the Wise Robin

summer fade

 

 

A glimpse at our alpine camping trip a few weeks back. We camped by the Kiewa River, heading into the mountains during the day to do some hiking; Wallace's Hut, Cope Hut, Mt. Cope & Mt.McKay. It was a wonderful end to our summer holidays & there's no-one else I'd rather have spent it with than my gorgeous peeps. Niamh did quite a lot of walking for a two year old, frustrating at times, when there are still five kilometres to walk before nightfall & every wildflower just has to be examined. Perfect too as a reminder to keep things slow & mindful. Mt.Cope was by far the best walk, even though there was no sign of brumbies grazing on the moor- like landscape. I love the High Country, feel right at home up there. The landscape, the light, the cool air, the spaciousness all around & the spaciousness it creates in my mind. We all felt a little sad as we drove back into town. We're now back in the swing of things, another high country trip planned in just six weeks. Whoop! While the days are still hot here, the evenings & mornings have cooled right off. The sun is rising later, the evenings draw to a close sooner. I might have even spotted the first leaves turning. There's still plenty in the garden coming into the kitchen, carrots, tomatoes, herbs, zucchinis, the odd strawberry, flowers, onions & corn, but I can't help feeling that there is not much left in her, this glorious summer, the first summer I have deeply & truly fallen in love with.    There is a certain melancholy I feel as each season slows to its conclusion & yet such anticipation & hope of what the next will bring. I wonder if anyone else feels this too?

 

 

 

 

 

flux

 

 

Aah, summer, she's flying by in a whirlwind of heat & humidity, pool evenings, river floats, ice-cream, berries, sunshiny eyebrights, cherry tomatoes, late nights, starry skies, early morning sunshine, cut grass, eucalypt haze, camping, big alpine skies, bush walks, summer reading, frocks & shorts, sun kissed salty skin....I've really tried to embrace summer this year. Her & I don't really have a history of getting on, what can I say, I have Scottish skin. Everything about summer this year, even the heat, perhaps not the flies, I've dived right into. We arrived home yesterday from up in the mountains, a little camping trip before William returns to work, but over the past few weeks we've spent a great deal of time  breathing fresh life into our home by rearranging a number of rooms.  This past year I've been going a little stir crazy without a space to spread my creative wings & art materials. All the books in our front room, which we called the art room but was really just full of books, we're bursting out of their seams & fading with the constant direct sunlight, so I moved them all to our bedroom & created a library& art room. All books, art materials, filing, printer, games & toys are now all in one room, everything at our fingertips! I'm excited because there's a table in the middle of the room big enough for sewing, painting, crafting, blocking knits, linocuts, drawing, thinking, having a cup of tea, playing a board game....& the best part is that I don't have to clear it away so we can eat together. I've been reading Marie Kondo's book about decluttering. I was hearing so much about it & thought it might work to clear the edgy & stifled feeling I was experiencing with all our things. So far I've followed her technique for clothing, books, papers, linen, toys & furniture. Three full carloads & five garbage bags went to the op-shop & a garage half filled with furniture waiting to be sold has come out of this home of ours. The house feels lighter, I feel lighter, it's an amazing feeling. Makes me realise how much stuff we collect over time & how much we don't actually need. That's what I love about camping, the simplicity, a bag of clothes, a small shelter, cooking gear,  nature & each other. Just the basics to think about, without the clutter.  We  ended up moving our room to the old art room, the perfect summer room, two walls of windows, up in the trees, a bed & no more, birds & sunrise waking us up every morning. The girls are now in together, something I pondered for the past year, not really knowing if the age gap would be too much of an issue but for now it seems to be working for everyone. All this rearranging leaves a spare room which Will & I might move into when winter hits. It's been a mammoth task rearranging four rooms & we're all pretty exhausted but it's working & it feels good. I haven't been spending as much time writing here as I'd like to. I try & keep my days screen free for the girls & come evening time when they're in bed, staring at a screen is the last thing I feel like doing. I have been pondering this space & what it brings me & you & whether it's worth the time continuing. I love that it's somewhere I can curate my days & weeks, share what we're up to with friends & family & all of you reading out there. I know I'm not quite done here, but it's not quite right at the same time. Perhaps a little decluttering is what's needed here too. I hope wherever you are you're soaking up the last of the season.

 

 

summer days

 

These summer days are so full. Heat & rain, heavy air, darkened rooms, midsummer, christmas, twinkling lights, journeying north, new years, family, crafting, late nights, summer reading, garden time, friends, intentions, new calendars, fresh diaries, blooming garden, frazzled garden, watering, river time, ice cream, swimming, smoke haze, bushfires, summer spring clean, linen sheets, hot winds, cooler humming, always humming....it's hot, but we've bunkered down, shades drawn, awnings beating off the heat. There's the river & the occasional storm to cool things off. Midsummer seems to come when summer is barely summer. She's only just begum to ease herself into our lives. Christmas & New Year came & went in a fantastic, delicious blur of all that is good & after travelling north & back we're now settling into the rest of our summer. There'll be more pool days & river days, camping, cinema under the stars, gardening, harvesting & a little list of things this Mama wants to do before we begin another year of homeschooling. I hope these first weeks of this new turn around the sun dear friends, find you well & happy & full of peace. 

summer fade

 

 

 

This is the first summer I have truly enjoyed. Summer is not my favourite & I don't think she'll ever be, but it's the first time I've felt myself lament summer's passing. The early morning songbirds, the long days, summer breezes, evening storms, sunshine on bare skin. And just like that March comes along and BAM, leaves are turning, an hour of daylight is lost, our one laying girl is off the nest, there's dew on the grass & cold breezes from the southeast, woodsmoke haze, filtered light, a withering, winding down senescence. Autumn, my favourite is here, but summer, lovely, mild summer that you've been , I will miss you. We've been enjoying our little summer harvest...garlic, beans, beans, beans, tomatoes, capsicums, herbs & just last week, potatoes. I've started cooking meals in big batches to freeze, lasagna, stews, stock. Gosh it makes a difference on those nights we don't feel like cooking. Ta da!  Dinner's ready everyone. Why have I never done this before? And baking, I could apply the same rational to baking. Three cakes at a time. Ta da! Afternoon tea, morning tea, cup of tea time. 

My new year's resolution of simplifying has been working & I feel like we finally have a good, solid, routine happening that's working for everyone. I know things will shift, as they do, & a re-jig will be in order, but right now I'm basking in the flow of our days & the spaciousness I feel I have with time. The feeling is rather new to me, always having felt like there was never enough time in my days to tick those things off my list. I've realised how crucial sleep is to how efficiently I function, maybe that's the key. I'm not sitting down in this space perhaps as regularly as I'd like but I'm still taking photos & that's what is important to me. I feel more in tune than ever with how much energy I have & how much I'm willing to expend on particular aspects of my life. Computer time certainly wasn't up there. I often get asked how our days run as homeschoolers, especially as a homeschooler with a busy toddler. Goodness knows I only have two, there are many homeschoolers out there with many more littles under their feet & I wonder how they do it. I'm certainly no expert on the matter but I thought a little post about our days might be useful for someone out there. Let me know if there's anything you'd like me to include. 

Niamh turns two next week & we've been doing a little planning for this sweet pea chickadee of ours. Part of my plans are a pair of new, woollen mitts which are on my needles as we speak. Knitting & Little Women (the Winona Ryder version) with Zahra. Perhaps some cake and a cuppa. My afternoon is shaping up nicely. 

 

 

 

half light

 

 

A blind banging on the window, a dog barking in the distance, a half moon in the half light. Half light, low light, bright light, sun light. There's been rain, storms, humidity, deafening cicada song as we ride along the river. Earthy, wet, leaf litter strewn across the paths. The river has slowed but she's brimful, always on the move, on and away from here. The moisture, the insects, dripping shadows beneath twisting red gums, thick, green fluorescent weeds, snakes, my imagination drifts to the deep South & alligators. I've spent most of my moments in the half light over the past three years. The half light hours used to scare me when I was younger, not much younger, even in my twenties. Fading light coincided with a churning stomach until it was dark & the lamps went on & then everything was ok. Things change, ever expanding. My most sacred moments now are in the half light. Relishing the faded colours & morning chorus of the hour before the girls rise. Standing up in the yard watching the light fade after the girls are in bed. Resting during afternoon quiet time, the sun past it's peak, drifting away behind the house, dappled light through trees & twining wisteria. Walking, rocking, singing in a darkened room, cracks of light seeping in over the top of the blind, settling, resettling our youngest babe who thrives in the bright light of wakefulness. This summer has been mild. We keep waiting for more scorching weather but it doesn't come. Cleansing wind, doors & windows thrown open. It's the first time I've sunk into this season summer. I usually hide from the heat behind doors & windows shut tight to the sun's arc. I've been simplifying slowly. January started with a clean out, op shop runs, bags of stuff waiting by the door, in the car, on their way out. Now I'm simplifying my energy budget, there simply wasn't enough to go around, an empty bucket & all that. Forced rests in the afternoon in which I slept. If you know me you know that I don't normally sleep during the day, tired as I may be. But these past weeks I've slept every afternoon. No reading, no time here in this space, no 'just doing this, or that', simply sleeping. Bedtime at nine thirty. Rising early in the half light. Starting to read again, The Goldfinch, couldn't put it down. The Penderwicks, with Zahra. Looking for another good read (recommends?). Taking things slowly & liking it. 

 

happy new year

 

 

Happy New Year dear friends. We've had a wonderful break the past month & I hope you all have too. I love New Year even though it's tinged with sadness at saying goodbye to my favourite festival, yuletide. The new year always feels so full of promise, like each new day, but in a much bigger way. Last year I made a lot of resolutions, some achieved, some still being worked on & some not even making it off the ground. I like to dream & hope for big & beautiful things. This new year I want to pare things back, simplify. My heart has rested on two intentions. To work on growing my mindfulness in what & how I speak to myself & others, & to try my darndest to just roll with whatever the universe throws my way. I've spent a lot of time pushing against things the past few years & it's tiring. I've already started simplifying our home, emptying cupboards, wardrobes, play spaces, our art room of things that we don't need, use or want anymore. Off to the op shop we go. Our home already feels like it's breathing more freely, we have more room & less dust bunnies. Do you like to set intentions for the year? I wonder about all that positive energy out there fuelled by peoples hopes & dreams.

The river is high and ambling on its way as we head down most evenings to escape the heat. The cooler's been buzzing non stop for the past five days as the indoor temperature slowly creeps up. There's been no sign of the forecast storms, each day dawning brilliantly bright, the haze settling in not long after the sun is up. Despite the heat we've been out on the trails. Niamh is hearing cicada song for the first time. She stops in her tracks and asks "wat's dat?" Beetles my chickadee. And so now all insects have become beetles to her. "Beedle, beedle" she chants. Both girls have been sleeping in & I've been waking early, lying starfish in bed listening to the five am chorus. It starts with the littlest birds, the thornbills & weebills. Not long after the silver-eyes & blackbirds join in & then it's the wattle birds, honeyeaters, magpies & sometimes kookaburras. We have a sweet pair of grey fantails visit us in the evenings, zipping around the garden catching bugs & eyeing us cautiously. After dinner we head out into the frazzled garden. William thought I was watering, I thought William was watering & so it goes. We lost a few things & everything else has bolted throwing off green or white umbrella heads. I pulled the last of the carrots, leeks & lettuces. I'm consoled by the fact that the tomatoes are ripening, we've eaten our first batch of sweet basil pesto & we now have a more comprehensive irrigation system. I do think though that there is something therapeutic, some days, about hand watering. I used to say that too about washing dishes until we got a dishwasher.  Some afternoons I get too cabin feverish & head out in the heat regardless. On solstice Zahra & I harvested our garlic. She pulled about three head then declared it too hot & retreated indoors. I ploughed on & we now have ninety seven head of garlic in the pantry. Not bad if I do say so. I tried the old french garlic braid thing so I could hang them decoratively in the kitchen but the stalks were too dry & I was too impatient. At night we lie awake listening to the buzz of the fans & hear the possums sniggering under our windows as they head out for the evening.

The girls were thrilled with their new ladies, Miss Phyllis Mouse & Miss Dandelion Doe. Niamh calls Phyllis, Physhus, & Miss Dandelion & Juniper Kitty have both been seeing the sights from Zahra's bike basket. I've finally admitted to myself that I took on too much Christmas sewing this year...the two ladies & their accompanying wardrobes, a nighdress & a couple of peasant tops for Zahra, christmas decorations as presens for Zahra's teachers & our own decorations for the tree. I always seem to pick the really fiddly, invovled patterns. Every spare moment I had it was stitch, stitch, cut, cut & if I wasn't doing that I was thinking about it. Then our vac blew up so we ate dinner surrounded by fabric off cuts & pins, cotton trimmings & scissors each evening. Still, everyone was thrilled with their stitched gifts. Next yuletide I will simplify on the sewing front.

Now, three six five. Wonderful & challenging & time consuming & rewarding. Would I recommend it or do it again? Hmm. If we had another baby, definitely. I am however pondering the 52 project. One portrait a week for a year. Jodi sums up beautifully everything I want to say about the 365 project. How I learnt so much about photography, my gorgeous girls, the light in our home, when to engage & when to put my lens down. There were days when I lamented taking on the project but I'm ever so happy I did. I've captured an amazing year of growth & change with my girls & disproved a belief I've had in myself that I fail to carry things through to completion. Just something someone said to me once. It's funny how we take these things on. I'd love to make a movie for each of my girls with the images & I'm already contemplating a hard cover printed album. I'll take it as it comes because right now I'm focusing on that new year intention of simplicity. 

Happy 2015 friends!

 

 

 

 

 

it's beginning to look a lot like...

 

 

 When the hills are clothed in honeyed straw, the gum trees hang loose in the midday heat and sticky mango juice drips from our chins. When bare foot in the garden is not an option because of bindis & the compost heap is high with another round of lawn clippings. When the jacarandas bloom and evening storms break the day's humidity. When Bing, Nat, Frank and Michael come to stay for a month, crooning us through this month of December. When the tree goes up and the smell of fresh pine fills the house. When the Christmas books are brought out and pored over. When I'm elbow deep in felt and thread and needles and notions, when late nights become later the closer we get to summer solstice. When the windows sit tight during the day and are thrown open at night, the slightest inkling of air breezing over skin, bringing sleep. When the last of the year's school work is packed away and Mama lets out a big sigh. When the berries ripen and we head to the orchards. When the days speed up and we hurtle toward another year, then it begins to look a lot like Christmas. 

Well hello there! It feels like it's been a while since I've really been here in this space. Thankyou so very much for all your lovely words about my Nanna. We're all winding down now. William has two weeks of holidays starting this weekend and we're finishing up school this Thursday. How wonderful it feels. It has been a challenging year for me in so many ways, becoming more creative with our homeschooling routine to fit in with a certain busy toddler, broken arms and all the physio, fracture clinic, osteopath appointments that came along with it, dealing with sleep deprivation like I've never felt before, feeling isolated & craving more time to stretch my own wings, my nanna & pop passing. But I'm not going to lament any of this because we're all busy, we've all got stuff going on & now it's my favourite time of year (as opposed to my favourite season) & William will be home for two whole wonderful weeks & then it will be solstice & Christmas. It's a time of endings and beginnings. The heat is only just beginning to wind up, the garden is flourishing, we have more time for crafting and being together. The days are long but will soon begin to shorten, we'll spend more time swimming. I'll start thinking about what to knit with the wool I've been spinning, evenings will be spent down at the river. My mind will be free of school and classes and early nights and being super organised just for a while. Oh how I love this time of year, giving and sharing, traditions and lists and friends and family. It's just started raining again after another humid morning & Zahra's cello lesson has been cancelled for this afternoon, so a cup of tea and some more Christmas stitching it is! 

 

 

 

 

 

and just like that...

 

 

 

 

 

...flannelette is swapped for linen, feathers for cotton & wool for bare skin. The swollen days of spring have deflated in a frazzle with the heat. French onion soup was the last for the season, we've moved onto salads. I always forget how short spring is here, the heat taking me by surprise every year. The shell pool has been dragged out & dusted off, the girls spending the long evenings playing while I get the washing in or water the garden. The dog lies spawled on the floor panting, panting, always panting. Shhhh, just for a few moments Kaya girl. The flies buzz at the back door waiting to be let in while I prep the evening meal. "Be quick with the door girls" I have to remind constantly. Heat makes me cranky. More to the point anything over 31 degrees leaves me like a floppy fish. The doors and windows are shut tight again until next March & we fidget while waiting for the biting sun to lower his gaze so we can head to the pool. Our movements become restricted to the few hours before nine o'clock & after four, which become between the hours of eight & seven during the hottest heat of January, February. I see tradies & people jogging & wonder what they're doing, don't they know they could evaporate just like that? William heads out on his road bike with his Italian skin. Some days I feel that this land & I were never meant for each other. My complexion is much more of the Scottish Highland or windswept moors type. Summer here is sort of a thief, she steals time & energy, but gives it back as an appetite for good weather & woolens. The garden is humming along though. Carrots, celery, spring onions, snow peas, parsley, cornflowers & calendulas. Capsicums & more salad greens have gone in. My next move... pumpkins, tomatoes & a forage garden for the chooks. I've started researching honeybees & bantam chook breeds. We'd love to have bees by next spring & need to boost our feathered flock. We lost Anouk not long after Stella a few weeks back & now we have just three girls, with only one layer. Not really enough for a family of four that eat eggs every day. They've settled into their new run, Annabelle, our man hen, quite content to crow from the top of the compost heap every morning.  I've been spinning, albeit with sweaty hands, & wrapping up a few photography jobs. The last one at a local gallery where I was humbled & fortunate to be using studio gear again. With that etheric mantle free from the girls for a few hours I walked away feeling like I haven't in so long. Enlivenend & energetic & inspired. I'm asking the universe to deliver more of that. ...and just like that, dare I mention it, Christmas is around the corner. I have Miss Dandelion Doe and Miss Phylis Mouse queued up for the girls but other than that my thoughts on Christmas have been fairly few and far between. How are your ideas on Christmas shaping up? Do you manage the seasonal transition with grace or like me end up like a floppy fish?

handwork

62/365

 

 

when the cold winds blew down off the mountains after it snowed a few weeks back, we decided it was time to pull out our wool and sticks. i've cast on for the girls winter woolies and zahra has started on her own little project. we've been knitting together in the afternoons while niamh naps. chatting... or not, just enjoying each others company and the quiet that fills the house when our littlest is usually asleep.  

 

 

 

 

dancing feet

61/365

 

 

she's got dancing feet

mornings

60/365

 

 

good morning

 

 

a march summer

59/365

 

 

 

zahra really wanted a basil seedling when we went to the nursery. i know summer's just about done but i'm as hopeful as this girl of mine. fresh pesto, cherry tomatoes, homemade pasta , dinner out in the yard....it's summer summed up. and i figured those red gardening gloves she wanted too, would be easy to spot in amongst prunings, under bushes and in long grass...we always seem to be one glove short.

 

 

 

 

 

 

my girl

58/365

 

 

 

 

remember

58/365

 

 

it's a sensation i always want to remember...the silky, softness of her peach fuzz hair. running my hands gently over it as she nurses, touching my nose lightly to it when she sits in my lap, it's scent, the way it becomes luminous when the light is right.

 

 

frock

57/365

 

 

helping mama hang laundry in her party frock. 

 

 

little gardener

57/365

 

 

any mama out there would know that all littles at one time or another are budding soil connoisseurs

 

read

56/365

 

 

it's usuaully the first thing she picks up in the morning and the last thing we do before bed. she'll often read the last chapter first and the same book more than once. she rememebers tiny details  from books we read together years ago. sometimes i find her late at night with her torch and my childhood copy of elves and fairies 

 

 

soon

56/365

 

 

always hanging out at a window or a door, checking things out, longing to be out in it.

"soon baby girl, soon"  i tell her.

soon the weather will be cooler.

soon you'll be steadier on your feet.

 

breathe

55/365

 

 

our morning breathing out... up in the bush. it's how we like to start our days before we sit down to do some work and breathe in. it's a rhythm that works for our little family and our homeschool days. a balance of activity and rest, easy and beautiful, but also one i forget sometimes. the kids soon remind me through their behaviour, and off we go again...breathe in...breathe out.

 

 

numbered

55/365

 

 

down at the river in time for sunset.  our slow summer evenings feel numbered, the season is waning and the golden light of autumn will soon fill our days. overnight snow in the mountains blew a fresh wind our way and i was left rummaging for warm clothes, sorting through what fits, what goes to the op shop, what is needed. i fell down the ravelry rabbit hole and resurfaced with some patterns for the girls.  friday night knitting season is now open.

 

 

 

 

 

down at the river

54/365

 

 

icy cold from snow melt, but so revitalising. i finally took the plunge and had my first dip for the season, which is nearly over. i think next summer when we have those long stretches of february days above forty, we'll be heading here. 

i'll be unplugging for the next week. i'm loving this project and will keep up the daily photos but will post at the end of the week. my brain's a little frazzled. 

 

in the garden

53/365

 

whenever zahra heads into the yard these days it's to tweak her fairy house. a new bedroom here, a leaf swing there.  

"mama do you think the fairies will visit?"

 

 

you know it's time to mow the lawn when your baby girl gets lost in the paspalum.

 

friday

52/365

 

 

my day began like this... with the girls still asleep

 

the girls woke. there was a bit of this.

 

 

a lot of this...stashing goodies in cheeks

 

 

"who me?"

playing innocent

 

we ended our friday riverside, catching the last of the suns rays

 

 

 

 

happy friday to you

silk

51/365

 

 

i've mentioned before how much this girl loves her silks. we've slowly been adding to our collection, year after year. a silk for a birthday gift, a silk for a stocking stuffer, a silk for language arts storytime. both my girls love them. today zahra brought our silks outdoors and hung them in the old peach tree... letting them stretch out and flutter in the breeze. i keep waiting for the moment when these simple playthings become redundant for my older girl. when they've been hanging on their stand for some time, without being used, i wonder if this moment has finally come, and then...there they are.

 

 

 

seriously

51/365

 

 

very serious silk play

it may not look like it here but this little loves her silks as much as her big sister

 

summer evening

50/365

 

 

evenings in the garden

 

 

ooh

50/365

 

 

ooh...her favourite sound at the moment

 

 

mornings

49/365

 

 

now that early morning tennis has finished up we decided we liked the early starts and have been heading to the park first thing. 

 

 

first time at the park. i've been delaying it for obvious reasons most mother's would know...endless swing pushing, "watch me's" and tantrums over leaving, of which this now eleven month old is already having some real doozies. all i'm saying is that as mother's we must pick our moments carefully. here she is, taking it all in, watching her big sister.

 

 

summer days

48/365

 

 

it feels like the summer days are slowly winding down. some nights there is the faint hint of a chill in the air. doors and windows have been thrown open once more as the scorching heat of this season, for me the hardest season of the year, fades. once again the neighbourhood has come alive with joggers, cyclists, dog walkers & children. the kids on our street hang outside in the evenings playing handball, street tennis & riding their bikes up and down. it's a memory i carry from my childhood.  the neighbourhood kids, all playing together out on the streeet. we'd stick pieces of cardboard in our bike spokes with pegs to get a 'cool' {ha} flap, flap, flap sound as we rode around the block, then bemoan being dragged in for tea by our mums, only to do it all again the next day. it's funny the little things we remember from childhood. the sap from the wattle tree in our drive that i'd pretend was bubble gum {tasted disgusting}. the orange & black bull ants in the front yard that made walking around in bare feet difficult. our funny little metal letter box that i could bend over & watch recoil time & time again {much to my mum's aggravation}. swinging around & around on the end of the hills hoist { something that also didn't impress my mum}. the patch of feverfew that grew by our back porch.  the mottled green of the pittosporum hedge that we always took our family photos in front of. the pattern on my bedroom curtains. the sound of the washing machine late at night as i lay in bed. the way i'd pretend i'd washed myself when mum came in to check on me in the bath { she sooo would have known, i know that, now that i'm a mama}. the way she could hear my sister & me whispering from the loungeroom through closed doors. digging in the back garden for grey puss's bones. the old house across the road with an overgrown garden that we swore a witch lived in. the mornings it snowed & we'd skate in our school shoes on the driveway. the night police lights flashed outside when the guy across the road could take no more of life. a pale yellow pair of terry towelling shorts {i loved those shorts}. the creek at the end of our street and the mad dash to get our tennis balls before they'd roll all the way down there. the atutmn colours of the liquid amber in our back garden....little things that make up the patchwork memory of childhood. i wonder what memories zahra will have when she grows up.

 

 

slowly, slowly

48/365

 

 

this is where it's at these days...hanging onto mama's skirts. taking a few steps here, a few steps there. not independent or mobile enough to stray far. i had forgotten how much little ones slow down your days. when  i'm not overly tired and my patience pockets have something left in them to give, i revel in the slowness, the mindfulness it brings, the little things that become noticeable.