Quetzalcoatl

It's Thursday again. I've just turned my phone over - so I don't get disturbed - and I'm looking out onto my garden. It's pretty wet. Again. It seems to be raining non-stop at the moment. But I'm here, on the dining room table and it's quiet. The girls' highchairs are either side of me and I miss them but I'm also glad to have this time of calm. Oscar is out buying wood for our wood store and the buggy park we're building. Our house constantly evolves to make it better when living with children. The paddling pool is all folding in a heap on the patio and I've barely even had the time to register it...whoops. Anyway, this week, I've been focusing on selling tickets for the Parent Village Christmas shindig at the local Gin Bar. After dropping off June with Nanny and Bampy this morning, I tried to stop at a local honesty cafe but it's only open at the weekends so my idyllic, picturesque place to do some writing was replaced with a feelin...

I am writing. I am writing. I am writing.  I am finally writing. There is something about this act of scratching a surface with thoughts and ideas. Albeit, this surface is my laptop called Surface, not my notebook, but I'll take anything right now.  My last post was a long time ago and my whole being has shifted. Two children; aged three and a half and one and a half take up most of my time. As well as weaving my partner’s lives in and out of everything: making sure we knit well together. They are wonderfully exhausting. Motherhood continues to be the biggest oxymoron of all.  I am not sure where this post is going but to just update this blogosphere with my utterings.  I now have one morning a week (Thursday mornings) where I can sit by a river and knit my best friend baby's jumpers, or meet people, or eat in peace, or be alone, or do anything that the day might need me to do. It's heaven. I have needed this so badly that I've forgotten what it was like to be alone....