I love Ikea, and quite frankly, I think the feeling's mutual.

Yes, I think Ikea loves me back.

Whenever I go there I have a great time, and Ikea enjoys me being there because I pack my trolley full, and when I'm driving away the red, yellow and blue Ikea flags wave at me more vigorously than they wave at anyone else. They do. They flutter alot as I drive passed/past/by.

Who doesn't wax lyrical about the Ribba frame? This one is showing-off a print by none-other-than KLT.

Here's another Ribba. But larger. Designers think of everything, don't they? This one is displaying an inaluxe print.

And Ikea is a boon for small people. I found these little cups which are designed like dogs or hedgehogs or some other mammalian creature.

They're already proving very popular. Years ago, my sister told me that Swedish people don't actually like Ikea because it's too utilitarian and ubiquitous. I still lie awake at night shaking my head about that revelation.

Nostalgia and sentimentality are killing me. Thank goodness for Ikea's storage boxes.

Thomas the Tank Engine jumper. I don't even like this item of clothing. Why am I keeping it? Because Child 3 loved it.

What works better, do you think?

A blog post which is shorter and focused on one idea? Or a longer blog post which jumps from one idea to the next?

My highly educated brain would say a focused, singular blog post works better, but my highly schizoid brain would say a whole lot of ideas randomly connected works just as well. So, I'll jump to the next thing ...

She said the parcel would look like Minnie Mouse, and it did! I'm surprised the spotted paper survived the trip from Los Angeles with barely a tear, and no evidence of Australian Quarantine's involvement. Australian Quarantine is one organisation that's not backwards about being forwards in ripping people's parcels open in the non-ending search for contraband.

This particular parcel came from Rachel. It had the most beautiful message.

And exciting bits and pieces that have me all inspired to start sewing again.

And this wonderfully long pillowcase which is too long for a pillowcase, but too beautiful to cut-up. What to do? What to do?

Iron-on transfers ... I've found these ones impossible to buy in Australia, so I just gave up. I remember buying iron-on transfers from Woolworths in the 70s. A lady used to take us there and buy them for us, and she wasn't our mother. I don't know who she was.

If only I had the 'old-lady hands finger trapper' back then. I could have trapped that woman's finger and, while she was snared, grilled her as to who the hell she was, and why was she buying us transfers to iron-on to our t-shirts?

Little bags of treasures for the three that have been sent away to their grandparents' house for the holidays. I do miss them while they're away.

Mysterious blue eyes and ginger hair ....

Made by Rachel's own hands. She's 'pritty' and we were going to call her Henry, but have decided she's much better suited to 'Lady Ra Ra'.