I used to put in this blog all the happy things I didn't want to forget in the slow blur of parenting. I wrote about my children's irresistible emergent language; the way they saw things, so fresh and observant. I wrote about the moments I thought were funny; the things we made, or I made for them. I wrote about the ebb and flow of my feelings about raising a family in a place so many miles from 'home'.  I really tried to capture the weight of their bodies in my arms, their small frames, their turn of phrase, the nature of who they might be and the childhood that might be shaping them.

Preschool art projects became kindergarten homework. Empty afternoons filled up with the school run.  Tiredness took a bite out of sibling friendships. Squabbles fell upon us like high speed tetris blocks. I couldn't shift them fast enough to fit the matrix.  Emotion trebled; 'he made a nasty face', 'he took my train', 'he called me dude' (despite the meaning, the slight is deep when delivered with a first grade snarl). I stopped wanting to record our days together. I stopped wanting to take my camera out. I no longer had the time or inclination to share on a blog the content of our lives.  I see an earlier version of myself reading this, the one who took so much pleasure capturing our particular journey.  She is wondering what changed.  I am wondering too.

I know it is all about attitude. I will endeavour to carve out more time to write, seek out the meaning of things and hand it to you like a delicate chocolate wrapped in tissue paper.

Trash to treasure

These are the before and after shots of the chair I rescued from the sidewalk the other day.  With the help of the blog, little green notebook, I managed to reupholster the piece in the space of a week. I have to admit, it was pretty satisfying.  I spent about $70 on fabric and cord (to make the piping/welting) and I used paint I had already purchased. The main challenge was keeping the staple gun away from the kids. It now looks like one of the smartest pieces of furniture we own!

Done with summer

The summer holidays come to a close.   The time has been divided into a happy half spent in Cornwall, catching glimpses of sunshine, seeing people who are important to us, clambering down to inaccessible beaches and sloshing through puddles.  But these past few weeks have been dominated by a friend's accident.  One of those important people. Though I am thousands of miles away, in my mind I have walked the hospital ward. I know the parking lot, full of hot cars, ticking in the sunshine. I see the blue signs directing patients and visitors. I see the nurses. One is especially tall with a brown bob, her eyes the colour of her overalls.  I know the waiting room, the curved plastic chairs, the frosted glass along one wall, the magazines that have come loose from their staples. I know the ICU. I see my friend there, sitting by her husband's side, as he sleeps, among the tubes and the IV bags and the machinery that is helping him survive.  I see the line of staples across the right side of his shaven head. I have seen his children brought into his room, the nurse explaining the tubes and letting them play with the stethoscope and even sit in the swing chair. She lets them trace the shape of their father's hand to take away with them.  I see the doctors looking serious and urgent but benign. This used to be his ward. What are the chances? The intensive care consultant, now consulted upon. There is a picture of him in the bathroom, smiling with his palms out, reminding you to wash your hands.  A bike accident. A split second that has twisted time and lives and futures.  It has been hard to think of anything else.
We went for a walk the other day with the promise of pancakes and sausages at a mountain lodge 2 miles up the hill.  It was so hot, even at ten in the morning, and by the time we were walking back there wasn't even a thin sliver of shade from the trees on the trail.  Last week we picked blackberries and made our first ever pot of sweet pippy jam.  I have kept myself busy making a 'keyhole garden' and reupholstering a chair that we found flung out on the street.  Planning playdates for the kids, getting ready for school. But they are all distractions. My heart is in the Intensive Care Unit at Dereford Hospital, willing a friend to heal.

Summer wishlist

Here are a few things on our summer wishlist....

1. Make cool sandcastles
2. Learn how to surf
3. Visit an island
4. Write a story

What's on your list?