FREE tickets to see "funny and poetic" LEO

Roll up, roll up. The circus is coming to town! Would you like to see it? For free? Read on! LEO is not your traditional circus. More like physical theatre, it is intimate, mind-bending, and extraordinary. It's what might happen if the laws of gravity were to suddenly change, and it is part of the Arts Centre Melbourne 2013 Summer Season lineup.

Created by Berlin-based production company Circle of Eleven, LEO was awarded Best of Edinburgh Fringe and has been described as "funny and poetic" (New York Post).

The Melbourne season runs from 15-27 January 2013, and I have two tickets to give away for 16 January! Simply email me (nabulger at gmail dot com) if you'd like to win the two tickets. AND if you blog, Tweet or post on Facebook about this competition, send me the links and I'll give you an extra place in the draw for each one. I'll draw the winner at random at noon on the 15th. The tickets will be available at the box office to pick up on the night.

In the meantime, here is a little taste of what you'll see. Isn't it magical?

Old circus photographs at top are all licensed under The Commons on Flickr. Photograph above is from LEO, used with permission.

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UPDATE: I got a little bit confused. Please blame 'baby brain' rather than my general blonde-ness. There are many wonderful shows in the Summer Season lineup, and I'm yet to see most of them. Including LEO, of course, because it hasn't opened yet. On closer observation, based on the descriptions on the website, LEO is not a circus-y show, that's Oh Suivant (which also looks fabulous). LEO is, however, still magical and gravity-defying (just watch the video if you don't believe me). So please enjoy these circus images which actually don't have anything to do with LEO but are awesome in their own right. Oh boy. Confused Blogger Gives Away Awesome Tickets Anyway.

Remember: just email me if you'd like to win two tickets to LEO, and you can give a much more accurate description of this show than I have, after the event.

ANOTHER UPDATE: This competition is now closed. Congratulations Lisa!

Flowers for Ophelia

Ophelia: There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts. Laertes: A document in madness! Thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Ophelia: There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you, and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There's a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father died. They say he made a good end. [sings] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.

Words from Hamlet by Monsieur William Shakespeare. Beautiful flower girls by Irina Bordo for Fashion Gone Vogue (via Honestly WTF).

Home renovation for toddlers

The day will come, all too soon I fear, when Madeleine will want to move into her own place. To ease the pain of separation that day is guaranteed to bring (to me), I may invest in real estate on her behalf to ensure she continues live nearby. Very nearby. In the family room, in fact. And the real estate will be of wonderfully-affordable cardboard construction.

Brand new Aussie company Tinyfolk makes creative and rather beautiful little indoor cubby houses and puppet theatres out of responsibly sourced, PEFC certified, and 100 percent recyclable cardboard. They come flat-packed so you can build them yourself (with not an allen key in sight), and the version called the "white playhouse" practically begs the kids to scribble and paint and glue glitter all over it.

Theatrical set designer and mum Genevieve Dugard heads up the company. "We love thoughtful products that create a space for children to make their own decisions, that encourage open-ended play," she says on her blog.

I'm actually quite looking forward to seeing Madeleine become Lady of the Manor, decorating her little home just like the utterly adorable toddlers in these photographs.

All images used with kind permission from Tinyfolk.

Favourite things - how to survive summer

It's 41 degrees outside today and to be honest I am struggling to find my joy. We live in an old house with no air conditioning, and the one living space is lit by a skylight that's half the size of the room, letting the heat pour in without even curtains to block it. My forehead is damp with sweat, poor baby has heat-rash, and Em has been lolling listlessly on the couch for hours. Yet we are stuck inside because outside is a lot worse, and a visit to the beach or pool would be a heat-stroke / sun-stroke / skin-cancer risk off the richter scale. I am using today's favourite things post to help me feel better about summer and survive this heat-wave. Anything else you suggest?

1. Make ice cream

My Dad had an ice-cream maker when I was growing up. It was a plastic, battery-driven contraption that kept on stirring the ice-cream while it was in the freezer. We'd try all different kinds of flavours, and marshmallow was a favourite of us kids. But how about this one folks: toasted marshmallow coconut milk ice cream! Oh my! Get the recipe from How Sweet It Is. (Via B for Bel)

2. Reimagine summer

Reimagine summer as a time that is warm but not stifling; coastal, floral, and dreamy. Like this video of a pretty little slumber party, which is quite lovely, but also reminds me eerily of Picnic at Hanging Rock.

3. Plan a winter picnic

Supposedly, looking forward to a holiday releases all these good endorphins that help fight depression. So I figure, looking forward to winter and the cooler weather may do the same thing for me. I'm dreaming of a white... picnic. We don't get snow here in Melbourne in winter, but I do still like the idea of a fresh winter picnic, like this one. I think it could be quite lovely.

4. Drink lemonade

Litres and litres of the stuff. I don't think there is anything more refreshing on a hot day. This is my recipe:

1 cup fresh lemon juice 1 cup water 1 cup caster sugar 1 bottle soda water (the 1.25L kind)

Squeeze the lemons. Dissolve the caster sugar in the water in a saucepan on medium heat. Combine the lemon juice and sugar-water in a two-litre container, then top it up with the soda water, adjusting how much you add according to the strength you want. I often like to add some shredded mint leaves for extra freshness.

5. Start a good, old-fashioned water fight

This photo was taken in Madeleine's Nanna's back yard a year ago, while Mr B chased the cousins around with a bucket and hose. "Hey! I've got five dollars for each of you. Line up," he called. And the little cuties fell for it, each lining up and holding out their hands. "AHA!" yelled Mr B, and pulled the hose out from behind his back and squirted them all. They ran away squealing with delight. All except Livvy, then four years old, who closed her eyes and braced herself as she took the full force of the hose in her face without running away. When Mr B finally turned the hose off she wiped the water out of her eyes and held out her hand again, demanding, "Where's my five dollars?"

Why do we lose simple pleasures like these when we grow up? We've got a couple of friends coming over to join us for fish and chips for tea tonight. I think I might lure them into the back courtyard for an after-dinner water attack of my own.

Bookish friends

I am in a book club. Well, I have joined one, and our first get-together is scheduled for later this month. I'm really looking forward to it. I've never been in a book club before, and I don't know the ladies in this book club very well (or at all). Do you have any advice for me about how to make the most of the meetings, what to bring to the group, and how to approach each book as I read it?

These are the books we'll be reading first. The Fault in our Stars by John Green, The Secret Keeper by Kate Morton, Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling, Oh Dear Silvia by Dawn French, The Line of Beauty by Alan Holinghurst, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, Jack of Diamonds by Bryce Courtenay, Floundering by Romy Ash, and Blog Inc by Joy Deangdeelert Cho.

Have you read any of them? What are your thoughts?

Meals on wheels - Grub Food Van

Happy New Year to you, dear friend. I hope you embrace it with hope and gusto and bravery, and may it bring you deep love and great joy. Recently, in my quest to sample the wares of all the food trucks in Melbourne, I took a stroll up to the Grub Food Van. It was a bit of a stretch, but I included Grub because when the weather warms up, the folk here open up their classic streamline caravan for food service in the sunny courtyard.

I found a table under the shade cloth and ordered an avocado salsa on toast and the biggest, coldest drink on the menu.

The people here are lovely and there's a friendly resident dog called Mutti (they also serve hot dogs called Mutti Dogs, but she doesn't seem to carry a grudge), a fabulous greenhouse (photos here), and delicious food, all of which combine to make Grub one of my favourite local cafes. But I've gone on about all this before. So let's talk a minute about dating my daughter, instead.

Madeleine is an AWESOME date. First of all, she can almost sit up by herself, which is extremely desirable in one's choice of lunch company. When we get to a cafe, I tilt her stroller up into the 'big girl' toddler position, and she can't keep the delight out of her face as she watches the world from this whole new perspective.

Second, Madeleine is a great conversationalist. In that she is of the opinion that I am a great conversationalist. She hangs on my every word, laughs at all my jokes, and, as I raise my coffee cup to my lips and back, she watches with an expression that ranges from fascination to adoration at my manual dexterity.

She also smiles constantly, never raises an eyebrow if I order a cupcake, and is generously free with the cuddles and kisses (something more lunch dates should be). And finally, she wiggles her head in what we like to call "the Stevie Wonder" dance-move whenever I squeeze her squeaker-toy, like this.

At Grub, Madeleine managed all of the above. And when it got too hot outside we moved indoors, where she took her dance moves to the woven mat floor while I polished off a delicious slice of cake with heavy cream and read a magazine.

I defy you to find better company in a cafe.

Favourite moments from 2012

Before Madeleine was born, people told me about this weird time perception thing that happens when you have a baby. "The days are long but the years are short," they said. It is true. A day can drag on - and on and on - while baby refuses to sleep or feed and you can't figure out why they're crying and you just. want. to. sleep. And yet time flies by! One minute you have a tiny, floppy-headed, wrinkly-skinned newborn nestling into the crook of your neck and snoring, and then, in the blink of an eye, they are big and fat and bright-eyed and trying to make you laugh when they should be asleep.

The lesson, of course, is to cherish the moments. Even the frustrating, exhausting, tearful ones. This is something I have been trying to do, and I think it can apply to all of us, not just those with little children.

True to form, 31 December 2011 feels like about a zillion years ago, as well as yesterday. I thought I'd take a look back over some of my favourite moments, as captured on this blog.* Sure, some of them are profound (to me), but some appeal simply because they are pretty, or a bit quirky, or fun. I'm treasuring moments of all kinds.

* January: Noticing moments is also about noticing little and lovely things, like butterflies * February: For Valentine's Day, I shared the condensed version of a graphic novel I made for Mr B, recounting our long-distance romance * March: Food, games and George Calombaris were at the local school fete * April: A spot of creative writing. Insights into McArdle's Mind, a man who gets lost in the world of his own thoughts, plus stunning ghostly trees by Irene Suchocki * May: Do you remember this wonderfully redundant automated postcard machine? * June: I'm kind of proud of this post on eternal life. I don't often get too philosophical on my blog, but I did here. And this moment, also in June, was the doozy of all moments * July: It was the strangest feeling to be no longer carrying my baby inside me, learning how to be an individual again came slowly and in fits and starts * August: I love doing surprise little guerilla community projects, like this one * September: The day I discovered my local herb and spice merchant was a very happy one! * October: Pulling together this garden party for my dear friend Tonia was kind of a big deal for me, but super fun (plus my Mum & Dad were in town - hooray!) * November: I visited the Mr Burger food truck and it was sublime. This post marked the beginning of my new Meals on Wheels series for this blog. Best research ever. * December: This three-day hike in national parkland along the Great Ocean Road was stunning, and exactly what I needed

I'd love to hear from you. What are your favourite moments from your life in 2012?

* If you've been reading my blog for a little while, you'll know that between August and October I switched across from Weebly to Wordpress. In the process, I lost all the comments you had left on any earlier posts. I'm sorry if you look back and find your insights and conversations missing. Please know they mean the world to me and I still look back of them in the old Weebly editor from time to time.

First Christmas

By popular demand (mostly from Aunty Bev) I present: Madeleine's first Christmas. When we woke up in the morning, Santa had been.

Baby M dressed up in a Christmas tutu and elf hat and gamboled on the fluffy rug. She seemed, already, to know that this was to be an especially fun day.* With Nan and Pa far away in Sydney, we all blessed the invention of Skype (after we got it to work, that is).

Later, while Madeleine napped... champagne brunch with friends, outside in the courtyard, where the sun made the rosemary fragrant and the olive tree had started to bear fruit. We sat around a table laden with fresh croissants, cherries, berries (strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and blueberries), yoghurt, honey, and mixed-berry muffins still warm from the oven.

Christmas crackers snapped, silly hats on heads, appalling jokes on tongues.

A trip to the airport to pick up big sister Em. A journey to Bendigo to visit Mr B's family. A stop-off at the hotel for Em to open her presents and Madeleine to eat the paper.

At Nanna's house, a veritable present frenzy with all Madeleine's cousins, which ended in three-year-old Mia dancing and throwing paper over her head like a game in a pile of autumn leaves. All of this I failed to photograph because I was on the floor holding onto Madeleine while she played in her own paper storm.

I will leave you with Nanna and almost all of her grand-children, the little ones yelling "ME-RRRRRY CHRISTMAS!" just for you.

(Yes, I know that was a LOT. I'm not great at editing or curating when it comes to pictures of my family).

*Side effect: at the conclusion of Christmas and the couple of similar days that followed, Madeleine decided that sleep was for dummies and pledged never to do it again. AAAARGH. To be continued.

Letters of note

On Christmas Eve I wrote a tiny letter to Madeleine, tied it up with red ribbon, and slid it into a Christmas bauble with some glitter and coloured confetti. It was a very simple letter. I just told her some bits and pieces about her first Christmas, since she wouldn't remember it herself. Where we lived, how we would start the day, all our visits with family and friends. I told her about the friends who were coming for brunch, and how we would pick up her big sister from the airport at lunch time. I told her about how her five-year-old cousin Livvy had special clothes posted to us ahead of time so that Madeleine could wear them when we visited and the girls would have matching outfits. I told her about our tree and her presents. I told her how gloriously fat her little legs were, and how much she liked to laugh. I told her how much she was loved.

The bauble was decorated on the outside with a big M for Madeleine and 1 for her first Christmas. Each year, I'll make a new bauble, and write a new letter.

This morning at six o'clock while I was feeding Madeleine and flicking through the Internet on my iPhone, I discovered a stunning blog called Letters of Note, which curates and republishes funny, profound, touching and unusual letters written by famous people throughout the ages. Here is a letter written by journalist and diplomat Walter H. Page to his infant grandson, on the grandson's first Christmas. Page's letter is somewhat more witty and intelligent than mine to M, I must say.

Whenever you next have time on your hands, have a browse through this blog. But a word of caution: it is very, very addictive.

Snail mail: lovely letters

I've been spending some time during my Christmas break sending books and letters to you guys, the lovely subscribers to my blog, to say thank you. As you probably know, I like to draw pictures on the mail I send. These are a few of my latest favourites. If you want to see more, I've created an album on my Facebook page. If you'd like me to send some mail to you, you just need to subscribe to this blog and fill in the form on the same page. I'll send you a copy of my book Airmail in a lovely package.

UPDATE 5 July 2014: as of today I have run out of copies of Airmail to send you. However I would still love to send you something nice by snail-mail to say thank you for reading this blog, and I will still do my best to make it look pretty. If you have subscribed to this blog (or you want to), simply fill in your postal details on this page. And if you're still keen to read Airmail, there's a list of stockists here.