intentions

This weekend I will

• potter about in the kitchen, moving this, culling that. The blender and juicer are used daily now the weather is warming and they need to be in easy reach. There's been a strawberry smoothie most afternoons with chia seeds and maca powder for energy. Mmm, can't wait for the mangoes!
• make a giant bowl of bircher muesli to last over a few days. It's been lovely to embrace mornings with a bowl of this cool, sweet mix. I use this recipe but replace the cow's milk with almond or rice milk and serve with fresh blueberries. 
• strip the veggie garden, turn the soil over and peruse all the seed packets. Those last few cherry tomatoes, a few leggy kale plants and some rainbow beetroot are all that's left. I look forward to salad leaves, zucchini and eggplant, heaps of basil and heirloom tomatoes.
• find new homes for most of the indoor plants. Sigh. Our littlest love is a dirt and leaf eater and while I wholeheartedly believe in her exploring the world fully, there is only so many times a Mumma can sweep a floor.
• Collect basket loads of fallen jacaranda flowers just because. They'll inspire some weekend creativity, of that I'm sure.
• Sit and read. I've had this on my bedside table unopened for too long.

May your weekend give you some peace, a little solitude and some clarity for the coming week.

Steph x

everyday creative - thoughts of Christmas

 

* The Christmas bush outside my bedroom window as it sheds it's cream Spring garb and tries on the  Summer flush for size. The blush and cream  inspire me as my head starts to slowly fill with ideas of Christmas.  A more fitting colour palette for an Aussie Christmas don't you think?

* Noticing the light on the babies' tree blocks. It's golden and warm but I know only too well that soon it will be harsh and glaring and the accompanying humidity will disrupt our sleep. It's nice to capture it and think of the Summer adventures to come. Over the next few weeks I will hunt  for a large piece of gnarled driftwood. We will sand it back, rub golden beeswax balm into its grain and add it to their natural play space. An arching bridge to another land, a stage, a home for little woollen friends....

* The small beginnings of a nativity scene. While little ones slept a few felts were chosen, and a needle threaded. Before the first stitch was made a little voice called for her afternoon milk. I won't view it as a project abandoned, but merely a first step. All was bundled into a small basket and popped on a shelf within easy reach. Tonight, tomorrow, perhaps on the weekend. Slowly, slowly.

Steph x

the mindful day - windowsill vignette

At dusk I light a candle and hold off turning on the fluorescent light.  In a small corner of my kitchen I watch the flame dance for a moment and survey the backyard; the sky is softening as it begins to give way to dark. Next to the sink a still life of this and that has grown - ephemera from my babies wanderings, wisps of nature, scents, colour, growth...

Behind it, the windows are grimy and flecked with water spots from the many times that little hands are washed here. The compost bucket beneath the sink is starting to smell and there's a pile of dishes waiting, waiting. I see these mundane things and more. I notice them and without judgement I let the thought go. For now, I'm choosing to bathe in the beauty - the first pale pink hydrangea flowers plucked by chubby hands and retrieved before they were gobbled up, smooth leaves and shells in shades of blush and cream, coriander flowers, the greying sky outside and the butcher bird who visits for tit bits come dinner time. From this same window  I've watched sprinkler play and subsequent mud fights, a little boy squint his eyes to the sky at every passing plane.  I've seen the wattle blossoms replaced by grevillea and soon, jacaranda. A seasonal slide show.

I take three deep breaths, notice the tension in my shoulders and pause for a tiny moment. Soon I'll be sauteing onion and garlic with a babbling baby on my hip. Weary bodies will resort to bickering and calm voices will take extra effort. And like any other evening the night time rhythm will unfold and I'll be swept along with the business of it all swaying from task to task seemingly on autopilot.  But here, at this windowsill I'll be mindful of my body, my breath, my home.

So amidst the baskets of washing, the endless meal preparations and clean ups this week, perhaps you could find a little slice of quiet on your windowsill. Find a new home for the bottle of dish washing liquid and replace it with a vase of eucalyptus blossoms, or perhaps a little pot of thyme. An essential oil burner or a candle, a seed pod or a shell; a windowsill vignette to help you slow for a few moments each day, take a few breaths and create a more mindful home.

Steph x