#11 Writing is on the Wall

Last week I promised my soul sister before I left I would help my little brother paint some walls in their house.  With a tiny babe in arms and thousands of breastfeeding hours stretched out ahead of her, she said she’d cope if she just didn’t have to look at the dirty white walls which were now defying the best efforts of sugar soap.  So last night, with a favourite CD playing, we got down to it.  These are the blessings written on the wall in the loungeroom.  And I was amazed at the goodwill and joy a blue wall could bring.

Love you Karen and Pete!

#4 Beginnings


Today we’re celebrating a week of having Joss Tait with us.

This time last week I was with my soul sister, my little brother and my Goddaughter enjoying the arrival of a little boy into our extended families. Joss was born in the loungeroom of his home, by candlelight, with his Dad, big sister, his Mum’s midwife and me in attendance. I look forward to sharing more of the photos from the birth to show the beauty, the powerful and the peaceful nature of homebirth AND why homebirth is the gold standard of maternity care.He arrived after two and a half hours of active labour.

As an aside, found out today a writer I’ve just started working with, is also a homebirth Mum.

#3 Finishing


Today we went to the beach and I goofed around trying to take artsy photos of my feet disappearing in the sand, of the waves dribbling in and all of that.  But today was really marked by finishing The Time Travellers Wife for the second time.

In this picture I’m sitting at a picnic table by the beach reading (and trying hard not to cry in public because it might be OK to laugh out loud on a Melbourne train while reading a Nick Earls book, but there is probably something creepy about bawling your eyes out while reading in a public space) with the onshore breeze cooling my damp bikinis (and equally damp dress) while Dylan played on some play equipment. We’d not long gathered all of our stuff from the beach, where we’d been lying in the shade of a huge tree and frolicking in the sea.

I can’t remember the last time I read a book on (or near) the beach.  Bliss!