braided baskets from fabric scraps

Sitting by the fire. 

Cup of tea {or a red wine} by my side. 

Braiding strips of fabric,

to be stitched into baskets. 

This has been my happy place this winter. 

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You can find the tutorial for how to turn fabric scraps into baskets here. 

around here . . .

there's a chill in the air. misty mountain mornings. arms full of kindling. a fire to feed. breathtaking light in the late afternoon. extra blankets at night. there's are a trip to the nursery. holes to dig. trees to plant (chinese tallow, liquid amber, silver birch). renovations to the chook yard. a pile of bush poles to work with. there are fruit trees to prune. a worm farm being built. there's some kombucha brewing. a bucket of kalamatas pickling. there are mid-winter celebrations. wild and wet lantern walks. a baby who can walk (but chooses not to). there's end of term tiredness and tears. talk of plans for the school holidays. dear friends coming to stay. plus a little trip away.

holding on and letting go . . .

1. flowers picked from the roadside

2. eyes for his dad

3. sun shining down on our little town

4. more mouths to feed

5. five

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sleepless nights roll into busy days. life feels full. the weeks fly by in a blur of nappies and night feeds. lunchboxes and lullabies. washing and wiping. mess and mayhem. it takes me three days to return a phone call. three weeks to write a blog post. i'm truly up to my neck in parenting. 

oscar is approaching four months now. i can feel myself being enveloped in that heavy cloak of fatigue.  i try and cling to the delicious baby details, but i know when i go to retrieve them later, they will mostly be lost in the fog. 

yesterday i found myself googling 'three children chaos.' i don't know what i was hoping to find. answers? help? solace? a smoother path through the storm? in some strange way though, i'm learning to embrace this chaos. the way we ricochet from one crazy moment to the next. then collapse in a heap. sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. how time and time again i find a whole new level of letting go.

life is intensely challenging and wonderful in equal parts. right now i crave personal space, time with my own thoughts, peace and quiet, a few minutes on my own. but i know that in the blink of an eye this chapter will be closed. i'll longingly look back and yearn for the baby sounds and smells and softness that fills my world right now. the funny things elliot says. aila's sweet innocence.

while this tornado continues to spin around me, my focus is on surviving each day. holding on and enjoying the wild ride and finding some space to savour the sweet moments too.    

around here . . .

there's heavy rain outside. general disarray inside. craft and cubbies. 

there's a fire roaring. a husband who brings in the wood. keeps us warm.

there's the school holidays. at the halfway mark. three weeks in all.

there's a hot cup of tea. followed by another. and then another. 

there's a mountain of washing. from a week in the city. draped here and there.

there are details to record. in the fleeting spare moments. before i forget. 

there are slippers on feet. beanies on heads. pajamas at noon.

there's chai simmering. on top of the fire. the slow cooker's on. 

there's evidence of winter. everywhere i look. around here.

wintertime | watching the whales. . .

we collected aila from school and headed out to the point. while the two boys slept soundly in the back seat of the car, we ate our afternoon tea and watched three whales gracefully frolicking just off the coast. 

breathtaking and captivating. 

{the next day we returned armed with camera, binoculars and my mum, 

but this time there were none to be seen.}  

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midwinter making . . .

little lantern in the night

fill our hearts with your warm light

guide us in the way to be

happy, good, strong and free 

tomorrow is the winter solstice. the shortest day and the longest night. tonight we'll rug up and gather with our school community. build a fire, take a lantern walk, sing some songs and share some food. 

we made these simple lanterns for the celebration. glass jars, wire, tissue paper and glue. 

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bits and pieces. . .

a posy from the garden. sweet persimmons. attempting to beat a bothersome cough. fun with a hot glue gun. looking out through freshly washed windows. preparations for mid-winter celebrations. a mountain of lovely laces and linens a friend found for me at the op-shop.

we went walking . . .

exploring over the back fence

and filling up on sunshine and fresh air

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{we've been sick and cooped up inside for days ~

it felt so good to get out}

collecting . . .

a bounty of

shapes, sizes and colours

from the backyard

and creating

an army of

nutty little nut people

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our weekend was. . .

friday coldies on the deck with the builders. date night with my love. discovering a new beach. a picnic blanket a magazine and a sleeping baby. big surf {too big for me}. a cafe lunch. making friends with strangers. a hot chilli chocolate shot. a power nap. tennis in the forest. climbing on logs. hunting for frogs. bbq with friends. muddy and soggy. talking about packing. not actually packing. a family yoga session. four seasons in one day. crispy skin chicken roasted in the kamado. laughing at the walking talking baby boy. full and fun.

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glimpses. . .

watching

all the delicious details

unfolding

less than

four weeks

until we move in.

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