Buy deliciously cute weekly dinner plan pad from fancy stationers.
Think about what you are doing in the week or two weeks ahead.
Write a sample menu for a week.
Invite people over, then make sure they change the day at least once. Then immediately forget the new arrangement and fail to write it down on your super cute new planner. Colour yourself surprised when they turn up with champagne while you are collapsed on the couch. Send man out to get pizza. Read More
In 2007 while Helen was dying, I was torn. Torn between wanting her to die, and not wanting her to die. Sounds simple now, easy almost. A or not A. When she died, we would stop suffering, but we would stop having her too. We would sleep, rather than fret, but how selfish I felt.
Death however, has other plans for us all. We become the worst version of ourselves when we are dying. The selfish, bitter, mean and egotistical selves that we spend a lifetime from early childhood trying to repress, trying to pretend we were not, we are. Death makes fools of us all. Read More
Not often do you met someone who shares many of your hopes and dreams, who is also different enough from you to keep it genuinely interesting. One such person for me is the reason I wish I lived in Melbourne. There are other people too, and you know who you are, but there is one particular person who I wish I lived nearer to, because then I would live closer to them all!
Melbourne ~ home to many fine people
Yesterday this fabulous person wrote one the most important pieces I’ve read for a long time. Really, it is that important. Learning resilience, she says, has far greater merit than being a winner.
When contemplating this, add to it, the idea of finding balance between supporting, caring for and nurturing your family, while looking after yourself and perhaps even finding something to do that financially contributes without taking away from everything that is important to you. Then add the pressure, to love what you do. There are more threads to this blog post that one of Ruth’s pom-poms and it knots around the core of our well-being and happiness. You can read Ruth’s post Finding balance here.
Sometimes people think our family is unconventional.
It’s true we do some things differently to others.
While I don’t think Ruth’s family is like everyone elses, for a start it is much bigger than ‘average’ whatever that really means, and it has more boys in it than I can think about without just feeling overwhelmed, I think she has crafted her family in a way that few people can manage. With a deliberate care. With mindfulness. With consideration of her impact on the world and on others.
Ruth has supported me in ways she couldn’t possibly imagine in the first three years of mothering. And in life in general. She’s provided me with inspiration, with recipes and ideas. We’ve talked about the downsides of homework, or the upsides of food markets, of love of music and family and making your own way.
This has been invaluable to me as I balance, work and mothering and all the rest of it. She has very clear views about children and food. These helped me beyond measure when I was getting myself into a lather about weetbix for dinner and worrying about fussing over food. She has written sincerely and in a helpful fashion about her family and what they eat on her blog many times. When up against it, more than once, I’ve just checked the recipes on her blog so at least I know what to make for dinner. It is not all about the food. There is a shared love for and striving for a happy home and a heart full of joy.
@stellaorbit and that is the key! we don't have to do things the same to be happy. beat your own drum. trust yr heart. live with courage
All the good stuff - especially truffle (front and centre)
Food has been on my mind lately. When is it not? Some would say I was quite obsessed by it. Sometimes I have been thinking about feeding my child. I didn’t completely understand the amount of time and energy that would be put in, usually by me, to plan, cook and arrange, meals for my child. Not always by me. Every morning, Benedict’s porridge is served by his daddy. It’s their time, breakfast. It is a two-fold joy. Usually, it is a smooth, easy time. It allows them to bond over AM and the news of the day and have a bit of time together. After Benedict has finished his own porridge, he usually helps himself to mine too, no matter how much he ate of his own. Read More