inner pickle

cue a short break in the coughing to hang out the washing

No, I'm not clear exactly what she's trying to achieve either. 

But if I diverted you for a second, then my work here is done. 

xxx

it doesn't always work

I'm pretty lucky. At least I've always felt lucky. 

Stuff does mostly work. 

But in case you were getting the irrits cruising by here with the sweet children and the glorious family farm and the caramel that just seems to work, I'm here to tell you it doesn't always.

Here is a banana loaf I made last week. 

Filed in the recipe index under dreadful. (Also diabolical.)

 

Here's a pretty photo I took of Tilly.

Snapped exactly one second before she slipped off backwards and banged her bum of the edge of the pavers. As I mopped her up, she sobbed at me, 'you didn't catch me because you were taking a photo!'

 

And look. A handmade pair of pajama pants and (bought) singlet carefully embroidered with a matching scrap of fabric, for a six year old friend's birthday. And they don't fit. Not a bit. 

(Nonetheless we can fix this! As I will, later this week.)

 

And there I was with PERFECT light and how good are my photos? 

Am a regular Annie Leibovitz.

 

Oh the skill.

 

And with that lovely falling light, that's it. 

AWESOME. 

Something that does usually work is grilled cheese on toast.

Second dinner, anyone?

xxx

some days

some days are all about perspective

 

dreadful disease?

 

or expressive body art?

 

Henry home sick with a headcold. 

Tilly developing an unhealthy attachment to glitter glue. And clag. And glue sticks. There's not a craft project that does not require glue at the moment.

Ivy attacked by a merciless mosquito. 

Dinner? IKEA meatballs.

Oh yes. And green pasta for me. 

Tomorrow is a new day, with new glue sticks. 

And on a Wednesday there's always Glee.

xxx

 

 

three months

Three short months with us, out here. 

What did we ever do without her?

What did they do without her?

Three months ago

I didn't know every inch of her wee face

and how soft her fuzzy head feels 

and how strong and bonny she would be. 

Three short months ago I didn't know her name

I hadn't felt her tiny hands grabbing mine

And I really didn't know that she would be 

an absolute joy

rather than a secret burden.

Wonder what the next three months will bring. 

xxx

picnicking

There's nothing like it. Alfresco peanut butter sandwiches...

...some very serious games of hide and seek...

..i.e. small excited people hiding from their terrifying father...

...and how much do I love my boy's smile?

 

I'm joining in with Elsie Marley's Kid's Clothes Week challenge this week - spending one hour a day sewing clothes for kids. My sewing machine is threaded and I have a skirt cut out for Tilly which has been sitting waiting to be sewn for ages! 

Nothing like a gang of girls all round the world all sewing for a week to get you going!

xxx

I love the mountains

This weekend one whole side of my extended family, a wonderful bonus that came with Adam, went to the mountains. Where lichen grows on walls and the temperature drops to freezing. One of my favourite places in the world (after Mum and Dad's.)

We holed up in a cosy house with wine and lots of food and laughs. 

This place had a vegie garden!

And a chook house! (Currently unoccupied.)

Truly, can I move here?

We hung out with beloved cousins.

We explored.

We got a glimpse into the future; off they go...

We stomped in puddles.

 

And we celebrated Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day to all the fabulous fathers we love. We cherish you. 

xxx

pictures of weekendiness

Saturday was a day filled with excited six year olds, birthday cake and bursting balloons. Very, very good fun but Sunday needed to be a bit peaceful. A play and picnic in the park. Our favourite park.

With a new birthday scooter. Its first outing.

 

My view.

Henry: "Don't step in the glass, Mum."

Me: "How did you get to be so grown up? Or so casually inner-city?"

Henry: "Huh?"

 

Come on scooter boy. I'll take you.

 

(How did you get so grown up?)

 

His father does his best concentrating with tongue out too. Ah, genetics.

 

She has totally forgotten she's wearing her helmet.

 

There's talk of a storm. Henry is tuned into Adam's excitement about some extreme weather conditions. Tilly, not so much.

 

As I took this photo the first drops came down. This is Sydney rain. You get very wet, very quickly.

Forget the baby who is being rained on for the first time, I try to get my beloved camera under my t-shirt. Can't. No room with all those boobs. Right. Hightailing it back to the car, wearing baby, protecting camera, trailing small people and carrying scooter and bikes.

Ad carried the coffee and didn't spill a drop, wonderful man.

Car picnic.

Perfect.

xxx

 

 

 

six

How about that. Six years old tomorrow.

Our little dude, Henry Bean.

Six years ago tonight I was pacing and swaying in what I now know was pre-labour. I was forgetting to pack Adam's boardshorts although I planned a whole lot of birthing bath action (packed his speedos instead - never heard the end of it. When he tells the story of searching for his boardies and finding his speedos then standing in them and only them with me in full labour and a roomful of midwives, well, it's a very funny story. But I digress.)

Henry, you excellent little man, we are so pleased to have been here for the last six years with you.

We love your sweetness, we love your single mindedness and we love how much you love your friends. Particularly George.

We love your questions. Yes, maybe you can marry George one day. No you cannot marry Tilly. No you cannot marry Ivy either.

We love your dedication to bananas.

We love that of the whole world of foods you can choose from for your birthday dinner (anything, that's the rule) you choose pumpkin soup. And jelly.

We admire your skills with all things electronic and internet-related, particularly my laptop.

We love that you've finally discovered Lego. Your grandparents are hoping this means your father might finally take his enormous Lego collection out of their spare room and take it home.

We respect the fact you are so not a morning person and for one birthday further down the track we'll probably introduce you to espresso. It's bound to help. (It can turn my morning around, that's for sure.)

We love the fact that all you want to talk about at the dinner table is what everyone had for morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea. (It's the Walmsley in you, Son. Don't fight it.)

We think about what you've learnt, what you've gone through and where you're at now, compared to a year ago, and we're impossibly proud of you.

Happy birthday, fella. We love you.

xxx

 

 

this moment

Inspired by Soulemama's Friday ritual, here's my moment to cherish this week:

 Adam and our newest addition, Ivy, three weeks old. Asleep almost instantly in the Baby Bjorn on Daddy's chest. 

Photo from my iPhone (using Hipstamatic.)

Have a gorgeous weekend.

xxx

day in pictures

First: you lot have some excellent stuff lurking in your pantries!! 

Sue: can you email me a photo of your mystery vegetable by any chance? 

Am now on lookout for uses for balsamic pickled cucumbers, rye flour (I have a bag of this too, Angie), middle eastern fig confit (YUM) and mango pickle. (Yvette - I have moved interstate and back with out of date pantry items! But salt has such a long shelf life, that's gotta be the one to beat!)

Pantry discussion to be posted shortly. 

Notwithstanding the fact our smallest smallie only got up once last night (what a wonderful little person) my brain is a tad frazzled today so am posting pictures instead! 

The makings of a wedding present for an adored cousin of mine...

Lunch: vegetable and barley soup. Hearty and delicious on a very cold Sydney day!

Sisterly afternoon cuddles. 

Dinner...

   

Hope you're warm wherever you are: it's freezing in Sydney tonight!

xxx