Thinking of you

I sent two little "thinking of you" boxes to friends last week, inspired by this post on B for Bel. I do enjoy sending letters and packages to friends in the mail. We talk a lot about how email killed post, and say we long for the days of old-fashioned mail. But I'm starting to think that email may have actually saved post.

Once upon a time, letters were something almost depressing, consisting mostly of towering piles of paper bills. Now, most of those bills arrive via email. And in the mail, instead, we send and receive little surprises to and from friends! For me, it's like the removal of those bills from my letterbox created the emotional space to rediscover and really enjoy the mail process.

Here is another adorable mail project. Two friends post one wooden box back and forth to each other, each time filling it with little gifts and notes and ephemera. Isn't that a lovely idea?

The wild rumpus

"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start!" This was the Wilderness festival in Oxfordshire in August, "a celebration of the arts and outdoors in the wilds of England." Shall we all go together next year?

All photographs from here.

These moments

Slow morning ahead of a busy day. Cold air creeps into the room from underneath the back door so we turn the heater on. Ruby is chasing butterflies in the courtyard, Oliver snoozing on the couch.

Music fills the room: Mumford & Sons doing a rather poignant cover of The Boxer that makes me want to cry and dance and sing "lai la lai" all at the same time.

I lie on my belly on the floor beside the still pyjama-clad Madeleine, kicking my sock-feet in the air like I'm ten again. I'm reading blogs. Madeleine's hand as she reaches out to explore the side of my face smells like the spring air in heaven.

So I roll over and kiss her and we take a series of selfies, as girls do.

Little artists and weekend links

This weekend is brought to you by the decidedly unspooky but utterly adorable homemade Halloween costume series from Jordan on Oh Happy Day. It was so hard to decide which costume to show you on here. There are clouds and little French girls and robots and vintage pilots and so many others, but in the end I settled on these wonderful artists. Aren't they just the cutest little troubled geniuses you ever did see? Right down to Frida's monobrow. I die! Costumes like these make me want Madeleine to grow up quickly, so I can dress her in all of them. And then she smiles a toothless smile at me out of her sweet, dribble-covered face and I think DON'T CHANGE in a sudden panic.

Meanwhile, here are some lovely links to take you into the weekend.

* While we're on the subject of Halloween costumes, this dog is too cute for words * A touching story about blogging and connections * What would you say to the you of seven years ago? * This music paints a beautiful picture * Where can I find alpine strawberries in Australia? * A poignant response to the senseless murder of Jill Meagher * Swan wig! Oh yes please * Pip's free printable work-planner * The tastiest optimists v pessimists decider

Happy weekend, and may you have grand adventures and good times!

8 cute and clever designs

If you're one to spend hours on the computer tweaking the look of your blog; designing invitations, business cards or brochures; or just generally playing at making things pretty, I have good news for you! Creative Market opened its doors today. This is an online marketplace for "handcrafted, mouse-made design content," made by independent, creative folks all over the world. Think of it as Etsy for your desktop.

Here are eight of my favourite designs. What are yours?

More content will be added all the time so keep checking back. And if you are pretty nifty with a mouse yourself, you can always open your own shop in the Creative Market. Go here.

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And also, here I am lately on English Muse and iVillage:

Beautiful papercuts The new nesting Cartoons on reading Show someone you care

On stubbornness and storytelling

This little angel and I are embroiled in a battle of the wills right now. And I fear she is both more patient and more stubborn than I am. She spent most of the night last night fighting to stay awake. Not crying, just yelling, relishing the sound of her own voice, crying out "Aaaaa Aaaaa Aaaaa. Aaaaa Aaaaa Aaaaa. AAAAA. AAAAA. AAAAA" with a kind of fierce joy in our bedroom until the echos of her vocal gymnastics quite literally rang in our ears.

That started at 11pm. It is now 8.30am and we haven't found resolution yet. I pray she will go to sleep. Madeleine is exhausted and I am destroyed, but she is absolutely determined not to sleep today. Not if she can help it. Instead, she has a story she wants the world to hear, and she is telling it as loudly as she can.

Madeleine is a talker. She tries to join in on other people's conversations. When we read to her, she mimmicks us as best she can (generally with a stirring rendition of "Aaaaa Aaaaa Aaaaa.") When the nurse at mother's group is giving a talk, Madeleine attempts to drown her out with her very best "AAAAA. AAAAA. AAAAA."

Having a little baby has taught me that some things I had always thought were learned behaviour are actually hard-wired into us. Like putting out the bottom lip when upset, something Madeleine does gloriously well, and which she did for the first time approximately 30 seconds after being born. Same goes for rubbing the eyes with fists when tired (there has been a lot of that going on this morning, by both of us).

The need to communicate is another. Even before she found her 'talking' voice, Madeleine tried desperately to communicate with me; with a chin-thrust, with a gummy smile, with a wail of displeasure. This kid is four months old and I swear she is already up to Chapter 17 of her memoirs.

I believe that story telling, in any format, is fundamental to the human experience. Our need to recap, reframe, and even reinvent our stories for others to hear goes to the core of what it means to be human, and to exist as part of a community. And the stories we tell ourselves are just as important as those we tell to others.

If I think about it, I guess this is the philosophy behind why I became a writer. It is certainly the philosophy that underpins the plot and characters in my book Airmail.

It is also the philosophy behind a summit called The Future of Storytelling, that was held in New York earlier this month. The organisers believe that "stories—in the broadest sense of the word—shape the meaning and momentum of everyday life. Stories will never die, but the ways we tell them are changing."

They commissioned a short film on collaborative storytelling for the summit. It is about how sharing stories can help connect thousands, but also speak just from one person to another. I watched it this morning, and Madeleine joined her voice with these New York voices and, together without knowing it, we celebrated shared stories. And through my exhaustion, I found a kind of solidarity, even beauty, in this knowledge.

Every story that belongs to us, each and every one, shapes who we are and who we will become. This story of my tug-of-war with my daughter through the long, dark hours of the night will lodge itself in my bones now, and in hers. It is part of her and part of me and, by reading it, it has become part of you, too.

Madeleine just started yelling again. I'm back on duty. If you have a moment to spare, friend, make yourself a cup of tea and watch this little video. I hope it inspires you, like it inspired me. And if you want to share a story with me, leave one in the comments or send me an email. It makes my day to hear from you.

story(us) from Already Alive on Vimeo.

(ps. Do you subscribe to this blog? If you do and you haven't redeemed your free copy of Airmail, click here to go for it and I'll post a book out to you. There are no strings, it's just a little gift from me to you to say thanks for your support.)

If not duffers won't drown

Books with maps in the front are the best kinds of books. Am I right? I have been re-reading my way through the childhood classics, of late. I've done Harry Potter, The Northern Lights, Narnia, A Wrinkle in Time and The Owl Service. I've dipped my toes into the young adult worlds of Tomorrow, When the World Began and The Hunger Games. Now, I'm reading the Swallows and Amazons books.

Were these in your childhood? Written in the 1930s, they tell the story of four siblings who head out on a little sailing boat called 'Swallow' and camp on an island all by themselves. There, they meet two more little girls with a sailing boat of their own, 'Amazon,' who call themselves pirates and wage a good, fun war on the 'Swallows'.

These books are a modern mother's worst nightmare. For one thing, the four kids are out on the water without life jackets and without adults. The littlest boy, Roger, is only seven, and he can't even swim. They light fires, carry knives, cook their own meals and camp alone on an otherwise-deserted island. In the second book, their boat capsizes, sinks, and the children have to swim for their lives. And the mother still lets them keep camping alone.

When the children wrote to their father to ask permission to take the sailing boat out to the island, he sent them a telegraph: BETTER DROWNED THAN DUFFERS IF NOT DUFFERS WON'T DROWN. Better drowned than duffers? I think NOT. Madeleine, you can be as big a duffer as you choose. Six times over. Just please don't drown.

Yet there is something glorious about these books. Not only about the freedom and abandon of their adventures. But also of the responsibility that is just assumed children hold: they keep their tents tidy, they share their food rations, the older ones make sure the younger ones get to bed on time (most of the time).

Make a safer world for kids

National Kidsafe Day is coming up on 23 October, a day when we do our darndest to learn about the key dangers facing our children, and figure out how we can keep their precious little lives safe.

Did you know that more children die from injury than of cancer, asthma and infectious diseases combined? I'm talking about accidents that should be avoidable, like falls from windows, drowning in shallow water and strangling on blind cords.

I'm using National Kidsafe Day to educate myself about the environment in which Madeleine will grow up, and what I can do to protect her from accidents and injuries.

But with all this in mind, how do I ensure Madeleine lives a life full of adventure, of exploration, and of independence? How can I find that balance? This is something I think I will spend her lifetime trying to figure out.

Disclaimer:

I am participating in the National Kidsafe Day Bloggers Competition to support and promote child safety, along with the added bonus of chances to win prizes. All opinions are my own and not those of Kidsafe. To find out more or to enter the competition, please visit www.kidsafeday.com.au.

Ode to telegraph poles

You know you're getting something good with a title like that, right?

Do you notice how some things apparently never change? I find it comforting to think that in this world of seemingly-relentless forward motion, some things can be relied upon to stand still (or even go backwards). Take politicians, for example. On the weekend I was in Melbourne and a horse and cart clopped down Bourke Street with a "Vote 1" sign on it for the upcoming election. A HORSE AND CART. You've got my vote, Mr Whoever You Are.

And here is another example. Telegraph poles. They are such a mainstay of our urban landscape that we barely notice them or think twice about them. But while swarms of electricity and wireless data buzz around our ears each day, telegraph poles also provide a comfortingly old-fashioned community service: the notice board.

Where I live, posters on telegraph poles go beyond the mere notification of garage sales and missing cats (which always makes me feel so sad), into the creative, the funny, the affirming and the sometimes bizarre. I kind of like that, don't you? (And yes, one of these was mine, from this project).

Tacos for the time-poor

Last week it was my birthday. It's funny how celebrating my own birth begins to seem a bit redundant now that I have the recent birth of a glorious little one to contemplate. Except in the case of my mother, I imagine. Now that I have actually given birth to a human being, I have a whole new appreciation for how mothers must feel on their own children's birthdays. No wonder some mums go over the top, putting on parties for one-year-old babies that the children won't even remember. I think it's about celebrating the magnitude of that event: "Child, you are REAL. Here you are IN THE WORLD. You are THE SUNSHINE IN MY LIFE. I made you. I grew you. And this day a year ago, IT ALL HAPPENED." I'm totally going OTT for Madeleine when she turns one!

Anyway, I didn't want my birthday to go entirely unmarked, because I've done that in the past and then felt a bit flat later. So I compromised by inviting 10 friends over for a very simple dinner. A very, VERY simple dinner, because I am a new mother with a bub who prefers to be on me like a baby koala, and cries if I so much as lose eye contact with her for too long. I don't have time to make anything fancy.

We planned to have a BBQ in our little courtyard, but the day of the party was one of the coldest and wettest on record for October, so we had to move everything inside, with people perching on the edges of sofas and on cushions on the floor. The animals were locked away in the back of the house, much to their disgust.

The menu

So instead of the BBQ, I cooked up a variety of taco fillings and laid everything out for people to just go to town. There was guacamole and corn chips for our guests to nibble on when they arrived, followed by char-grilled corn on the cob, warm soft tortillas, and assorted fillings like baked fish, spicy mince-meat, oven-roasted capsicum, refried beans, fresh tomato salsa, shredded lettuce, cheese, fresh chilli, fresh lime, and a whole lotta sauces on the side.

Madeleine goes to bed at six every night, and it can easily take me an hour to feed and settle her. Our guests were arriving at half past seven, so I basically had to prepare everything way ahead of time. Once I got myself super-organised, it was pretty easy. I strapped Madeleine into the sling during the day, and off we went. I roasted and chopped the capsicum ahead of time then quickly pan-fried it to reheat it for serving. I cooked the corn in the microwave, then just char-grilled it with some butter and olive oil before serving. I precooked the mince and reheated it in yet another pan to serve. That used up all the space on the stove, so...

I seasoned the fish ahead of time and then just baked it for 10 minutes when everyone was ready to eat. I made the guacamole, the salsa and a crema for the fish, and stored them in the 'fridge. All I had to do after putting Madeleine to bed was stir the various bits and pieces on the stove, wait for the fish to cook, chop the lettuce and grate the cheese. That took 15 minutes tops and I could spend the rest of the night with my friends!

The two definite favourites of the night were the fish tacos and guacamole, so here are my recipes in case you want to give them a try. They are both mega-easy.

Guacamole

(Note: I like my guacamole with a bit of a kick. Go easier on the cayenne and lime if you want a milder taste)

6 avocados 4-6 limes (keep adding to taste) 1 tsp salt 1 tsp ground cumin seeds 1 tsp cayenne pepper 1 bunch chopped coriander 1-2 cloves minced garlic

In a large bowl, coat the scooped avocado pulp in the juice of a couple of the limes and lightly toss. Put the avocado and juice into a blender, add the spices, and blend until smooth. Fold in the coriander and garlic. Taste. Now start adding more lime juice and possibly more spices until you get the flavour balance exactly right.

If you plan on storing the guacamole in the 'fridge, seal it well so the avocado doesn't brown. Pull it out an hour early so you can serve it at room temperature.

Baked fish tacos with coriander crema

For the crema, combine the following ingredients in a bowl and store in the 'fridge:

1/2 cup thinly sliced shallots 1/2 cup chopped fresh coriander 6 tbsp mayonnaise 6 tbsp low fat sour cream grated rind of 1 lime juice of 1 lime 1/2 tsp salt 2 minced garlic cloves

For the tacos, lay out fish fillets on a shallow tray with a little olive oil and a dob of organic butter. My fishmonger recommended allowing about 400 grams of fish for each taco. I used snapper but they didn't have enough, so I grabbed another variety of fish that I can't remember, I just asked that they be flavours that worked together, and about the same size so they would bake at the same rate. It all worked out.

Sprinkle the fish with spices. I used the following:

Four parts ground cumin Four parts ground coriander seeds Two parts paprika One part garlic powder A sprinkling of ground sea-salt and black pepper

Now just bake them in a very hot oven (about 220 degrees Celsius) for 10-12 minutes. When they're done, break them up with a fork and serve them on the tortillas with shredded lettuce or cabbage, a hefty dollop of the crema, and a squeeze of fresh lime.

I completely forgot to take photos of the night, because I was too busy having a good time with all my friends and NOT being tied to the kitchen. So, instead, I bring you some photos of the brand new pop up patch rooftop garden. Madeleine and I sneaked out to take a look at how it was all progressing yesterday and, after saying "I don't want anything for my birthday," I am thinking I might possibly want one of these, after all.

When you say "the price of a coffee a day" I think this garden is cheap as can be. Then I add up $3.50 a day over the course of a year, and suddenly it becomes a very expensive birthday present indeed. If only I could find someone to share the garden with me (hint hint).

Sunday night

Last night friends dropped around to visit and brought pizza with them, so we sat together outside as the sun went down and the twinkle-lights came on and the perfume from the dying first-blooms of jasmine thickened in the night air. I spread the table with a piece of gloriously red Masai cloth that was given to Mr B when he worked in Africa, and filled old jars with tea-light candles for extra light. That was the sum total of my decorating efforts but it put us in a festive mood, so on went the music and out came the wine, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable way to finish up the weekend.

Around us, Ruby chased bugs in the ferns and tried to climb an olive-tree sapling that was much too slender for her weight. Oliver circumnavigated the table begging for pizza, appearing on hind legs beside one person or another like a floppy-eared meerkat.

Later, much later, we managed to get Ruby down from the top of the garden wall. (Can you see her in that bottom photo?)