2015 . and blogging again

From Sydney. On the go. Nice holiday with family. Will blog properly when you back. In KL..

Work, work, work

Up to my eyeballs with work......

And more to come.........how now.............

J

Another one bites the dust

I can't believe that 2013 is almost over. How did it whizz by? It just felt like January where we were busy with weddings, and then Hong Kong holiday, work, work, work, Kerala holiday, bouts of sickness, work again (inc nice Bangkok project) as well as big school for both kiddoes in September.

Now, 2014 quietly seeps out.

Waiting for a spanking New Year - a fabulous new year awaits.

J

17 July

M's birthday today. Much to be grateful, much to be at peace, much to be truly thankful.

Much.

Years ago

Years ago, when they lived near Wanstead, there was a huge overgrown garden that framed the backyard of the ground floor flat. A lone apple tree stood at the corner, burnished in ripening fruit over the summer. They fell steadily and she watched the daily spoils. After sometime, it became mucky and gross.

There was a big window that framed the garden, looking out to the East. Every morning, a warm sun glowed over them, brimming with joy.

Playdate

I really need to record real life a bit more because I am letting many beautiful, magical days involving the kids dissipate with no memories. Soon they grow up and all that I will have will be fragments.

XXX
Today, we had Ben and Amalie over for a playdate. I barely survived but the kids had a great time.....

It Felt Like Warm, Buttered Toast

She had wondered about sunlight. And twirly, loopy, sunshiny days. Where were those days, she asked as she looked out at the damp, overcast wedge outside the window. 

It made her heart sink to think that the little child was 3 and had never seen a true sunshiny day. What was it like, asked the child. To have never ending sun?

Oh, she said. Lovely. Just undescribably lovely. You feel light and flighty as you watch the sun baking your heart to perfection. It felt like warm, buttered toast inside. 

And best of all, you stay crispy the whole day.

And you don't have to carry an umbrella at all, asked the child?

Not at all. Not on buttered toast days. 

If she had known then what she knew now

She had stood then at the brim of hope. Not knowing that her life would swish by as the drone of work continued to reverberate.

The sky darkened into a gunmetal grey, an ominous rain threatening to drench the afternoon. 

The Emptiness of Night

Last night, she sat up. Weighted by the day.

Mornings are fine. Mornings brim with possiblities. Untapped futures to be stumble upon. Afternoon becomes a little heavier, depending on lunch. And then evening meanders almost suddenly. Pregnant with dusk and leftovers from lunch.

It is the emptiness of night that seems to be the problem. Night gave her no directions.. Every night, she sat up and stared at the window. Trying to find night's meaning.