You, me and the kitchen sink

Today's kitchen is all the way over on the other side of the world.  We have Rachael's kitchen in Scotland.

My name's Rachael, I'm 22 and I live in Scotland with my husband and 4 month old daughter. I have recently started a blog at happydoings.blogspot.com

Here's my kitchen. It's very small but I really like it. The last flat we lived in had an open plan kitchen/lounge so it's nice to have a

Rush hour at our home

  I took this photo just 30 minutes ago after I let the chooks out for the day.
There is an air of serenity in our backyard.  It's aided by the weather, wandering chooks grazing on green grass, the sound of unseen birds calling from the rain forest and the knowledge that here we can support our passion for home grown organic food.  We spent much of yesterday morning outside.  Hanno planted and

Some reading for your weekend

If you're after some weekend reading, go no further than this list at The Long Thread.  It's full of charming blogs, thoughtful and fun projects and many things to keep you interested. 

I hope you have a lovely weekend.

You, me and the kitchen sink

Today's kitchen is Libby's in Woolongong Australia.  Woolongong is just south of Sydney.

Libby writes:
"I love my kitchen - I designed it myself (I used to work as a Kitchen Designer) so everything is just how I wanted it. My sink looks into our family room and out to the vegetable garden. And the main orientation from the kitchen, when I'm preparing food, is outside. We've been in

There Are Moments and Miracles

There are moments.
Aha moments! I'll never forget the look on her face moments.
My world will never be the same moments.

Darling daughter has many assignments in her studio art classes.
She was welding a hot air balloon earlier this week.

While video chatting last evening she said "Mama, I want to show you something."
With the sweetest of smiles she pulls a large canvas into view and there I am:
17 years old, my Senior Year photo painted onto canvas.

Darling daughter had taken to college a coveted old sewing tin from my Great Aunt.
In it were small treasures, mementos from home,
and squirreled away in there I suppose was this picture.
In the photo, I am a year younger than she is now and it is not difficult to see
that she is my child, my likeness, and yet, not me.

Of all the images in the world to paint for an assignment, darling daughter chose this one,
and even added a few letters of my HS nickname Rennie in the corner.
Peculiar she would do that since it was discussed pre-birth as a possible name
for her ...along with Paisley, a paternal name, also considered.
I have been thanked many times for NOT using that one.

I will never forget this moment. Her peeking behind the canvas,
holding it up so I could see the entire piece on my computer screen,
all the while saying "it's not finished, but I wanted you to see."

What I saw was,
my darling daughter seeing me.
Not just as her Mom, not just a middle aged, often poorly dressed,
occasional authoritarian figure, with jiggly bits and double chins.
She saw me as we all can see ourselves with eyes closed and hearts open.
17 and beautiful, bursting with dreams and plans.
That summer of 7o I don't yet know that
many of those dreams will come true and many of them won't.
I don't know that I will be so blessed with my children
and will mourn both parents passing way too soon. I am frozen in time,
unaware that hearts really can and do shatter, but keep on beating out a new rhythm.

There are moments when you feel your children inside your heart
as you felt the movements inside the womb.
Tangible, thumping, beating, a living part of you.
I see my child as the young woman she is, as the little girl she was,
as the woman she is becoming. The miracle is; she sees me.

She told me as she worked on the canvas there were difficult areas
she struggled with and she was able to go to a mirror
and study the length and breadth of her nose, of her brows, to copy.
The miracle is; she sees me in her, and wanted to capture the moment.

Autumn in the garden - and the most asked question

There are certain times during the year when the air temperature is so mild and gentle we seem to blend into the natural environment and become part of it.  It was like that yesterday.  Late in the afternoon, as I was making dinner, I noticed Hanno was outside planting and watering.  I grabbed my camera and went out to join him.  There was no breeze, the air was neither cool nor warm, the

Must Be the Rain

There is a large birdhouse trellis under there.

Can you see it?

These little white charmers are new this year.
They seem to like their new home.

New cilantro and parsley garden being invaded

In 2 months this baby will be over 4 ft high and equally wide.

Love the metals in the garden

Roses hidden in the shadows. So much foliage this year.
We've had a full year's worth of rain in 3 months.

Dozens of these babies ready to burst into bloom

I have been blogging frequently about the garden this year, much to my surprise.
I don't think of myself as a gardener, though I've always tinkered.
( and cruelly sacrificed many a plant in my day)

But lately everything is doing so well; the deep greens, glossy leaves,
larger and fuller blooms are everywhere.Perhaps the grass that I recently removed,
absorbed too much water all those years and starved all the other plants.
Something has changed, because I can still be neglectful.

It must be the rain.