Say hello to your friends...

I had a bit of a mental day off work today and accidently went op shopping. I had the guilts at first but I’m glad I did. A good op shop find always makes you feel like yourself again – especially the op shop around the corner from my house.

It’s a bit of a secret. It’s not a chain like vinnies or the salvos, it’s one of a kind and the ladies that volunteer there are lovely. They love a good bargain themselves and always go out of their way to show you the goodies that have just come in.

There’s one lady in particular I love. We’ve never swapped names and even though I only visit once in a while, she knows my story and asks about Owbags and how our wedding planning is coming along.

Today I found 30 Babysitters Club books. I took a big trip down memory lane when I saw them. Every word to the theme song found it's way out of the depths of my memory. "Say hello to your friends, Babysitters Club, say hello to the people who care, nothin's better than friends....."

I used to want so bad to have a babysitters club of my own, didn't you? What are your most treasured Babysitter's Club memories?

Organic Us

We spent a sun drenched day at Manly Primary School markets on Saturday. Business wasn’t booming like on Election Day, but I left with a good feeling on the inside when the long day was over. We covered our costs, bought yummy food, talked to some new people and also restrained ourselves from buying Alice McCall and One Teaspoon dresses with our takings. PLUS, we sold our favourite Michael Jackson inspired leather jacket.

The thing I love so much about the markets is that it gives you permission to chat to random people without any reason in particular. People will stop to look and start telling you about their daughter who is so tall, beautiful and wore a dress for the first time to her school formal. Most of the time on my daily journey to/from work, strangers go out of their way to avoid eye contact. Being at the markets gives anyone instant permission to engage in a convo with serious eye contact. And I just love it.

There is also feeling of camaraderie amongst market stall holders. On one side we have Rachel who designs and screen-prints her own t-shirts. She is always good for a chat and to give advice on her market experience. She is a talented artist as well. On the other side we have Jeannie and Chas*, an old couple who sell glassware that Chas has cut out of old vodka and cranberry juice bottles. They make me laugh. She bosses him around all day and they are forever re-arranging their stall to test what works best. Jeannie and also wears high waisted pants with a belt ala Annie Hall. I heart that look.

The most exciting part of the day (apart from the bit where the youngish gentleman took his jeans off in our stall to try on a pair of our skinny jeans) was when Owbags (thanks Manager) took over the stall whilst we hunted for lunch. We discovered Organicus kitchen and pantry. Newly opened and a beautiful breath of fresh food air. All organic produce displayed in a giant glass window, a giant blackboard behind the counter, a huge wooden table in the middle of the room, plants hanging from one wall. We ate fresh salmon, chorizo tart, lentil salad and quinoa that made my mouth water. It was fresh, so yummy and beautifully packaged in brown boxes and disposable wooden cutlery. It’s worth a trip to Manly just to try it out.


* I would love to hyperlink their name, but I so know they don’t have a blog. They are old fashioned. I can tell.

I'm on the pursuit of happiness

One thing I have been musing about lately is being H-A-P-P-Y. I found July and August this year to be really hard months. For a start it was a cold, rainy winter. But mainly I just felt really out of sorts. I would stand in front of my wardrobe and complain to boyfriend that I had nothing to wear (cue an avalanche of clothes piling on top of me). Boyfriend would cook me dinner every night and I would get home with stress face and give Manu the Dog the lamb chops he made. I stalked around the office like I had a vendetta against everyone in there. And I swear to you that I am a nice, normal person usually, both of my parents will tell you that.
It also didn’t help that I was still recovering from an ankle injury which meant that I hadn’t exercised properly since March. If that isn’t proof that exercise produces feel-good endorphins, I don’t what is.

But of course, it all becomes clear in retrospect.

I was letting everything weigh me down. I wasn’t focusing on the positive. I was dwelling on all of the negative, insignificant parts of my life and then the good wasn’t shining through.

Leafie + Lize recently had a sleepover at the home of the lovely Grandma Shirley before our Manly markets day in August. She is cool. She sat with us on the floor in her lounge room and gave us some vintage clothes to sell at our stall. She also inferred in a very polite way that I may have an addiction to stationary. You see, she’s wise too. This is what was on her fridge. LIVE IT.

I believe you liar

We went to see Megan Washington last night, the spunky little minx she is.

It’s always inspiring to see people in their element doing what it is they were born to do. Washington is one of those people. She has raw musical talent and was put on the planet to perform.

She is self-assured; comfortable in her own skin and after her rendition of The Divinyls’s I touch myself she completely won the crowd. The boys wanted her and the girls wanted to be her.

leafie + lize are official Washington groupies. Check out our pics.

30 Days Has September

For those of you who haven’t yet been introduced to Christiaan Van Vuuren or The Fully Sick Rapper, consider yourselves introduced.



After being diagnosed with Tuberculosis upon his return from backpacking the world, The Fully Sick Rapper was put into quarantine in a single room in hospital and a series of these You Tube videos is the result.

leafie + lize are secretly in love with him. Don’t tell anyone.

Which is why our Tuesday arvo was brightened when we both happened to be listening to triple j and tuned in to The Dr ‘s interview with the rapper himself.

Not only is he funny he also has a really optimistic and frivolous outlook on life hence the reason we love him and why we weren’t surprised when he started telling us about 30 Days Has September.

30 Days is a campaign and charitable initiative ‘To inspire, benefit and grow individuals and communities by driving a shift in perception to the day ahead and what can be made of it.’

The aim is to do something you haven’t done or wouldn’t usually do for each day of September. leafie + lize are starting by giving blood.

So check out the website and get inspired.

www.30dayshasseptember.com.

Be sure to download the list of things to do too.

We thought we’d share a little bit of inspiration with you to start off the week. A little bit of inspiration never hurt anyone on a Monday.

leafie and lize have been a fan of when-pigs-have-wings or ‘the pig blog’ as we fondly call it, for some time now.

It’s always lovely to browse and on the odd occasion, the little quotes and affirmations can really speak to you. Which is what happened this morning when I came across this one.

“We are so vain that we even care for the opinion of those we don’t care for.” - Marie Von Ebner-Eschenbach

When I first read it I thought of work (it’s not right to think of work first is it?)

In the last week I have bought to my own attention the amount of time it takes me to compose an email. This email might only be a paragraph long – a simple request or answer to a question. I agonize over word choice and whether or not to use an exclamation mark. I make sure I cover every which way something could be perceived so as not to offend or have someone think ill of me, then I press send. Surely this is not good use of my time, nor is it good for my mental health.

I know that a lot of this comes from my love of words and grammar but if I’m honest, I’d say that a good 30% of my email agony comes from caring for the opinions of those I don’t care for.

I could go on and on about the different things I do to impress people I don’t care about. Apparently I have a different tone of voice for people I don’t know and I often just agree with people’s opinions when I’m really thinking “Is this person for real!? Where’s the nearest exit!?”

I know it all comes down to first impressions and the like but caring too much about the opinions of others can really hold us back in our life.

Don’t even get me started on how long I’ve spent on this post.

D is for Dad

Today is Father’s Day. In lieu of being able to be with my Dad I wanted to reflect on the things I love about him.

I call him Micky B, sometimes Dad and sometimes Michael in the tone my Mum uses when she is angry with him. He is a farmer, but he came out of a different mould than most. He is always thinking of new ideas about farming (dung beetles anyone?). He is the best speller in my family and still has his Blackies dictionary from Year 6 out by the computer. He always says that dogs are meant for outside, but then lets them sit by the fire on cold nights. He loves techie gadgets, but when I told him the leafie + lize URL, he typed it in with spaces between the words and then rung me cos the page was showing an error.

I could go on forever, because in a way he is one of my best friends.

1) He is patient.

In everyday life he has so much patience and he is so calm. We are both similar, except for that one time we tried to pitch a tent together. We nearly yelled at each other that day. He once told me how he punched a guy in his office cos he had pushed him too far. Go Dad.

2) He buys things in twos.

This realisation came to me in my high school years. Mum went trekking in Nepal, which meant Dad had to do the grocery shopping. You would think there was a war approaching, because he bought two of everything. He just got back from Paris with a new funky striped shirt, and guess what? He bought two.

3) He has his own sense of style.

Our family farm is near a small town and there isn’t much shopping going on. For most men living there, it isn’t a fashion parade. But Dad went overseas and comes back with French hats, Moroccan slippers and Greek sandals. And he rocks them in the pub on a Friday night too.

4) He is a nice person.

He treats everyone the same. He would chat to a tree if it could talk back. He is welcoming and makes dorky jokes to make people feel comfortable. I hope some of his niceness has rubbed off on me.

5) He has a sense of humour.

We laugh at the same silly things. I can add “bloody oath” on the end of a normal sentence in an ocker accent and he thinks it is the funniest thing he has ever heard. Most worrying was when my friend said to me one day “You sounded like Micky B then”. Chip off the old block alright.

6) He will be the best Grandad one day (*cough* a long way down the track).

Little kids love him. He is so gentle and lovely with them. When the day comes that he is a Grandad it’s going to be amazing.

7) He has a great heart.

I found my favourite pic of Mum and Dad on their wedding day on my last trip home and left it out of the album. Mum said Dad made a special trip into town just to get a frame for it. He looks so happy in that photo and you can’t really blame him, Mum looks like a princess. I also know about the secret tin in his cupboard full of sentimental trinkets and letters. Now I know where I get that habit from.

8) He always tells me to follow my instincts.

And he is never wrong. Apart from that one time I wanted to study photography at school. But we have made peace with that.

9) He never tires of listening to my problems or giving advice.

I could call him every night of the week with a new problem and he would still give me his honest unbiased opnion. He never gets cross with me for questioning things or wanting to talk things out. There is that patience thing again.

10) He used to have red hair.

Um...not much more to add here. Red hair is awesome.

If I really thought long and hard about it, there would be a million reasons why I think he is a great Dad. This is just a snapshot, a little reminder of the things I don’t want to forget.

And don’t worry Dad, I won’t tell anyone about that one time you forgot to pick me up from tennis lessons. It’ll be out little secret...

Home sweet home

I went home on the weekend. I will never ever tire of it. That first morning when I wake up there I feel like a new me. I can smell the fresh air, walk around with no shoes on and not brush my hair for two days in a row. The best part is looking up at night and seeing all of the stars. You don't see those in the big city. 

This particular weekend I went home for the birthday of my Dad. I got to catch up with family, friends, laugh, lay on the grass with Manu the Dog, eat food, drink wine and act as assistant farm hand to said Dad. There is no where else I would rather be.

Highlight of the weekend: driving past the main paddock and seeing a newly born calf wobbling around on its skinny legs.