1000 Gifts - Glass Peony Plays the Sax



The more I thank, the more I see to be thankful for.
The more I set myself on the path of gratitude, the further from ungratitude I find myself.
This week has been delightful.


79. He came home.


80. He spoiled me ;)

81. I have a house. I got time this week to potter and love on the stuff around me, grateful for the story it tells, the casual, beloved pieces that sit and receive my smiles. I may live in a rental property that is does not 'speak my language' but I am able to make a haven none the less, some place of peace, restoring heart to those who fill my home. My husband walked in from airports, hotel rooms and offices. He walked into birdsong, fragrance and the arms of green, homespun grace and sat suitclad and mute, on the bridge back to home and whole. This is family.




82. For this little chap that the children discovered in the bottom of the garden.

83. For the profound activity of building.

84. For time with my sister and making inspiration boards to lay heart-vision. This now hangs on the wall over my desk and gives me much to rest my eyes on in between the words.

85. For rainwater that my two big girls carried in for me to rinse my hair with. They want to see out how soft and shiny it will be after I'm done. No pressure Mum...

86. For sprigs from the bottom of the house; humble perfume to sit in the sun and fill my senses with the morning.

87. For a place to give voice to both the little and big girls in me. May it always be the sound of truth, and shibboleth, a flow or torrent of life.

This week has been leaping with words such as sweet silk, light and courage; glass, peony and blossom; healing and living. Falling notes from a saxophone, the pages of a great book on love, the warmth of spring. It is a dance and the glory keeps shining off drops in the heart of the bloom.

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Duck bread

i ♥ warm spring afternoons,
living near a park and strolling down with bag of bread
to watch this girlhood captivated by simple nature.



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Sparkling Buckets of Daughter Joy - 1000 gifts cont...



Gratitude sometimes has to be wrung almost desperately out of the soggy rag that I use some days to mop up the puddle in the bottom of my boat.

Today has been no exception. With my fellow sailor away for the week in Asia, I awoke to the slaughterfield of three cats versus one bird. It was not a pretty sight, feathers are the least of it. I shall not divulge more horror than that, other than to say, it was a close call to swooning with the sheer outrage that these cats deliver me gross offerings everytime Greg goes away. In my gagging, rubber gloved, vacuum-wielding frenzy, I resolved to become a cat-free family. To add insult to injury, Mishal had previously unwittingly headbutted me powerfully in the face while I lay unsuspecting in bed. I felt the crunch of my cartilage and my feet kicked involunarily while I cradled my face, spurting blood and sobbing with the pain. No harm was really done, other than to my white duvet cover and a mulitude of wet facecloths that my terrified children brought to me. It is tempting to crawl into a cabin of pity but instead I will wring each drop of jaw-dropping thankfulness out of the swill that wants to capsize me and allow myself to be emptied and dried out in the Sonshine.

66. For her birthday we took Mish to the aquarium. Besides being terrified of the penguins, she had a wonderful time watching the fish. I am thankful for those smooth gliding forms of the underworld - for Creation and the creatures of the oceans.


67. For Barney and the inspiration that made me melt. She lovingly danced with each of the inflatable penguins in this box and sang loudly to all of them "I love you, you love me, we a 'appy family". She ended each song with a wet kiss to the end of each beak.

68. For the feeling I get in my tummy when I looked back and saw her walking, looking up at her daddy. For great dads.

69. We then moved to the beach. For toes, sand and sun.

70. For the smile I got when she realised how small she actually is after all.

71. For the arms of another, bigger and stronger to cradle us when the waves crash over our feet and threaten to wet our hemlines.

72. For holding on.


73. For J O Y. This little girl has it in buckets, she reflects it but just doesn't know it. Her smile is often lost but my gratitude is there for the way she is sensitive in her acknowledgement of disappointment and delight.

74. For walking as guardian parents, one either side of this dear treasure of our own little family.

75. For the three mini ladies gifted to us, each gifted with such passion and sparkle for life.

76. For the promise of going happy places.

76. For humour; I can still hear their shouts of laughter as they played...like children. Long may it last, for it paints gold onto the heart of a mother. Kenzie is impish and gurgles with happiness when she is allowed to frolic - approaching the teen years but embraces young fun with readiness. For that I am grateful.

77. For sisterly love. Loud, obnoxious and violent at times but when the time is right, rich in easy companionship.

78. For a world of possibilites awaiting the dip of a silver oar; a response to the notion that the wind is actually meant to be tugging on your skirt and your hair. For living brightly under a sky that is never-ending with opportunity. In that light and that of love, I am profoundly ashamed of my petty niggles today. I have flung my sail high and am hearing the tide, feeling the lurch of the boards at my feet, and responding to the inner call to live big today.


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Bangle Winner


So, the winner is the lovely Paige.

Paige, send me an email with your address and the words you prefer and I will order this and send it off to you. Well done :)

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Little Miss Happy

Two today, my baby.
The one who was sought after, whose name means
inquired of by prayer.
The one who has been the source of joy and
whose brilliant blue eyes are like pieces of the sky.
I love to hear her laughter.
She sleeps in her own proper bed (like the big girls)
but still falls asleep holding Piglet and Bubba, one tucked into each arm crook,
with her cup of rice milk wedged in the middle.
She loves Bo on the Go and The Wiggles,
with her cup of rooibos tea,
She loves back tickles and her toenails painted,
She is addicted to the trampoline and the hammock.
She plays with her sister's barbies (sometimes likes to eat the tiny bits),
her dollies, her plastic tea set.
She enjoys watering the flowers in pots outside the back door,
blowing bubbles,
having pretend conversations on the calculator that lives in the kitchen drawer;
bathtime is a favourite.
She sings Coldplay melodies in faultless tune,
adores Mamma Mia music and thinks feathers are incy wincy spiders.
Her best thing in the world is going to a cafe for a fluffy
with marshmallows.
She is delightful

and delicious.

Happy Birthday M.K.H.

You are much loved.



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