This is a Bakerloo line train to the unemployment queue

Emma Clarke, the woman who does those saucy voiceovers on the tube in London, has been fired for putting a series of MP3s on her website. You can find them here. They're quite funny. Fnah.

Make a postie's day!

Last year was the first time I sent out Christmas cards. It made me feel very grown up. This year, I was planning to do what my mother does every year - send out cards with a letter. An actual letter, not an email or a blog post. A letter. Updating everyone on what amazing things I had been up to in the past year.

Then one came through the mail the other day, complete with good looking couple with kid picture, and I was so cynical about it - 'look at us, doing this stuff, aren't we great' etc, that I changed my mind. P'raps because I did not know the couple in question. But this year has had big news (a-hem ... a 100km walk, an almost Qantas award, and growing another person) and I'm a writer for goodness sakes. Writing a letter espousing the greatness of this year was destined to be. I also read the letter these good looking people had sent and it wasn't that bad. And plus, sending out my amazing letter and cards will keep those good looking men and women called posties in work for a wee while longer.

We love posties, we do.

Sparrow & Tui are stoked to be stocked at ...

the gorgeous Wanda Harland shop in Petone. It's awesome, you should go there.

How Sweeney is like his Grandad

Likes wearing his bath robe

Is into Freemasons

Looks good in a pommie stetson (ignore nose - the result of multiple face plants ...)

Will read any time, anywhere, especially at the dinner table

Things that go bump in the night

For those not subjected to minute-by-minute updates on the size of my rapidly increasing bump, here's some pics.

This one's about 27 weeks:

And this one is hot off the press - 30 weeks:

Curiosity almost kills the cat

My beloved furry boyfriend Charlie almost died today. He managed to get himself locked in the Postie's boot this afternoon - the Postie says it wasn't intentional - and it's only because the Postie was too lazy and fat to bike into town this afternoon that Charlie is still alive. Instead, the Postie took his car, and somewhere around five minutes after leaving home heard Charlie's plaintive ear piercing yowl from the boot. It's also lucky P didn't have his stereo blaring heavy metal at the time too. So instead of certain death in a hot boot, C was treated to a car ride in the front seat which he apparently rather enjoyed.

This afternoon let's all hug our cats, rejoice in their little quirks and annoying habits and be grateful they're not trapped in the boot.

minutes after putting the finishing touches on Sweeney's jersey, Charlie gives it a little love

Charlie loves the Postie. Especially when P is doing his shoulder exercises.

You can't stop the crafting, nobody can stop the crafting ...

Last weekend I felt so nesty that I stayed home and finished off a couple of long standing craft projects that had been hanging around, for years.

And here they are in their full glory:

Leo's sampler
This little puppy started life in 2003 when my friend Tina had her son Jhai. It was going to be for him, but someone beat me to it and did a Noah's Ark or something. Ange and I used to stitch away like old crones back in those days, and were going to call ourselves the Moir Street Crones Club. This was way before craft was cool, and I don't think you'll see many people admit they actually like cross stitch yet. Let me be the first. Anyway, along came Leo Firestone, so he is the lucky recipient of this piece of superb work. It's beside the point that it took me five years on and off, and that I had to get Ange to do the French knots because I'm hopeless.

The Bayeux Tapestry didn't take this long

"And the dish ran away with Elton John ... "

Sweeney's Jersey
This is the first jersey I ever knat purl on. Before this glorious article, the only knitting I had done was in 1985 when my best pal Lisa Robson and I did a 24 hour knitathon for that year's telethon. Needless to say, starting at 8pm on a Saturday night and knitting peggy squares for 24 hours, our eyes were practically bleeding by the end of it. We didn't actually make it to 8pm - I think I lasted till 6pm and nearly fell asleep in the bowl of pudding Mrs Robson had put on my lap.

This jersey is from a series of 1970s patterns called "Your Growing Child" that were given to me and Ange by our aunty Vonnie, well before Sweeney was born. I decided to make it the biggest size so that I had plenty of time to finish it. Good things take time. The Postie's mum did the neckband, and Bramwell made the crocheted loops for the buttons, and many many people helped along the way with advice from casting on to sewing up and everything in between. A triumph.

But that's not all!

Ange made this little cardi for Sweeney but he grew too fast to fit it, and she gave it to me sans buttons. So I put buttons on it and it now awaits his Tiny-ness' arrival.

Yet again, Rona Bramwell (aka Granwell) has outdone herself with this little number - a hedgehog-buttoned jacket and beanie combo. I tell ya, Tiny will be the best dressed kid on the block.

Pashing, pan pipes and the joy of big hips

This week, the Postie and I had our first ante-natal class at a church hall in Newtown. There was quite a mix of people - from a young Polynesian couple, to a couple of outspoken hippies, to a couple who had been married 15 years and were having their first baby. I thought at the ancient ages the Postie and I are, we'd be one of the oldest in the class but we weren't by a long shot.

I had been anticipating sitting on the floor on mats and it being all very touchy feely with deep breathing like yoga for couples, but it wasn't and for that I'm relieved. We watched a video of some German couples in labour with the most ridiculous soundtrack - kind of like elevator pan pipe music drowning out the groans and screams of the women in labour. As one couple approached the big moment, the music suddenly became very dark and foreboding. In slo-mo, man kisses woman's head as baby's head comes out. As baby's shoulders come out, woman turns her head with an open mouth to pash her partner and has this look of joy on her face as baby slithers out into midwife's waiting hands. It was all very disturbing. The man - who we nicknamed Rolf - sported a moustache of the ugly kind, and his hair was bleached but growing out a bit. He took off for a quiet corner immediately after the birth as the woman cradled and cooed new baby completely oblivious to her partner's impending mental breakdown. Crazy Churmans.

We then had to split into fat women and support people groups - us fat women had to talk about what our expectations of labour were (scary) and what it would be like for our partners (also scary). There was a bit of talking about feelings, which is bizarre with a bunch of strangers, and I felt all kind of weird seeing the Postie go off with a bunch of men to talk about his feelings. The men had to talk about ways they can support us when we're in labour, and I couldn't help but think I don't really want any of that coddling, holding my hand crap thankyouverymuch - I just to get through the whole thing with the Postie still my boyfriend at the end of it, and with Tiny making it out into the world without any medical procedures being required. I’m not good with needles you see.

Here I was going to go into a rant about the politics of birth – of the ‘I’ll Take The Pain Relief Thanks’ camp versus the ‘Home Birth All The Way, Women Have Been Doing It For Thousands Of Years’ camp. But I don’t actually have strong feelings about any of it one way or another. I had a quick squizz at the World Health Organisation website a while ago when I read a newspaper report that 600 babies died in New Zealand last year (that’s between 20 weeks gestation and four weeks old) and found these thought-provoking stats.

NEWBORNS

1. 1 out of 5 African women loses a baby during her lifetime, compared with 1 in 125 in rich countries.
2. Each year nearly 3.3 million babies are stillborn, and more than 4 million others die within 28 days of being born.
3. Newborn deaths now contribute to about 40% of all deaths in children under five years of age globally, and more than half of infant mortality.
4. The largest numbers of babies die in the South-East Asia Region: 1.4 million newborn deaths and a further 1.3 million stillbirths each year.
5. While the actual number of deaths is highest in Asia, the rates for both neonatal deaths and stillbirths are greatest in sub-Saharan Africa. Of the 20 countries with the highest neonatal mortality rates, 16 are in this part of the world.
6. It is estimated that each year over a million children who survive birth asphyxia develop problems such as cerebral palsy, learning difficulties and other disabilities.
7. Nearly three quarters of all neonatal deaths could be prevented if women were adequately nourished and received appropriate care during pregnancy, childbirth and the postnatal period.

CHILDBIRTH AND MATERNAL MORTALITY

1. Maternal mortality is currently estimated to be 529 000 deaths per year, a global ratio of 400 maternal deaths per 100 000 live births.
2. Between 11% and 17% of maternal deaths happen during childbirth itself and between 50% and 71% in the postpartum period.
3. About 45% of postpartum maternal deaths occur during the first 24 hours, and more than two thirds during the first week.
4. Maternal deaths are even more inequitably spread than newborn or child death rates. Maternal mortality rates range from 830 per 100 000 births in African countries to 24 per 100 000 births in European countries.
5. Of the 20 countries with the highest maternal mortality ratios, 19 are in sub-Saharan Africa.
6. The most common cause of maternal death overall is severe bleeding. Postpartum bleeding can kill even a healthy woman within two hours, if unattended. The second most frequent direct cause of death is sepsis; the third is unsafe abortion.

So really, I feel pretty lucky to be just minutes away from a hospital with all the sciencey stuff if I need it, have four midwives looking after me, and for being blessed with big hips.

The law is an ass

I've just come back from a whole day of annual leave that was supposed to leave me refreshed and ready to dig into my last weeks of work. But instead, I feel like I do most mornings - horrendous.

Luckily, my pal Tane sent me something kind of funny to fill in the first half hour of work while I wake up.

The UK's top 10 most ridiculous laws:
1. It is illegal to die in the Houses of Parliament
2. It is an act of treason to place a postage stamp bearing the British king or queen's image upside-down
3. It is illegal for a woman to be topless in Liverpool except as a clerk in a tropical fish store
4. Eating mince pies on Christmas Day is banned
5. If someone knocks on your door in Scotland and requires the use of your toilet, you are required to let them enter
6. A pregnant woman can legally relieve herself anywhere she wants, including in a policeman's helmet
7. The head of any dead whale found on the British coast automatically becomes the property of the King, and the tail of the Queen
8. It is illegal not to tell the tax man anything you do not want him to know, but legal not to tell him information you do not mind him knowing
9. It is illegal to enter the Houses of Parliament wearing a suit of armour
10. It is legal to murder a Scotsman within the ancient city walls of York, but only if he is carrying a bow and arrow

And ...
In Ohio, it is illegal to get a fish drunk
In Indonesia, the penalty for masturbation is decapitation
A male doctor in Bahrain can only examine the genitals of a woman in the reflection of a mirror
In Switzerland, a man may not relieve himself standing up after 10pm
It is illegal to be blindfolded while driving a vehicle in Alabama
In Florida, unmarried women who parachute on a Sunday could be jailed
Women in Vermont must obtain written permission from their husbands to wear false teeth
In Milan, it is a legal requirement to smile at all times, except during funerals or hospital visits
In France, it is illegal to name a pig Napoleon

Watch out food

I think I may be having what is known as a pregnancy craving, although it's not a craving for a particular thing, but a need to have food or drink in my mouth at all times. C'est bizarre. I am going to have to not only pack a glorious lunch every day, but a stack of crudites and nuts and things to keep me away from the snack drawer here on level four... oh - and I need to buy a three month supply of Quickeeze.

A light snack anyone?

It doesn't matter that I have a deadline approaching ...

It's Friday and I feel the need to goof off a little. And it's good weather, which makes it feel more like a holiday, hence even more need to goof off. I've just been to interview the very excellent Mitch Marks, who is launching a magazine called Choice next month, and she's reminded me of how much I used to love Kaz and Daniel Clowes and put a book in front of me which I wish I could remember the name of that I feel I must go and find at the library or something so I can remember how once I was cool too.

I am in the frumpy stage of pregnancy and feeling decidedly uncool. Unless I wear a way too tight merino top in which I can pretend I'm not whale-sized if viewed from the front, I have to wear smock type things which on skinny 17-year-olds are 'fashion' but on badly stuffed sausages like myself just look, well, frump-o-rama. It doesn't help that the postie weighs a good 10kg less than me at least, and we still have three months to go ... I should look like a swiss ball by the end of January.

Anyway, my goof-off mission this afternoon is something I've been contemplating for a little while. I've had my iPod playing songs in alphabetical order - don't know why - and have been marvelling at how many amazing songs start with the letter H. Hash Pipe, Holes, Heroes, Handshake Drugs, High and Dry, etc. Crazy. Martha has put out an SOS for music to play at her shop, so I thought I would put together a mix CD of songs, tracks, what you will, each starting with a different letter of the alphabet. She says she wants easy listening, and seeing as I am rather mainstream in my tastes, I reckon, this should be a sinch for me.

So I am proposing:
Ashes to Ashes - David Bowie
Blue Monday - New Order
Change my mind - Cassette
Disco 2000 - Pulp
Ever Fallen in Love - The Buzzcocks
Feeling Oblivion - Turin Brakes
Gigantic - Pixies
Heart of Glass - Blondie
I won't let you break my heart again - Dimmer
J - a work in progress
Kimberly - Patti Smith
Lucky - Radiohead
Mother and Child reunion - Paul Simon
Nature - The Muttonbirds
Ocean Spray - Manic Street Preachers
p - ummm?
q - errr?
Rattled by the Rush - Pavement
She Speeds - Straitjacket Fits
True Faith - New Order
Unforgettable Fire - U2
v - eeek!
Where is my mind - Pixies
Y - ouch!
z - oh please ...

Any suggestions for the gaps?

And again with the pretty things

The next craft fair I'll be selling my range of simply glorious shiny things at is coming up Pataka on Saturday 17 November, 10am-4pm.

Be there. Or else...