A Blog a Day in May

The Soft Girl Again

The soft girl spoke to me again.

She was quick, as usual, so quick I almost didn’t notice she’d come. But I caught her. Yes! And when I did, she spoke to me in moving pictures and silhouettes: a projected future scene, playing like a movie on the blank screen of my mind.

When her ‘flash’ of advice came I was on the couch, hugging my pink blankie and gobbling up leftover pizza. What songs might I play on my walk when it came time to brave the cold, I wondered. 80’s pop? Musical theatre? List by eclectic list rolled over in my musical mind’s eye, but a solid decision was yet to announce itself.

That’s when I heard her. Saw her.

Felt her.

And what did the soft girl whisper to me, you ask? She whispered a change of plans. Not an outright change, nothing drastic. Just a tweak. A slight nudge to move me into better alignment with the makings of a greater day. A greater me.

The soft girl showed me a vision of my walking track— the one I’d be springing along in the not too distant future, whistling up fat-armed gum trees, crunching along a pathway of pebbles grey, red, and brown.

But things were different in the soft girl’s version of events. In the soft girl’s version…I wasn’t alone. My little baby elephant— my adorably delightful five-year-old boy—had come along for the pebble crunch of it all, and it-felt-good. It felt…right.

It was that feeling, the feeling of rightness I experienced upon mentally viewing my little mister striding along beside me that confirmed it. The soft girl. Her subtle, intuitive language had whispered it’s quiet hello so that I might use it and make this life of mine better.

An hour later I walked out the front door, trailed by an ever so excited little boy. An hour after that…the two of us bounded back into the house, huffing, puffing and smiling from our Super Mario ‘star run’ down the street to home.

The soft girl got it right again today, the lovely duffer

And my goodness, I’m grateful.

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A Blog a Day in May

The Adventures Of A Hungry Girl

My glasses are shining back at me from the library window.

In hindsight, I should have eaten. Actual lunch I mean, not just the Honey and Date Loaf that quite accidentally fell into my belly at around lunchtime today. I know I should have chosen a more appropriate lunch because I’ve been wandering around the library for an hour, in a daze, and only now have I begun to write: a blog post, might I add, that will likely make little to no sense at all, whatsoever, in the slightest, or even a little bit. (See what I mean? I have no one to blame but myself.)

Apart from a total lack of regard for my perfectly innocent human body, it’s been a wonderful day. The ‘wonderful’ began with a song about a garden. I was on my way to meet my husband and little people at the pool, wrestling with the gear stick of my husband’s zippy little beetle bug (I’ve never been a multitasker) when the lady on the radio announced the next song.  Inspired by a home garden, apparently.

A song about a garden: I was intrigued.

By the end of the song— a dainty classical number, whirling with piano and violin the butterflies in my heart had moved me out of my body and into a lavender-scented cottage garden.

Beautiful. Magical. Lovely.

Really it was.

When life returned to normal, I swam with my ‘watch this Mummy!’ little girl. I ate cake and I drank coffee. I wandered the shops, and I wandered the library, and here I am now. Writing a completely random blog post like only a hungry cooky girl can.

So, yes.

It’s been a happy kind of day (however random) thanks for asking. ☺️I’m sorry about the ‘not really about anything’ blog post.

Tomorrow will be better. Maybe. Probably.

Hopefully. (Wink)

xx

woman wearing black jacket holding pink flowers
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Twelve Days of Christmas

The Twelfth Day of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, her sleeping babes warmed her heart from their beds.

What joy might tomorrow bring for them, she wondered, remembering the magic of being a child on Christmas eve.

She remembered lying in bed, listening to the lullaby of her heart, hoping and wishing to meet the morning sooner.

She remembered such lovely things—

and she smiled.

Because on the twelfth day of Christmas, the girl became a woman in love with the dream all over again.

But this time the dream was for her sleeping babes.

Sleep tight, my little ones.

Sweet dreams, until the morning finds you.

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Ps. Thank you so much for coming on this heart-filled journey with me, these past twelve days. Merry days to you all, my lovely friends. Here’s hoping the magic of the season finds you and chases you well into the new year.

xx Brooke

 

 

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Twelve Days of Christmas

Merry Birthday

On the tenth day of Christmas, there was a party.

Two years ago (nearly) she rocketed into my world and I fell irreversibly in love.

With her.

My mini me.

My little princess of the adorably nuts kind.

Happy birthday, darling girl.

Thank you for ruining Mummy’s forever Christmas;

no gift from here on in will ever be as sweet as you.

Twelve Days of Christmas

Couch Chat

On the seventh day of Christmas

the sun came

and then it went.

In between the coming and going of the sun

lots of love happened.

Lots of smiles.

A couple of sad thoughts.

Hardly any cranky ones— hells yes. (Don’t ya love those days?)

So…yeah.

Life happened and it was really pretty great.

The thing is—

I’m so super snoozy. (Sleepy sigh smile.)

So super snoozy I can’t think of anything overly brilliant to write.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow I’ll write something AMAZING. (She says, grinning at the cheek she hopes she’ll be forgiven for)

Night night, gang.

You guys are awesome.

Thanks for popping by for a bit of a couch chat.

xx Brooke (Couch chat legend from way back.)

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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 10. The Big Surprise

It’s days like today that I’m so glad this little blog of mine is an everything blog.

Because I have a story to tell. An every-day kind of story.

A story about a darling little boy, and a darling surprise.

A darling surprise…for me!

Mummy.

So. Here goes it.

Kinder pick up time arrived and off I went—toddler on hip— to collect the darling boy I call Son from his beloved: Kinder.

It’s always the most beautiful part of my day; wandering in to see his little legs twisted around themselves as he waits patiently on the mat. For me. Mum. The one that deals out the snuggles and the smooches.

The one who calls him darling.

But the real darling of this story is this.

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Flowers for Mothers day on Sunday…

Which I had totally forgotten about.

Darling moment.

Darling surprise.

 

The darling blog of May

 

The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 5. When I grow up

‘Mum?’

‘Yeah?’

‘When I grow up, I wanna be…’

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‘…a digger.’

‘A digger?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You mean, like…the machine?’

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‘Umm…no.’

‘Oh. Like…a man that digs?’

‘Umm…’

‘Like, you know, holes and stuff?’

‘Umm…yeah.’

Silence.

Silence.

Giggle.

Sigh.

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‘Darling. You can be whatever you want to be.

Whatever makes you happy.’

Silence.

Silence.

Smile. 

‘Okay.’

‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

Yawn.

Silence.

‘Goodnight, Mum.’

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The darling blog of May