Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Beautiful Gifts, Cuddles and Corn

My poor mum is not well, these are some pictures I know will make her smile. 
Wishing I could hop on a plane and give her a cuddle.

 Like a little Alice falling into Wonderland
A beautiful dress smocked by my Auntie Dossie who is even sweeter than the frock. This arrived in the post late last year. Finally the little one wanted to wear it! She is a force to be reckoned with, and no cajoling will make her wear anything other than that which she desires.  This is proving quite tedious as the weather cools, she has a real aversion to jumpers and jeans. Fortunately we hadn't missed the boat, the dress fits perfectly!


How to know your corn is ripe - the silks are brown and dried out, the cob feels fat, apparently the kernels run clear if you prick them with a needle - but whose really doing that?  I also find the flower heads of the ripe corn look quite grey and dying which helps me to choose which ones to inspect. 
 The remains of the last corn peeling fiesta. I have to keep her from picking the cobs before they ripen.
 Little one couldn't resist a nibble before we brought the corn in. Nor could I - so sweet and juicy.

Used the corn to make Asian corn soup - delicious!
Sweetcorn Soup

This elephant costume arrived over our fence from a kindly neighbour whose boy had grown out of it.  The little Bowerbird was delighted and immediately donned it for an Autumn Equinox BBQ - not entirely practical (not so great near fire) but the gumboots (also gifted by a friend) helped.  I love the way children's clothes make their way around the neighbourhood - it's so good to see things used again and we need to buy very few clothes for our children. 


  1. She's so cute, that little one of yours. I hope your mum is feeling better soon.

    I don't think we'll have corn this year.. we are still waiting for the cobs to fatten up. One can always hope though!

  2. You were right. It did make me laugh. Little one looks so cute in that dress. Like an angel. Xx

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In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Margaret Atwood

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young