JOURNAL
documenting
&
discovering joyful things
Lilac tinted summer
We got home from Melbourne last weekend to discover the jacaranda trees were in bloom up and down our street. Aren't they just summertime special?Home sweet home
Grand adventures were had indeed, but by golly it's good to be home. And it's good to have a real home to come home to. Yar, 'tis bad grammar but good a feeling. Please excuse me, I'm 50 hours without sleep.
I missed you, too. I'll be back in bloggy touch soon!
Yours truly, Naomi
ps. How amazing and inspiring were my guest bloggers? I'm so honoured that they contributed to my site, and I hope you had a chance to check out their wonderful blogs. Thank you again ladies! Nx
New season's resolutions
It's spring! Winter is finito and today it is spring! Tra la la la la. I knew it was coming, I just knew it. Got the hint when baby leaves started appearing on the old grape vines, plumb trees blossomed, and banks of wattle exploded with gold, seemingly overnight. And now, even the calendar says it's official.
I have many, many resolutions for the spring, and I'm making myself accountable to you:
* Plant herbs and a little vegetable patch in my garden * Ride my old yellow pushbike to the beach for a picnic * Find an organic farmers' market for all non-homegrown produce * Write 30,000 more words on my novel (10,000 a month) * Exercise more to shed the blubber acquired from eating lollies in a bad job * Related to the above: start doing yoga. And actually keep it up * Don't leave a single magazine deadline to the last minute * Eat more meals outside * Get uber organised and start planning for Christmas * Learn how to take proper photographs with a 'real' camera * Related to the above: take lots of photographs while in Europe * Start a cooking scrapbook of favourite (tried & tested) recipes * Volunteer for Mr B's charity to help get all his comms set up * Find another local charity and become a regular volunteer * Keep fresh flowers in the house all the time * Don't waste the lemon-tree bounty. Make lemony goodies to share * Become a tourist in my own town, & explore my new home by foot, bike & car
Spring or autumn, what are your new season's resolutions?
Mr B + the old lady at the supermarket
(Image via)
She was perched on the little brick window-ledge beside the entrance to the supermarket, with a dinged-up walking frame next to her and a tin box for tickets and change on a fold-up table in front.
The sign said Raffle and her name tag said Pat Somebody.
"It's for Christchurch," she told us. We pooled our change and discovered we had $10 between us, so we purchased 10 tickets.
"Have you ever been to Christchurch?" she asked as Mr B filled out one ticket after another. Yes, he told her he'd been and it was lovely.
"I never been," she said. "I hear it is beautiful. But we gotta help them after that earthquake."
We agreed. Mr B went on filling in tickets. She said again, this time to herself, "I never been."
The old lady wore the front part of her shoulder-length, grey hair pinned back with little clips, just like you'd put in the hair of your daughter on her first day at kindergarten. Her cheeks were very rosy.
We asked if she'd had a good response to the raffle, and she said "Oh, yes! It's been very busy." And then possibly by way of explanation, she said, "It's a big basket of fruit and all kinds of foods. Very, very good."
Mr B finished filling in all the tickets, and handed the book back to her. The sly fox, he'd put the old lady's name on all the tickets, instead of our own. Once she understood, she was over the moon. Her grin was ear to ear.
As we left, Mr B said "I hope you win, Pat," and the old lady called out to us across the car park, "So do I!" We could hear her laughing and it made us laugh, too.
Mr B does these thoughtful little things all the time. It's why I love him so much.
Well, one of the reasons.
Best. Workspace. Ever.
My favourite room in our new house is definitely my study.
It is my very own, a square room with soft seats under the window for reading (or dozing, if you are Ruby the cat), a lovely old fireplace, a clean desk in the middle of the room for writing, and another desk for my artsy, crafty, projects. I have a little pin-board on which I stick notes, letters, photographs, sketches, and all kinds of other found paraphernalia that may bring comfort or creative sparks (or both).
Behind the big desk is a wall of shelves filled with the reference books I use most for writing, and items that inspire me like my film cameras, snow globes, my grandmother's typewriter, and a little barometer that belonged to my other grandmother (when the weather is dry, a lady comes out of the cottage; when the weather is wet, a man comes out and bares his chubby, white knees).
For years, I have worked from the kitchen table or the living room, so this room feels like the greatest possible luxury, and I love it.
What is your workspace like? What luxury do you dream of having?
Lovely clusters on my hearth
Cluster of little vintage glass bottles from The Design Villa (arrived by mail today). Clusters of lavender, snowdrops and mandarin blossoms picked from my new garden in Adelaide. Cluster of sweet, homey, happy feelings all mine.Yellow!
Yellow, clockwise in a pretty spiral:
1. The colour of today's gloriously scented lemon harvest, taken from the tree in my back yard and carried inside in my butterfly skirt, and with which I will make lemonade, and this lemon meringue pie 2. The colour of some lovely vintage fabric that arrived in the mail today, all the way from Pixie Dust Linens in Texas 3. The colour of winter berries, thick and glowing in trees that line an entire avenue on my walk home through the Parklands (and from which nesting birds dive-bomb my head) 4. The colour of my 1970s Speedwell ladyframe bicycle, parked among the sweet lavender as I took a break on today's afternoon ride 5. The colour of my toes, all dressed up and ready for spring. Spring, which starts in two days. TWO DAYS, people 6. The colour of the book I am reading right now, The Magnificent Meaulnes by Alain Fournier. Isn't this a glorious yellow cover? 7. The colour of the picket fence and sun-warmed sandstone at the front of my house, about 15 minutes before the rain came down 8. The colour of the little candy flowers I put on top of the three-dozen cupcakes I made for Mr B to take in to his workmates as a treat 9. The colour of the very first, early-season mango
Yellow, the colour of sunshine. The colour of happy.
What colour are you loving today?
Radio silence
(Image via)
Sorry for the radio silence, I am moving house. I am moving States. It is pouring with rain and I don't have a car. Lots of our things were broken in transit from storage. I'm missing some furniture. I am hungry and I have no food, although the 'fridge is now connected. The carpet cleaner is here right now and I forgot to take out cash. There are 525 unread posts in my Google feed reader. But our house is absolutely beautiful. I'll be back soon!
Yours truly, Naomi
Good thing, bad thing
Good thing:
Good thing:
Bad thing:
Good thing:
What's good and bad in your life, dear friends?
My people (the cafe test)
Image via fat owls
There's a bit of a theme going on in my blog lately, about home and where to find it.
I'll try and make this the last one for a little while, but the essence of the discussion is this: if you have loved ones scattered all over the world, and you no longer live where you grew up, and you have moved many, many times (across towns, across states, across countries, even across hemispheres), where is "home"?
I don't have a town I call "home" any more, and it confuses me.
Recently, over dinner, a friend said something that resonated:
"If you can sit alone in a cafe and look around at the other customers and think 'these seem like my people. I want to know them more,' you've found somewhere to rest your bags."
We are moving to another state, yet again, in one week. I hope I find a place with "my people" in Adelaide. No doubt I will drink a lot of lattes on this quest.
How about you? What says "home" to you? How do you find "your people"?