kids stuff

one persons junk is another persons treasure (chest)

I wasn’t alone as I wandered the fields of joy (sing it to us Lenny) looking at other peoples cast offs this weekend.  Not by a long shot.

But I suspect that few others were looking for the same things as me.

With hard rubbish it is definitely true that you find what you look for.

This year proves it.  I give you Exhibit A – my new treasure chest.


I suspect that not one of the men or women loading things into utes and trailers (or walking along balancing their milk and bread precariously on a rolled up shaggy cream rug slung over their shoulder) were out there looking for a treasure chest.

Just me.  

Because … We found one a few years ago on the side of the road (well actually Clive and the girls did) and it was so great, but we didn’t need it so we gave to Merryn.  She uses it for mat time every day at kinder.  She says that everything is fun when it comes from a pirate treasure chest …

And … Now that I am organising some stories and activities for playgroup at ACC I have been thinking about how handy my own treasure chest would be.

So … That’s why I was looking for a treasure chest … 

And I found the PERFECT one – timber and lined with velvet.  Big enough to fit a book and a few other bits and bobs.  Not so big that I can’t carry it around.  Lovely. I spent the day doing a bit of a touch up to the woodwork with the ever handy Black Japan.  And gave the velvet interior a clean.

Hard rubbish.  I ❤️ U.

when work is fun …


Yesterday at work I kept myself amused and used some nasturtium leaves as lily pads for the plastic frogs and play dough …

foosball

Remember last year I went to Daylesford and bought Charley the most excellent coat?  

This year I went and ran in to our vet in the bookshop.  Who apologised for not recognising Charley (she was waiting/barking insanely out the front).

I really don’t feel that way about my dog, not at all, so I didn’t mind one little bit.  Imagine the pressure on a vet, having to remember dog owners.  And what their particular dogs look like.  And on holidays.  And in Daylesford where there were SO MANY dogs.

Walking down the main drag on Saturday morning was like being at a dog festival … (well what I imagine a dog festival would be like ‘cos I’ve never actually been to one).

Which is all completely unrelated to foosball.

Which is what we bought in Daylesford. 

Clive and the girls spotted one of those foosball tables at the Daylesford Sunday market.  ONLY $20.  Some bloke whose wife told him it had to go was reluctantly selling it.  So we got it …

I was thinking it could live out in the garage (on Clive’s side).  

  
The reality?  It is in the middle of the girls room.  But they’re loving it!  And actually, I quite like foosball myself …