tea with me

The kettle has boiled, and it's one of those times a big pot is required.
If you were here, come for tea with me, I'd offer the assortment - rose, peppermint, earl grey, chai, or any of the hidden ones at the back. I'd love to make you a pot of any of them, but you're more than welcome to share my Liquorice Legs. The blend of spearmint and liquorice is just what I need right now. Sweet, reflective.
Let's stretch, roll those shoulders, take a deep breath, sit up straighter. That's better.
We're in the Late Winter Slump at the moment. Spring is taunting me. The blossoms are enchanting and every day I check my bulbs and give them a pep-talk. Narcissus and tulip, fresia and jonquil, do hurry up, we so want to see you again! The daffodils sway in golden masses along the main streets of town, the wind almost flattening them. Blue skies and rain and bitter winds are playing tag.
But... all winter one sickness has followed another and now, heading into the make-or-break bit of the year, we're going in tired. Time to take stock, breathe deep, be still.
As the clock ticks down to exams I'm remembering a book I read, and re-read, and then re-read a few years back. Pip Pip, a Sideways Look at Time, by Jay Griffith, one of the most exciting, intoxicating and possibly edge-of-sanity writers I've read. Pip Pip discusses different notions of time, of how we talk of 'spending' time, 'wasting time', 'saving' time. Of different cultural notions of time, of 'fast' time and 'slow' time. I'm going to have to chase it down again, for so often I forget to take the time to be still, to savour this time I'm in now.
My own race with time is finished for now. I completed my third Nano (a novel - or 50,000 words, written in a month) on the night of the 31st of July, at nineteen minutes to midnight. Was I frantically checking the minutes? Yes, I was. Did it really matter if I was a few minutes late?
It was a self imposed task, with no one really caring but me.
I think it did matter, but I'm still pondering. I do love having so much of the story out in the world, to see how I can bring it together. I love knowing that I did it, that in the last year I've completed 150,000 words. The NaNo's bring structure to my writing year, forcing me to prioritise my writing. They are always a disaster for the house, (please don't look at the dust on top of my desk in the photo, I will dust... sometime) but I like it as a way of saying 'yes, this is important, it has a deadline'.  Already I'm counting down to November, and the next mad dash of NaNo words...

And you? How are things with you, in your part of the world? And what's your choice of tea?

Joining with the beautiful Em at teacups too for 'tea with me', a virtual cuppa! 

three

You turned three this week, my Poppet.
I look at you and try to remember a world you were not in, and fail. It seems impossible there was a time when you weren't here with us, filling our lives with joy and laughter and outrageous demands.
At three you are vivacious, assertive, confident, imaginative, tender, creative.
You have an imaginary friend called Mary, who sometimes lives in Scotland and sometimes in Germany (where the sun goes when it is not here) and sometimes in the next town and is sometimes alive and sometimes dead. She is always your sister and your friend.
You have a beloved teddy, Baby Cubby, who goes everywhere with you, and is always needing to be re-dressed and tucked up. You have renamed yourself 'Cubby', while your Daddy is 'Big Cubby', I am Mummy-Pirate and your brother is Sprocket-Pirate.
You often break into loud, happy song. The way you so enthusiastically say "Of course," when asked to share or help, always melts our hearts, while the way you say "actually," generally with your hands on your hips, makes us grin.
You toss around words like 'precious', 'fragile', 'delicate', and can name most of the planets, but still have problems with 'I', 'she' and 'them'. "Her would like some of they," is a common sentence. Your stories are long and involved, about fairies and dragons, teddies, pirates and planes.
When you ask me for a 'pretend' story, one I make up, as opposed to one I read to you, you always specify there should be a princess, a yellow doll, a good witch and a naughty witch. Each night you fall asleep in my arms, each morning you wake in my arms. I find it hard to believe there will come a time when you will be too big for this. Your sleep murmurings are enlightening: generally about protecting your beloved teddies and dolls.
You love your big brother and always stick up for him. You are not at all sure that he should go to kindy without you. You play together, squabble together, kiss each other sorry and give each other hugs when you are hurt. You are a pack and you have each others backs.
You love to draw and paint, jump in muddy puddles and kick a ball about. You love dress-ups and op-shopping, beach-play, cooking, running on the trampoline and joking around with your Daddy.
You have a terrible sweet-tooth. Not infrequently you have been found with both hands in the sugar jar or the honey pail. You have also been known to hide away under a table with the butter tub... While you love cooking you find it hard to wait for the bowl to lick, and instead steal the mixture when you think I'm not looking.
You love looking at all my pretty things, jewellery and china, ornaments and clothes. Often your lower lip will come out and you will look up at me. I know what's coming. "My don't have a pretty red box like that," you tell me. And I know you have your sights set on acquiring another of my things. I've already gone through my jewellery box and palmed off all my unmatched earrings and costume bits. Now you have your eyes on the box itself...
You are generous, open, affectionate. Your kisses, hugs, 'I love you's' are bestowed freely throughout the day, flung out like colourful confetti. You say 'thank-you', in tones of wonder, for the smallest things. 'Thank-you, you're the best, mummy!' 'that's super awesome!' are hourly gifts.
Your little tantrums are like summer rain. Your daddy and I have to turn aside not to giggle, and instead distract you.
You are our constant stream of giggles, our song, our wild dance, our joy and our delight.

Weekly Stills - Winter with a Splash of Gold

1 & 2. Chicks at my Sprocket's Kindy. He would very much like one. We are suggesting hermit crabs. I grew up with chickens, and they are very sweet, but I don't think we're ready... at least, not quite yet.
3. A sulfur-crested cockatoo in our wattle tree. We call them Angel-birds. I love looking up at all the birds that visit the wattle tree. Everyday when I hang out the washing and potter in the garden new visitors arrive, rosellas, wattlebirds, and a multitude of different types of cockatoos. A gift that never fails to uplift me.
4 & 5. It is lemon season. The kids are now recovering from their chest infections and my beloved (the med-student) informs me I have viral bronchitis. I am revelling in lots of lemon and honey concoctions and sniffing steaming towels smothered in eucalyptus oil! Is it crazy to enjoy the rituals of colds? Don't answer!
6. Early morning rain drops.
7. My Poppet's little toes. With her little dolls toes beside her.
8. Winter foliage. Trying to distract myself from a brisk wind in a playground as the kids played on the slide and failed to notice it was freezing!

Joining with the wonderful Em of The Beetleshack for weekly stills.

31/52

1. My Poppet, one golden morning we played hooky from housework while the Sprocket was at Kindy.
2. My Sprocket, tenderly cradling one of his (many) robots. Before his eyes are open in the morning he is asking for the favoured one of the day.

Joining with the beautiful Jodi over at Che and Fidel for a portrait of my children once a week in 2013.

Sometimes, Magic Comes

We never meant to have an adventure. There was washing to hang, the hound to walk, and the not inconsiderable deterrent of seven thousand words to finish before midnight. However,  the Poppet and I dropped the Sprocket at kindy and then decided to take a quick peek at some blossoming trees we had seen from the car.

 Once we reached the blossom we looked down the hill and saw the lake, and once we saw the lake we had to explore. Once we reached the lake there was a boardwalk that needed following, a gold-gleaming ditch that needed stomping in, and then we saw the Princess Duck, on the far side of the lake.
We circumnavigated the whole of the lake seeking out the Princess Duck (or egret to those of a more orthonological turn), but unfortunately when we reached where the royal bird should be it was hiding in the reeds. Finally, we realised that it was time to pick the Sprocket up from kindy (see Poppet's face above at the thought we might be late!) We had been exploring for the whole of the morning, sidetracked by magic.