At least I took some photos

Wow.  This last couple of weeks just seems to have been hectic.  But the weird thing is that we haven't really done anything out of the ordinary.  No big events, no grand outings, just the usual day to day really.  But for some reason it seems to have been more full on than usual.  I feel like I have been running non-stop for two weeks and would really just like to stop and put my feet up for a day. 

There is no doubt that having four little ones (well, three little and one medium - at 8, David feels a bit more grown up these days) at home all day, every day calls for a lot of energy and input.  And since their Tata (Dad) is not around most of the time it means I am pretty much on double duty. 

The only way I can really get a grip on what we have been doing is to look back over the photos.  They tell the story better than my scatter-brain memory at the moment.  So this is what has been happening at our place.....

David spotted the last of the seasons' dragonflies on the fernery wall and we managed to get this picture.  There were so many flitting around in the garden over Autumn.

Winter has set in.  The changing colours in the garden have been beautiful to watch although I am always sad to see the bounty of Autumn fade to the bare and baron winter branches.  Thankfully the apple trees are holding on to their leaves a little longer than the other fruit trees so we still have some lingering colour.

And how could you not love pomegranates, hiding their treasure of ruby red seeds.

The giant sunflowers are (very obviously) finished but I just love the sculptural lines of their dried remains and am lobbying to keep them in the garden for as long as possible.  David is champing at the bit to pull them out to add to the bonfire pile.

There have been plenty of rainy days when the children have had to occupy themselves inside.  They rearranged the furniture so there was a table long enough for all of them to have some workspace - even baby Marta had a place...

and of course there has been plenty of Lego building and photographing going on.  David and Ari are both becoming quite expert set designers and photographers thanks to the instant, not to mention erasable, attributes of the digital camera.

The solstice has been and gone, and with it the first anniversary of my fathers' death.  We lit a candle for Dad when we woke in the morning and blew it out when we went to bed.  Amazingly the children were able to restrain themselves from blowing it out a dozen times during the day.  The temptation must have been immense.  Perhaps they were distracted by their own candle making activities which saw them each with three candles to light as the sun set.  They lit our dinner table enough that we could turn off the electric lights and enjoy a candlelit dinner. 


Dads' candle


And then there was the writing to add to an updated family tree.  My great aunty Isobel (who is 100 years old this year) has been collaborating with her neice, my aunty Isobel, to update the family history books she wrote many years ago.  Amazingly, a lot of this collaboration has taken place online.  Great Aunty Isobel is a wizz on the computer - some of the funniest emails in my inbox come from her.  So I had to put together a brief piece about my twig of the family tree and what we are up to.  It took way longer than it should have to write.  I can only imagine the work that the two of them are putting in to get everything together.  I hope I have so much energy when my time comes to update the family history in years to come. 

With the writing done, I had to find a photo to add.  But I am usually the one behind the camera so no photos of me with all of the children.  A call was put in to my big sister and a few hours later she arrived, camera in hand and we had a little photo shoot.  The children decided it would be fun to try on Janies' glasses first...



Mr David



Mr Aristo



Madam Jovanka

 Unfortunately by the time we got everyone organised outside the light was getting too dim so we relocated to the bed.  Another couple of costume changes - Jovanka wanted to wear Aris' Batman outfit for a couple of shots and then she didn't want to but Ari did and then .........well, eventually we got a couple of pics to choose from.  By which time Marta was ready for a nap.  I wouldn't have been sorry to join her.

Oh, and I finally bought a card reader so now I can load my photos straight on to the computer which makes all of this so much easier.
So that is what we have been up to.  And not even a stitch of knitting to show for all the time passed.

How are you?

How are you?  We get asked this question so often each day - at the supermarket checkout, the shops, on the phone, when we see a familiar face in the street.  Usually we give an automatic reply without really thinking about it.  But today someone asked me the very same question but there was something in her voice that caught me off guard.  It wasn't a D&M "So! How are you?" voice.  Just a friendly and (now this is what made it different) genuine question.  How was I? 
WELL!!!   Twenty minutes earlier, I had been chasing the dog around our backyard which is sodden and muddy from two days of almost constant rain.  He, in turn, was chasing one of our chickens who was clucking and squawking for all she was worth.  He cornered her behind a pile of boxes in the fernery and, by the sound of her, I thought she was a goner.  What to do?  What to do?  I couldn't get to either of them.  With little hope I called to the dog to come.  Was I kidding????  This dog was lining up for a chicken dinner.  But guess what?  He came!!!  Good dog!!!!  So, dog tied up, chicken checked and returned to the chook yard, four children loaded into the car (after having to fit three car seats which had been taken out a couple of days ago), we were away.
And then we call in to pick up some things from a woman I have met briefly a couple of times and she asks me "How are you?"  In that moment, the tension from my shoulders dropped, I took a breath and said "I'm good.".  And in that moment, I was.   Thanks Shaz.

Such a dream!!!  A magnificent craft show with wool fibres everywhere, rolls of ribbons and threads of all colours in shelves right up to the timber cathedral ceiling.  Exhibitors tables laden with more such gloriousness.  I decided to try my hand at some needle felting, which I have heard much about but not tried.  Standing at the bench with a great pile of coloured fleeces next to me I started to lay out my design as I thought it should be.  As soon as I began work the woman at the stall began telling me that it was wrong, that I couldn't  do it this way.  It wouldn't work out right.  I looked at the woman next to me, working on something quite similar but following the instructions.  I couldn't.  I had to keep trying to do it my way, to find out what would happen.  Perhaps it would turn out.  Perhaps it wouldn't.  My dream self was determined to keep trying.  I just had to put my head down, keep working, and block out those voices telling me it wouldn't work.

This morning I paid extra attention to the conversations with my children.  Was I telling them "no" when I could have been saying "have a go and find out for yourself"?  Where is the line between setting boundaries for them and controlling them.  And what about for ourselves?  Where is the line between self-discipline / adult responsibility and denying ourselves the chance for adventure, for finding out what we can become if we give ourselves a little freedom to explore?  A long-ago friend used to tell me "You know Megan, you have to know your limitations."  His other memorable saying?....  "You musn't limit yourself!" !!!!   Seems he knew a thing or two about the Blair Balance Theory before the phrase was ever coined.

This is what I will be pondering for the next little while.  Can I overcome the fear of the unknown and relative insecurity in order to give myself the freedom to follow the dreams I have held for so long.  Can I stop telling myself that I can't do it and begin believing that I can?  Am a brave enough to let myself "have a go"?  If you're looking for me, that's where I'll be.

What The BBT????!!!!!!!

I am one of those people who generally sees the validity in both sides of an argument.  Call me a fence sitter if you will.  Perhaps it comes from having spent my teenage years passionately arguing points of politics, religion and society with my father, a.k.a. the devils' advocate.  Well, I called it arguing.  Dad called it debating.  It was probably a fair bit of both.

In the middle of a quiet evening he would bait the hook with a wriggly and tastily controversial worm - a comment which he knew would ignite a spark in my idealist mind.  The communists / refugees / unemployed / Catholics / married women in the workforce.....   He had a whole string of them and he knew I couldn't resist the bait.  The worm taken, he would slowly begin to reel me in.

At about this point, those of my family less comfortable with confrontation would quickly and quietly leave the room.  Then it was on.  The wrangling, the tousling, the search for that one point that would convince him that he was being narrow-minded; that he was wrong and I was right.  The best we could ever really hope for was a truce.  Agree to disagree.  If we could.  At worst it ended with us not talking to each other for a couple of hours afterwards.

The absolute beauty of it was that it was a chance for both of us to explore the issues of the time and to find our way to our own truths, to what we could really believe in.  He was arguing the beliefs he had been brought up with and taught not to question.  In his fifties, he had the freedom to question and the help of an opinionated teenage daughter to argue / debate it all with.  A child of the 1930's, he was raised to fear the 'other'; the Commos, the Micks, the foreigners.  He could have become a narrow- minded bigot but he chose to explore the ideas and beliefs he had grown up with, pulling them apart to see what truth there was to them.  And lucky me.  I got to go along on the ride, my bag packed with youthful idealism and in need of a good dose of reality.  Together we fought through so many issues.  Ultimately it was a fight towards open-mindedness and acceptance.  Towards finding the validity in both sides of the argument.

These days, I get a fair bit of flack from a good friend who sees me so often weighing up both sides, looking for the balance.  He calls it the Blair Balance Theory.  Sounds good to me.
Thanks Dad.  Thanks Risto.

In The Beginning

I love to write.  I always have.  From re-writing Cinderella at seven, to the heart-ache and yearning of my teenage diaries, to the sporadic but mind-saving journalling that has seen me through the changes in my adult years, writing has saved me from insanity, calmed me back to reality and given me insight into what I truly want from this life.  When my mind is in turmoil, I write to give me focus.  And it does.   Working through all of the hoopla that spins in my brain until I reach a state of clarity; until I am able to move on with a sense of purpose.  I do not know what my life would be without writing.
So here I am.  At the beginning of a blog and wondering where it will all lead.  A chance to write, to explore what is going around in my head and in my life and to share it with anyone who wants to come along with me. 
At the moment I don't have a clear "mission statement", although lots of ideas.  What I can promise is that there will be lots of crafting, cooking, gardening and celebration of the life that I share with my family and friends.  Quite possibly it won't be all sweetness and light, because life isn't.  We all have our dark times.  It's part of the balance of life.  So sometimes I might go there.  Don't be afraid of the dark. 
Most of all though, I want this to be a record of our days.  Changes are constant and moments and memories are left behind, replaced with new ones.  This will be an opportunity to grab hold of some of those moments and hold onto them a little bit longer.
So jump on board.  No ticket required.