Last week, when the thought of hanging washing on the line seemed like a novelty, I decided it was time to turn off the computer and step away for a few days. Just like in Autumn I was feeling [...]
Saturday afternoon Bunnings trip with a tired Poet and Vampire Che (who wore a pirate flag but will have his very own cape & mask set come Christmas). First stop is always the paint aisle [...]
“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2012.” Che: “Look mum, the light!” – the night before this glorious sun-drenched morning I lay next to him in [...]
Glimpses of my morning: the violet view from my coffee spot, cleansing tea of camomila, lavender and calendula, a brown paper package. Observing the little snippets around me is essential to both [...]
Tonight the sun will set an hour later which can only mean one thing – summer beckons. I do love summertime dusk; lazying on the verandah before the mozzies come to visit, lingering for an [...]
“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2012.” Che: He dreams of travelling to New York City, Mt Vesuvius and then London. Poet: On the table. Always on the table. [...]
…and strawberries. Party celebrations left me a little weary so I’ve been pottering these past few days; drinking tea and catching up. Strangely I’ve also decided to switch the [...]
Popa built a pirate ship in the backyard and reminded me that Che’s 5th birthday was fast approaching. A pirate party was absolutely necessary, apparently, so I set about burning the edges [...]
“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2012.” Che: “Argh me hearties” – bellowed from the bow of the ship. Poet: A grazed nose and sore [...]
Today we snuck into the neighbour’s garden and picked the last of the lemons from the tree. Yellow fruit has been replaced with blush pink blooms – and a swarm of bees on the sweet [...]
At around this time every year I wander through the days leading up to his birthday, trying my hardest to accept that he is one year older. The universal experience of the mother. I could write [...]
