Wednesday, 2 January 2013
This blog has moved to Slow Heart Sing
OK I may not have been entirely accurate in my last post (and that's because I was quite naive and thought I could literally rub out the old name and fill in the new – well why not? Graeme did mention last night I live in cuckoo land).
Anyway, it's almost done (thanks to my amazing husband/illustrator/creative/all-round mac guru). I'm all packed up and I've moved in. This really is where Finding that place called Home ends, and where Slow Heart Sing begins.
You can follow me here on Blogger and join me on Facebook.
I hope you'll follow me to my new home.
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
2012 was a good year. A really good year. It was the year I realised that nothing is random, that everything we've done – that I've done – has brought us to this point right here.
2009 was a crappy year (the year we moved to Australia – take from that what you will), and 2010 started off well but ended up being worse than the previous year and 2011 was, well, just chaos from start to finish. There was a lot of moving for a start. Each move (overseas, into a caravan, and three house moves) took its toll.
But it all needed to happen.
So it's really lovely and calm-inducing and heart-warming and comforting to look back and breathe a sigh of relief. All those gritty bits I once talked about in the snow globe have settled now. We're here.
The garden seems to be echoing my words, almost as a way of confirming my sentiments. When things are a good fit, you see it around you. Abundant food from the garden and plenty of fish in the ocean for us to catch and eat.
Flow and calm. It's a good fit.
This is home.
Which is why the name of this blog hasn't sat right with me for a while now. It doesn't fit any more. Now, I know you shouldn't go changing something major like a blog name when you've been blogging for over a year, but it has to change. I'm happy to risk whatever it is they say happens when you start confusing your readers, because better things will come of this, and besides, I'm not confusing you, am I?
I'm only going to do it the once, and it's just the name I'm changing. Me, the boys, our life, what I write about and what brings you here will still be the same.
I'm really excited about this. I can move forward without the constant reminder that we spent so long looking. Of course we're still finding our feet and our place in this world – everyone is to a degree – but the focus now isn't on finding.
It's just being. Taking it slow and doing what makes our hearts sing*.
So this is my very last post as Finding that place called Home (I'm hoping... if I can get it all changed seamlessly!).
A new beginning. Happy new year to all of you.
* Psst, there's a clue to the new name right there.
Sunday, 30 December 2012
I was going to write about all the things that stand out for me this year – finding a local food co-op that supports my ideals on food, green smoothies that have become a good habit, spending the day with awesome sourdough makers, time alone just the two of us in the Hunter, the garden. Oh, my garden.
But rather than harp on about me and what all of this has meant for my happiness, I'm going to mention instead the best bits I've enjoyed from other writers. This band of bloggers (and there are too many to list here) are a support network in many ways. Knowing there are other people who do things the way I do, who think the way I do is exhilarating. It's togetherness.
These are some of my favourite reads this year. The tender, the funny, the inspiring, the informative, the beautifully written... all of it. I'll do more of this type of post next year so I can include more from my band of bloggers.
- The beat of my drum from Maxabella Loves. "Beautiful music is playing within you." I always have danced to my own beat, but it's good to see it written so well in black and white.
- In pursuit of simple from Inner Pickle. "Turns out there's nothing at all bloody simple about it." So true.
- Some day from Foxs Lane. "Some day they'll be just down the hill." Just like my mum.
- High from Typically Red. "... as high as the glass of wine I'm about to pour myself right now." Oh yes.
- Memo from Che & Fidel. "Please keep yourself fit and healthy. I need you." I need to pin this on my wall.
- Natural alternatives around the home from The Little Gnome's Home. "Coconut oil is used as sunscreen." Going to try this.
- The cost of buying supermarket brands is too high from Little Eco Footprints. "... someone is paying..." And paying a very high price.
- Can ya dig it? from Happiness Stuff and Nonsense. "Love this stuff. It's getting into my veins." My sentiments exactly.
- Buying plants from This Brown Wren. "... large glass bottles of 'happy cow' milk." I live in Steph's bubble too.
- Conversation inducing from The Beetle Shack. "... busy hands and a still mind." Collecting seeds, just like mum and I did yesterday with the coriander. My first year collecting my own seeds.
If you like coming to my little place, you'll love reading these posts. It's funny, now that I look at them all together, I see that they sum me up perfectly. I like that.
Saturday, 29 December 2012
Our luscious, bumbly, tender-hearted little boy is two. Two whole years. It was a rocky start – it's hard to imagine the tiny baby and toddler are the same person – but I can't get enough of him now.
I love how he yells for me first thing in the morning, how he likes to sleep on my chest and wake me just to kiss me all over. I love the way he loves his brother, his lip-flapping sound for a horse and the way he can talk to me without saying a single word.
Please don't grow up too fast.
Monday, 24 December 2012
Monday, 17 December 2012
An unusual moment of winter coats and gumboots in the middle of December. We ventured out in the rain to jump in puddles. I'm getting to the point where I can hardly tell the difference between my boys if they've got their back to me or if their eyes are hidden. I can't quite believe that last picture of Kian – he's not even two. I was in two minds to put it up here, because whilst I think it's beautiful, it's a reminder that he growing up so fast. Too fast.
The moment we found a cicada with its glassy, veined wings on our doorstep, followed by several moments of giggling and whispering between two brothers as they discovered its chirping, buzzing sound whenever they gently touched it. It was as fascinating for me as it was for them.
More fleeting moments.
Joining in with Lou here.