Just five things from around the Internet that have been making me think covetous thoughts this week. Have a fantastic weekend!

1. The beautiful bowls

Painted wooden bowls, plates and other homewares from Nicole Porter Design

2. The chrysanthemum clutch

This handmade chrysanthemum silk lined aqua floral clutch from BagNoir in Ireland

3. The gorgeous girls’ clothes

When Madeleine is big enough I can’t wait to dress her in outfits from Latvian clothing line Aristocrat Kids

4. The ‘dorable doormat

See what I did there, with the alliteration? Also, why has nobody invented a 3D doormat before now?

5. The nifty notebook

Are you a person who carries a notebook everywhere for those times when inspiration strikes? Me too. This Dodo iPhone case is also a notebook. ‘Nough said!

Have you been following astronaut Commander Chris Hadfield’s poetic tweets from space? Somehow, he made “out there” feel so much closer to “in here.” As though we were all part of the same universe, and all connected. Which of course we are.

While I have been going about my closed little life: working, walking, writing, loving my baby; Commander Hadfield has been floating above and feeling connected to me and my seven billion Earth neighbours in a way that I can barely understand.

These are some of the photographs he has been sending home from his time on the International Space Station, and his accompanying thoughts.

“Tonight’s Finale: The Moon rising over a bed of cloud. A constant reminder to us all of what can be achieved.”

“Clouds swoop in on Crimea, a white bird on the Black Sea.”

“Hamburg, famed port city in northern Germany, on what must have been a lovely day to take a stroll down the Elbe.”

“Canada rocks.” (Did I mention Commander Hadfield is Canadian?)

“Spaceships glowing blue in the dawn as we leave Florida headed across the Atlantic.”

Commander Hadfield is due home today. He tweeted a few hours ago “Hard to express all of my emotions, but mostly gratitude. I came here on behalf of so many people – thank you.” It’s an extraordinary world we live in, wouldn’t you agree?

ps. If you’ve somehow managed to miss the media storm, here is the fantastic remake of David Bowie’s Space Oddity that Commander Hadfield recorded from on board the International Space Station. I would find it super-poignant, except that moustache gives me the giggles and that brings me down to earth. So to speak.

“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.” ~ Phyllis Theroux

Last night Mr B came home from work with a pile of “googly eyes” board-books for Madeleine, and this one for me. Did you know that the British Air Force kept more than 20,000 pigeons to carry intelligence during the first World War? Or that Hammurabi the King of Babylon invented one of the earliest postal systems (almost 4000 years ago)? Or how to make scented ink? I do, now. I am going to sparkle at dinner parties.

What are you reading right now?

On the banks of the Merri Creek in East Brunswick, Melbourne, is the prettiest, sweetest-smelling city dump you will ever find. What was once four-and-a-half hectares of landfill has been converted, metre by metre, into an oasis of green, sustainable paradise.

It’s called the Centre for Education and Research in Environmental Strategies, or CERES, which is a handy acronym since Ceres was the ancient Roman goddess of agriculture. (How long do you think it took them to make that one work?)

I took my ever-so-green parents to CERES while they were visiting last week, for a stop-off at the organic market, a wander through the nursery and shop, a peek at the farm, and a leisurely lunch at the outdoor cafe while listening to live music.

Behind us, children slid joyfully down a dirt slope on their backsides, landing almost under our cafe table with squeals of laughter (and a few anxious “Mummy I’m stuck!” pleas from the smaller children, half-way down the hill).

Other littles watched the free-range chickens with delight, and bus-loads of school-children could be seen at one workshop or another as we explored the grounds after lunch. Glancing around the market and cafe, I don’t think I’d ever seen so many string bags and braids in one place (and I used to live in Glebe, people).

Later Mum and I (and a sleeping Madeleine) strolled over to an old red train-carriage that had since been converted into an intriguing gallery space.

There was an exhibition inside the train carriage called Forest by artist Stefanie Robinson. The name is kind of (and I imagine intentionally) ironic, since the exhibition comprised mostly paper. Long, narrow strips of paper falling from the ceiling almost to the floor, through which you had to wander to see. From a vine twisting along the ceiling, woven nests of blue and brown also hung among the paper forest, and such was the installation and the space that you never could step back and get a view of the whole thing. Like a real forest, you could only really see it and appreciate it from inside.

Reading about this exhibition later, I learned that Stefanie had made the hanging nests from objects found in the landscape after natural disasters, such as Japan after the Tsunami, and country Victoria after the bushfires.

I went in alone and it was beautifully quiet, just the rustling of the paper and the sound of my footsteps, which I instinctively tried to soften. I don’t know why.

Also like a real forest, this exhibition was intended to evolve and grow over time. I wish it had lasted longer because I’d have loved you to be able to see it, too. I contacted Stefanie later that afternoon to ask if I could include some photos I took from inside her dreamlike forest on my blog, and she kindly said yes.

Yes, it’s this theme again. I JUST CAN’T HELP MYSELF. The other day I walked past the house we own but don’t live in FIVE TIMES while walking Madeleine, just dreaming about what I’d do if I lived in there. If the tenant was home, she was probably on the verge of calling the police. This living-in-limbo thing is driving me c r a z y.

I am still dreaming about moving into my own home. About a place where I can Madeleine-proof the shelves and stairs and television without the use of gaffa tape (yes, gaffa tape! I’m desperate in this here rental!). A place where I can hang paintings on the wall, create as much storage as we need, and make it beautiful.

These are five lovely rooms I’d like in my house.

1. The bookish bedroom

If I slept in this room, I would have the most amazing adventures in my dreams! (Via English Muse)

2. The leafy living-room

What an oasis of calm! Just add hot chocolate and a rug made of granny-squares, and I’d never leave. (Via Old Brand New)

3. The white, bright kitchen

This makes me think of freshly-squeezed orange juice, warm croissants and a big bowl of strawberries. (Via I like that blog)

4. The playroom nursery

I love how these parents gave up their master bedroom to the kids, so that they could use it to play as well as sleep. Also, where can I get a low little set of bookshelves like these for Madeleine? (Via Oh Happy Day)

5. The cat’s room

This cat tipi? I can’t even. (Via Eat Drink Chic)

Ingredients:

* A crisp, sunshiney autumn day
* Devonshire Tea
* One 10-month-old baby
* About 30 cooing, adoring grown-ups
* A ride in an open-sided jeep with orange chairs
* The animals of the savannah, roaming free

Toss in a gentle stroll through forests and along river-banks, to taste

Method:

Mix well and serve liberally.

Yields: 18 baby belly-laughs, 10 squeals of delight, six episodes of over-excited bouncing, and five chances to hold hands with your beloved.

For added flavour, when baby is exhausted from all the excitement and starts sucking her fingers and looking rather concerned, strap her into the carrier where she will snuggle like a meerkat and fall asleep on your chest, gently snoring into your neck just like she did when she was tiny. Kiss her forehead.

Yields: pure bliss.

(ps. We were at Werribee Zoo)

This is such a simple way to make someone’s day. Who else is going to start carrying post-it notes with them everywhere?

I think my last post may have been a tad negative. I should add that there have been plenty more things we have been doing, besides working, walking and not sleeping, that have made life rather lovely. Like…

* Dancing crazily around the living room: me, Mr B, Madeleine, Emily and Oliver the dog; to Hello by Martin Solveig and Dragonette (because who can NOT dance when this song comes on? And also, do you remember the hilarious tennis video with Bob Sinclar? Oh Martin, I love your pasty white legs, they put mine to shame!)

* Giving Madeleine her first taste of mac ‘n cheese, and seeing her declare (in baby language) this dish God’s Gift to baby bellies.

* Ripening olives in the tree in our courtyard.

* A visit from my Mum and Dad, at the end of a train holiday they took to the middle of Australia and back. As usual I think we wore them out. We tried to go out one night while Mum and Dad babysat, the first time since Madeleine was born (!), but my little baby woke up and cried so much we had to cut the dinner short. Every time we see Mum and Dad I think my little family adds about 10 years to their lives (not that you look it, Mum!). But it is still wonderful to see them.

* A reunion picnic for Mr B in Carlton Gardens, with all the friends he lived with on campus in his uni days. I have never seen him laugh so loud for so long (and Mr B likes to laugh a LOT). There were some really, really bad photos, complete with incriminating hair and cross-dressing. There were stories that even I hadn’t heard before. And there was a ‘time capsule’ they’d made in the 90s, which had remained sealed and in the bottom of a box in our house up until last weekend. Sadly the hilarious contents, mostly written late at night and after a few too many drinks, are not to be shared on this PG blog!

* We took a trip to the Werribee Open Range Zoo with a bunch of old folks from Mr B’s work. This was so much fun, and I do promise to blog about it soon.

* Playing UNO on cold nights, with the heater on and a cup of tea in the other hand.

* Instagramming my little heart out while walking Madeleine through our town.

* Madeleine graduating from the commando crawl to a proper, turbo-speed hands-and-knees technique; Madeleine climbing up on everything and thinking she is ALL THAT every time she stands up. Madeleine identifying her foot, and presenting it proudly at the dinner table every time I ask “Where’s your foot?” (as if I didn’t know, honestly child). Madeleine initiating peek-a-boo games all by herself. Madeleine learning to throw the tennis ball for Oliver. Madeleine laughing whenever we laugh, even though she doesn’t get the joke. Madeleine making “tsk tsk” noises, replicating the sound of licking fingers, whenever she sees me with food. It is baby-language for “I’ll have some of that!” Madeleine’s face lighting up every time she sees me, even if it’s just waking up from a nap. Madeleine, Madeleine, Madeleine…

ps. Photos are recent instagrams from around Melbourne. Who else is SO HAPPY that autumn is here?

Sweet dreams are what I’m longing for. Honestly, I’d even settle for bland dreams, perhaps even bad dreams, if they meant I’d get some sleep.

I love my precious cherub. I love her even when she wakes me up only an hour after I get to bed, because she is hungry. And again at 1am because she wants a cuddle, an hour and a half later because she’s hungry again, and at 4am because she wants to play. And I love her even through all the tears and screams and back-arching-thrashing that follow “No darling, it’s sleepy-time not play-time,” which last for TWO HOURS, causing Mr B and me to spend the rest of the morning feeling nauseous from exhaustion and trying not to be unreasonably snippy with each other.

By day, Madeleine will only sleep in her pram. Not the cot, not the car, not anywhere but the pram. And she won’t be fooled by a gentle rocking back and forth, it has to be full-on forward motion for Her Majesty. So I pound the pavement, for at least four hours a day, every single day. I have blisters on my blisters, on my heels and on the balls of my feet and even on the top of my toes, and I barely even feel them any more. The heels of my ankle boots have worn thin. You’d think I’d be super-svelte by now, wouldn’t you, with all that exercise? Unfortunately my long walks all-too-often take me past a really great cupcake place, so I suspect we are calorie-neutral.

In between walking and being awake in the middle of the night, I am working a lot. I’m up to my bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyeballs in unmet deadlines.

The point of this rather self-indulgent rant is to say “Hello! I miss you guys!” I miss blogging. I miss reading your blogs. I miss my creative projects and taking photographs and drawing pictures and thinking up stories and writing them down. When you are time-poor and sleep-deprived, creativity is so often the first thing to go. Who has the energy to create when you are putting everything you have into just surviving? And as a writer, my job is to create, so any residual creative energy has to go there (my clients are paying me, my blog isn’t).

But I’m really going to try. I’m well aware that my complaint could come from the mouths of thousands of mothers the world over. So I just have to suck it up and BUILD the energy to do a little bit for me. Because giving myself time out is the best thing I can do for me AND my family. Which is why I am here, telling you all about this. And why I will try, TRY to take more photos and tell more stories and read more blogs be present in this little space again. How are you guys going?

Photo by Jochen Spalding from here.

“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” – Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

This photo shoot makes me feel like Anna Karenina has just stepped into our time. I am picturing snow, and Grand Tours, and lonely wealth, and art and love and lust and disgrace, and each unhappy family unique from all the others.

It’s been many years since I read Anna Karenina. It’s one of those sweeping books, I think. It swept me along, miserable in the inevitability of Anna’s decline, and yet compelled to keep on reading. It was also grand and vast and old and beautiful.

It might almost be time for me to read it again. Almost. I think I need a few good nights’ sleep before I tackle that particular emotional journey.

Meanwhile these dresses, aren’t they glorious in all their old-world rewritten charm? They are from here and I don’t even know what I’m looking at or what I’m (not) reading, but I couldn’t resist sharing because they are so beautiful. Bring back bustles!

“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.” – Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina