuaded me to get the Berlins instead. But I’m still thinking that they might just make their way in to the cupboard somehow …

Maybe?

I also liked the ‘Alamo‘. I am fond of a slouch top on an ankle boot because they are very forgiving when you have to tuck your jeans inside them, but I’d have to check that those heels aren’t cunningly crafted rubber.

Betts ‘Alamo’. Love the slouch.

Of course, there are some shoes that just aren’t me:

Betts ‘Nicola’.

Oh who am I kidding. They’re fabulous. Utterly utterly fabulous.

Extreme Makeover, Home Edition

Alongside all the other things we’ve been doing (work, growing a baby), we’ve been quietly plugging away at the work we needed to do on the house. We moved in not quite 8 weeks ago (which feels like forever), and had 4 weeks before that working evenings and weekends as well. We’re pretty chuffed with our efforts so far.

We were totes like this.

We have:

• Painted the front entrance cement surface and bought some pretty plants
• Sanded (three times) all the skirting boards, architraves and door frames – this involved sanding back five layers of paint that had never been sanded before
• Painted (mostly three times, but less where there is still work to do) the same
• Chiseled the paint (again five layers) off the steel window frames and painted them three times
• Replaced broken window panes, including puttying in new glass (this was meant to take thirty minutes with our friend, a glazier, and took three visits over a week)
• Touched up paint where said painting went outside the lines
• Painted the front door
• Replaced all the door handles and locks
• Installed downlights and new light fittings
• Sanded all the floors
• Replaced the kitchen benchtop
• Replaced the oven, cooktop and dishwasher
• Replaced the kitchen sink and tapware
• Moved the pantry
• Painted the kitchen doors and cabinets and replaced the knobs
• Re-tiled the kitchen splashbacks (still some siliconing and grout sealing to go, and we need to install a new window sill)
• Installed plantation shutters and Venetian blinds on ever window
• Painted the mantelpiece
• Built a walk-in wardrobe in the master bedroom
• Painted the inside of the only hall cupboard, which hadn’t been painted since its first and only ever coat
• Had a quote to landscape the front mudpatch – hopefully by the end of the year
• About to mount the dryer on the laundry wall
• Had two Ombudsman complaints about the gas supply … resolved after my terrier-like efforts

Not bad. I got far less done in my two weeks off than I planned, as most of it was spent on the couch with nausea and fatigue, but I’m still incredulous that a place that feels so much like home has actually been home for less than two months.

We’re also well underway in planning our bathroom reno, which makes me so happy I could cry. I’m not sure that the tenants before ever de-moulded it; it is so revolting that I wear thongs in the shower. Not tres chic.

We’ve found a lovely builder and have chosen these fittings:

This Felino vanity will be in reverse colours – white base with a dark stoney looking top. Can’t wait to have two basins!

Methven ‘Ovalo’ – love this range.

Shower/bath diverter.

Bath spout.

They’ll go with textured mocha floor tiles, white-ish wall tiles, and greeny glass feature tiles. We’re also installing a three doored mirrored medicine cabinet for desperately-needed space, and a half sized bath with the shower overhead. Not being bath people, but requiring a tub for small people and animals, we were very happy with the smaller one we had at our last house and went for the same this time. The floor tiles will continue through the laundry and toilet area (which is currently covered with a lovely set of green, white and black lino tiles) and a new toilet will be forthcoming if one can be found that will match our old plumbing.

After the bathroom project, the list is:

• Install bookshelves in the living room
• Waterproof garage
• Move boxes from spare rooms to garage
• Set up second bedroom/study
• Insulate roof
• Decorate nursery
• Install dog door that won’t let the cats out
• A bit of pottering in the garden. It’s currently bare and bogan, but is really the last of our priorities, especially in winter.

Can I do it all before the baby comes, in approximately 26 weeks?

You betcha.

Realistic ambitions.

Last night I was so proud of my householdy achievements. A burst of energy spurred me on.

I:

1. Helped cook dinner;
2. Unloaded a load of dried clothes from the dryer into the laundry basket;
3. Put on a wash of dirty clothes; and
4. Put that load in the dryer and turning it on.

I was thrilled.

Why yes, during pregnancy my goals have changed. I genuinely considered that to be a productive and satisfying evening’s work, even if I did hit the wall at 8pm.

Realism is the name of the game.

You Are My Sunshine

It’s been a long time coming … but there’s a reason.

This gorgeous set is en route to us. It’s from GusAndLola on etsy.com

Remember when I said:

“…planning our wedding and the five week overseas honeymoon thereafter, (returning) home, gotten a promotion and started work in a new area in which I have no content knowledge, continued studying, applied for a home loan with all the hair-tearing that goes with it and … bought a house! … Organising the financials and settlement, planning for a month-long renovation on the new house, organising tenants for our current flat, and organising the actual move … I believe this is called Gluttony (Punishment)”.

Clearly I am more than a glutton because to all this you may add:

“ … conceive, discover you are pregnant halfway through renovating house, move house at 6 weeks with nausea and exhaustion”.

Yes there’s a little organiser on the way – we are thrilled but I have to admit the first trimester has knocked me for six! I didn’t even have the hideous vomiting that many have, but I have been nauseous, dry retching, have had massive food aversions, and then knackered to boot. I really don’t know how mums with small kids keep everything going when they’ve got tiny monsters running around! I tips me lid to them – they are truly organisational gurus.

So what next for A Place For Everything? It’s still my baby but now not the one I’ll prioritise. I’ll keep plugging away and looking forward to the day when it is fully born and when I can lavish all the love and devotion on it that a newborn deserves. But it will be a long pregnancy and something that I’ll try to keep a hand in more than actually nurture and develop for a while. My commitment to organising, planning, and keeping things running will only be challenged and developed by the arrival of a screaming, puking, pooping, spewing bundle of loveliness! I’m sure I’ll have other things to keep me busy

How to juggle.

Ah, the to-doings in APFE-land!

Always one for a project, since spending September 2010 to August 2011 planning our wedding and the five week overseas honeymoon thereafter, I have returned home, gotten a promotion and started work in a new area in which I have no content knowledge, continued studying, applied for a home loan with all the hair-tearing that goes with it and … we bought a house!

So to add to my ongoing To Do list, I have been in the depths of organising the financials and settlement, planning for a month-long renovation on the new house, organising tenants for our current flat, and organising the actual move.

I believe this is called Gluttony (Punishment).

So how to get through all of this, whilst maintaining long and good quality hours at work? While I am lucky in that my daily work is often quite flexible and I can sometimes send emails or make phone calls, the work itself is very demanding and often fast-paced, meaning that any distractions are a serious problem. I just don’t have a lot of time to juggle.

I decided I needed to treat Operation Schloss Buzz like an actual project, and that meant project management. It was a bit of an organic process, as we asked for a 30 day settlement so had to get straight to work and didn’t necessarily think of everything we needed at once. At the outset, the timelines were:

28 January Buy house

29 February Settlement

31 March Move in

Eeep!

I’m not ashamed to admit that the night after we bought, I walked around the supermarket in a state of high tension (very unusual for me), while a kazillion thoughts of all the things we had to organise flashed in and out of my head as I tried to meditatively chant “bread, soy sauce, tomatoes and apples” over and over as though my shopping list was an oasis of organised calm.

The problem was there was nowhere for me to pour out my notes to self. In my head they are part of a swamp of half-formed ideas and forgotten lightbulb moments.

I needed to stop panicking, take a deep breath, and take care of business. And I needed to learn to juggle.

　

There are three ‘timezones’ to our plan. Breaking the time into chunks helped me identify what needed to be done and when, and then track backwards from there to work out what needed attention first.

So February was all about forward planning: what did we need done? Who did we need to do it? When could we get them in to quote? What could we buy in advance? What did we need to research? What could we book in? I busied myself asking for referrals, organising for on-site visits, and purchasing whatever we could to avoid last-minute Bunnings raids.

March is all about the work: we are knocking out some fixtures including an old wardrobe and pelmets; sanding and repainting all the internal trims (skirting boards, architraves and window frames); painting the kitchen cabinets; installing new window treatments throughout; installing a new sink, dishwasher, cooktop, oven and bench tops; possible re-tile the splashvacks if the tiles are broken in installing the new appliances (please God let this happen; I don’t know if I can bear to live with gumnut theme tiles); changing the lighting and putting in new light fittings; replacing locks and window winders; fixing some broken glass and poorly done window putty; getting a built-in wardrobe in our bedroom; and having the floors sanded and polished.

All of the March work has been organised in advance: tradies booked, equipment bought, timelines thought out. The real purpose of February was to make March happen.

I have two weeks off in April (no, I can’t believe it either) and in that time I will: unpack and organise the house; paint the external window frames; paint the outside concrete; plant the front garden; and set up veggie and herbs pots in the back garden. In the coming months we will gut the bathroom and renovate it, and re-tile the wet areas (they’re a lovely lino at the moment. Tres chic).These things are lower order priorities – they don’t need to be done before we move in, and so I have therefore devoted minimal headspace to them. When the critical things are done, I’ll allow myself to imagine by bougainvillea-covered fence and palm-tree filled garden with more love and attention, but until then, the internal works get all my lovin’.

　

So how to stay on track? How to project manage this while chained to a desk ten hours a day?

Lists.

This isn’t my professional advice. It’s just what’s been working for me.

I have a terrible memory. I panic when I recall something that I haven’t registered somewhere, because I know I’ll forget about it again. So lists it is.

I have two master lists for the house stuff at the moment: to do before we move in, and to do after we move in. I have itemised every thing we’re doing, and recorded dates and actions. For example:

1. Electric. Peter booked for 3 March, $1200. Light fittings bought and delivered to house. Remember to deliver him keys night before – pop in letterbox (diarised),

2. Delivery of appliances booked for 4 March. They will ring one hour before. Don’t forget need ID to sign for delivery.

3. Windows. Paid 1/3 of cost. James booked for 31 March. Call one week before to confirm (diarised).

… and so on.

Sophisticated? No. Suitable to me right now and what I can manage? Yep.

You could project manage this in many different ways, and I’m sure that there are far more information-rich and more complex ways of managing it. If I weren’t in the midst of a high-pressure time at work right now I could even probably manage to do something more fancypants myself. But right now what I can manage is to look at my lists quickly throughout the day, add to them easily when something pops into my head, and know that everything I need is on the one list. So that’s what I’m doing.

And that’s how you juggle.

 

Sidenote: does anyone else remember Morph? I used to love him, and I must have been about 3. I was thrilled to find this picture.

How to juggle.

Ah, the to-doings in APFE-land!

Always one for a project, since spending September 2010 to August 2011 planning our wedding and the five week overseas honeymoon thereafter, I have returned home, gotten a promotion and started work in a new area in which I have no content knowledge, continued studying, applied for a home loan with all the hair-tearing that goes with it and … we bought a house!

So to add to my ongoing To Do list, I have been in the depths of organising the financials and settlement, planning for a month-long renovation on the new house, organising tenants for our current flat, and organising the actual move.

I believe this is called Gluttony (Punishment).

So how to get through all of this, whilst maintaining long and good quality hours at work? While I am lucky in that my daily work is often quite flexible and I can sometimes send emails or make phone calls, the work itself is very demanding and often fast-paced, meaning that any distractions are a serious problem. I just don’t have a lot of time to juggle.

I decided I needed to treat Operation Schloss Buzz like an actual project, and that meant project management. It was a bit of an organic process, as we asked for a 30 day settlement so had to get straight to work and didn’t necessarily think of everything we needed at once. At the outset, the timelines were:

28 January Buy house

29 February Settlement

31 March Move in

Eeep!

I’m not ashamed to admit that the night after we bought, I walked around the supermarket in a state of high tension (very unusual for me), while a kazillion thoughts of all the things we had to organise flashed in and out of my head as I tried to meditatively chant “bread, soy sauce, tomatoes and apples” over and over as though my shopping list was an oasis of organised calm.

The problem was there was nowhere for me to pour out my notes to self. In my head they are part of a swamp of half-formed ideas and forgotten lightbulb moments.

I needed to stop panicking, take a deep breath, and take care of business. And I needed to learn to juggle.

　

There are three ‘timezones’ to our plan. Breaking the time into chunks helped me identify what needed to be done and when, and then track backwards from there to work out what needed attention first.

So February was all about forward planning: what did we need done? Who did we need to do it? When could we get them in to quote? What could we buy in advance? What did we need to research? What could we book in? I busied myself asking for referrals, organising for on-site visits, and purchasing whatever we could to avoid last-minute Bunnings raids.

March is all about the work: we are knocking out some fixtures including an old wardrobe and pelmets; sanding and repainting all the internal trims (skirting boards, architraves and window frames); painting the kitchen cabinets; installing new window treatments throughout; installing a new sink, dishwasher, cooktop, oven and bench tops; possible re-tile the splashvacks if the tiles are broken in installing the new appliances (please God let this happen; I don’t know if I can bear to live with gumnut theme tiles); changing the lighting and putting in new light fittings; replacing locks and window winders; fixing some broken glass and poorly done window putty; getting a built-in wardrobe in our bedroom; and having the floors sanded and polished.

All of the March work has been organised in advance: tradies booked, equipment bought, timelines thought out. The real purpose of February was to make March happen.

I have two weeks off in April (no, I can’t believe it either) and in that time I will: unpack and organise the house; paint the external window frames; paint the outside concrete; plant the front garden; and set up veggie and herbs pots in the back garden. In the coming months we will gut the bathroom and renovate it, and re-tile the wet areas (they’re a lovely lino at the moment. Tres chic).These things are lower order priorities – they don’t need to be done before we move in, and so I have therefore devoted minimal headspace to them. When the critical things are done, I’ll allow myself to imagine by bougainvillea-covered fence and palm-tree filled garden with more love and attention, but until then, the internal works get all my lovin’.

　

So how to stay on track? How to project manage this while chained to a desk ten hours a day?

Lists.

This isn’t my professional advice. It’s just what’s been working for me.

I have a terrible memory. I panic when I recall something that I haven’t registered somewhere, because I know I’ll forget about it again. So lists it is.

I have two master lists for the house stuff at the moment: to do before we move in, and to do after we move in. I have itemised every thing we’re doing, and recorded dates and actions. For example:

1. Electric. Peter booked for 3 March, $1200. Light fittings bought and delivered to house. Remember to deliver him keys night before – pop in letterbox (diarised),

2. Delivery of appliances booked for 4 March. They will ring one hour before. Don’t forget need ID to sign for delivery.

3. Windows. Paid 1/3 of cost. James booked for 31 March. Call one week before to confirm (diarised).

… and so on.

Sophisticated? No. Suitable to me right now and what I can manage? Yep.

You could project manage this in many different ways, and I’m sure that there are far more information-rich and more complex ways of managing it. If I weren’t in the midst of a high-pressure time at work right now I could even probably manage to do something more fancypants myself. But right now what I can manage is to look at my lists quickly throughout the day, add to them easily when something pops into my head, and know that everything I need is on the one list. So that’s what I’m doing.

And that’s how you juggle.

 

Sidenote: does anyone else remember Morph? I used to love him, and I must have been about 3. I was thrilled to find this picture.

How to pack

I’ve promised to ‘tell you about it shortly’ a number of times and about a number of things, and here for your delight and edification, working backwards on my promises, is the first. Yes, you can cross this promised gift off your wishlist!

Oh the poise!

Packing for a holiday is like packing for an alternate you. The divine Maggie Alderson has called this person Holiday Me – and you know who she is. She’s tall, long-limbed, sun-kissed and exists in a day that has only three times: clear mediation sunrise under a palm tree; warm orange sundown on a beach; and sparkling starry night on a yacht with champagne. Holiday Me has wavy hair that never whips in her eyes or gets greasy, being perfectly cleansed and styled by the waves; on the beach she strides out of the water glistening while sand brushes off her without sticking; she’s at least four times as rich as you are; she’s much better dressed; calories are worth one-tenth to her as they are to you; and she doesn’t even need an invitation to all the best parties at her holiday destination to know that she’s a VIP.

Francie Stevens (Grace Kelly) is the ultimate beach fashionista in To Catch a Thief.

Holiday Me also has a beautifully put together holiday wardrobe, which contains only clothes and accessories that are perfectly suited to her environment. A light wrap is sufficient to keep her warm at night, or Holiday Man lends her his tux jacket. It never rains unless she’s dancing in it, in which case it’s warm. She never minds walking all day because blisters don’t bother her slender feet, and all she needs to tour European cities is a small light handbag that rests gently over one bent arm. She has a small scarf tied at her throat, a lightweight kit thrown over her shoulders where it stays without slipping, and wearing pale colours – particularly camel and white – is of course the perfect choice because is it impossible for her to attract dirt or spill coffee.

Grace Kelly and Cary Grant in To Catch A Thief: Riviera chic.

Do you hate her? I do.

Francie Stevens with the ultimate holiday accessory - a convertible.

Maggie A has also pointed out that sometimes we become a sort of perverse, warped Holiday Me when we go away – your Holiday Me may suddenly become enamoured of sarongs, or tie-dye, or any other hideous item that is covered in dolphins and is sold in tourist shops. Your Holiday Me may suddenly strain to emulate the suave and smooth locals and start buying Ray-Bans, chinos, boat shoes and man-bags. Your Holiday Me may see the light and start investing in PolarFleece.

 

This is hideous. I don't care if I offend you. Don't let your Holiday Me buy this atrocity.

The real thing about Holiday Me – and you might love turtle covered beachwear or chambray shirts in real life, or you may in fact be a person who can confidently wear white jeans – is that Holiday Me is not Real Me. And Real Me needs to pack for Real Me.

 When you pack, you’re effectively reducing your range of clothing options while preparing for an expanded range of environmental conditions. Heat, rain and cold may not bother you so much when you’re cocooned in an office every day, but if you’re sightseeing you’ll be all the more in touch with Mother Nature. So how does an organised gal remain comfortable, stylish, appropriate and under 20kg per suitcase?

A little bit of colour-matching goes a long way.

Here’s what not to do: open your suitcase on your bed and throw in all your favourite clothes. You’ll wear them more, right? Nope. Although it’s true that you shouldn’t pack that thing at the back of the wardrobe that you bought three years ago and still has its tags on because Holiday Me will like it, just dumping a whole lotta stuff isn’t the solution either. 

If you lay it all out and it looks like this – too much!

You need A Plan.

 

The steps below aren’t about the nitty-gritty of packing. It’s a different post if we want to talk about The Great Fold vs Roll debate, or how to compartmentalise your case, but below is about the big-picture stuff: how to decide what to take, not just how to take it.

Oh so pretty!

Step 1: The Situation.

• Think about where you’re going and what time of year it will be. New York City in August will be significantly different from New York City in December. Do your research.
• Also think about what you’ll be doing – are you going to Europe to backpack and stay in hostels, or is this a bumper-luxe trip of a lifetime? Will you be going to any fancy events, or are you pretty sure that the pub will be as posh as it gets?
• How long will you be away? There’s no real rule of thumb (I think) about X days = Y pairs of Z item, but you don’t seriously need ten pairs of jeans for a two week trip. You will however need many more pairs of underpants than two. Come up with a rough list, eg: two pairs jeans (one everyday, one ‘good’); two T-shirts; two singlet tops; one jacket; one belt; one pair walking shoes; one pair flats; one pair thongs; one lightweight scarf.

Step 2: The Style.

• Think about the kinds of clothes you usually wear. I am, for example, a pants-wearer. Taking a skirt or dress would be pointless. If you’re a dedicated frock-er, work around that. A skirt-wearing friend of mine bought a highly expensive but very useful pair of superdooper tights to wear with her usual denim skirt in a European winter and she loved them.
• Bearing those things in mind, are there any colours or other themes that come through? For example, for our honeymoon I chose my two favourite colour combinations and chose separates around them (navy/white/red, and olive/neutrals). Don’t wear a rainbow. Choosing a colour scheme will help all your clothes be workhorses.
• Make sure your style is appropriate to the places you’re going and the things you’ll be doing. PolarFleece is not ok if you’re planning on meeting The Queen, but a pussy-bow blouse is ridiculous if you’re climbing Machu Picchu.

Step 3: The Selection

• Now think about the things you’ll actually wear. Favourites are good at this point, as are things that do double-duty, eg: a pair of sparkly flats that you could wear out to dinner as well as for a bit of wandering around would be more useful than a pair of ten-inch stilettos. Likewise, unless your plan is to hit the nightlife hard, think about a nice top that could be worn in the evening as well as the day, instead of a spangled sequinned backless top.
• Choose accessories. A belt, shoes, small jewellery, sunnies and scarves are good, light, non-bulky ways to change the look of a basic outfit.
• Now lay it all out. Will you wear it all? Will you feel good in it? Will you look good in it? Edit your selection. Holidays are not times to morph into Impossible Gorgeous Holiday Me, but there’s also no need to allow Ratty Scruffy Cargo Pants Holiday Me to drag you down.  
• Is any of it dry-clean only? Ditch it. Is any of it unwearable without an iron? Seriously consider ditching it unless you love to iron on holidays.

Step 4: The Stuff

• And by stuff, I mean fold nicely and pack in your bag. How much room is left? Does it fit perfectly? Yes? Then take it out and toss things – you haven’t even begun to pack your toiletries, electronics, and other sundries yet.
• Toiletries are really up to you and what you feel you need, but I take shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothpaste, toothbrush, hair straightener (or dryer – just remember to check voltage!), brush or comb, contact lens stuff, medication, tweezers, nail file, polish if you’re a polish wearer, moisturiser, face wash, makeup, and anything else that I use daily. This fits in a case about 20x10x10, but it’s quite heavy.
• Unless you’re actually backpacking, you need some space in your bag to take account for purchases, things you’ll pick up and carry about, and to make re-packing easier and less like a Rubik’s Cube. Wearables including shoes should take up about 50-60% of your space, other items about 20-30%, and the remaining space should be empty.
• Pick up your case/bag. Walk around with it. Be honest – what needs to go? If you can weigh it, do.

Step 5: The Sit

• Meaning: let it sit. If you have some time, allow yourself to re-think some decisions, and remember that you’ll recall a few forgotten items over the next few days (reading glasses? Only packed black bras and white shirts?).

Not how to do it!

That’s it – it seems long but a little planning will mean you will have everything you need, you’ll have confidence in the clothing choices you’ve made, you’ll not be randomly squishing strange items into your bag half an hour before you have to leave for the airport, and most importantly, you’ll always be comfortable and appropriate for the Real You.

An alternative of how not to do it.