#1615 Day 117 of getting there: The balcony and the bay with baby girl

We sat upstairs, sipping our coffee and babycino out on the balcony this afternoon…

While chowing down home-made muffins drizzled with nutella.

Dainty, yet unforgiving when it comes to food.

That’s how us girls roll.

The bay was foggy. It blended in with the sky, ALL DAY. To say there was water there, well, a non-local wouldn’t believe it.

Even as the sun tried to shine through the clouds, and the fog started to lift… just a little…

We turned our back to it. She sat in my lap, and we mucked around, checking things on my phone, looking at nearby spider webs, tickling each other, laughing, and just generally having fun.

But not the bay. We didn’t look at it.

We turned our backs to it all.

The fog.

The outside world.

Corona.

The horrible news were were hearing each and every day.

Even with the water, kind of, but not really there before us, we looked away.

We decided to only look at each other.

Because at the very base of it, that’s all you need.

I hope you also have someone to look at over the next few weeks…

Photo by Peter Robinson on Pexels.com

(Not our bay, remember, we weren’t looking. πŸ˜‰ )

#1607 Day 109 of getting there: footpath rainbows and sunshine’s rays

It’s chalk time again guys.

Though it’s not so clear because I didn’t go over it repeatedly, take a look at my sudden inspired thought when I took chalk to footpath with baby girl this afternoon.

It reads: “No rain, no rainbows.”

It’s become one of my favourite quotes of late. It’s so relevant, and can be transferred to anything and anyone. Also, it’s highly appropriate for what we are going through worldwide, but for me and my fellow Victorians, it feels quite personal.

Now we have the rain. When we pass this, we’ll have rainbows. 🌈

And if you don’t believe me, look at this:

Look at that sun bursting through the clouds, shining that bright glare onto the waters below.

Just look at that beauty. πŸ˜πŸŒ…

#1590 Day 92 of getting there: Shelter and the sky unleashed

As I walked quickly to get baby girl from school this afternoon, the umbrella was firmly in my hands.

Closed.

I defied the wispy drops falling from the sky. Clouds abounded, but there was still light… waning.

The kids were soon released, and when the wisps turned into a consistent drizzle –

WHOOSH! Up went the umbrella.

Still, baby girl chose to run ahead and walk with a friend, while I stood with a fellow Mum under the black shade.

It wasn’t that bad.

But that all changed 20 minutes later.

At home. We were warm. Dry.

And the house went dark.

Soon… the distinct loud pattering of approaching rain was on our doorsteps.

And all around us. Enveloping the house.

Loud.

Water spilled out over the gutters, making waterfalls on all sides of the house.

It pooled outside the windows, creating mini flows of river.

Ice descended too… if only for a bit. Hitting the concrete hard like a cracking whip.

We watched from the shelter of our home.

It sure was great to be home.

#1549 Day 51 of getting there: a horizontal sunset

Today was a long day.

I worked from home.

But I was aching.

When I finished, I skipped the schoolwork I so diligently helped baby girl with each and every day.

I lay on the couch.

She piled blankets and cushions upon me.

And I lay there through countless bold and the beautiful eps.

My back cramped. My arms and legs were achy from the odd position.

My feet just wouldn’t warm up.

So I went upstairs.

Jumped under the doona…

and fixed my gaze outwards.

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Now this wasn’t my exact view tonight, because I was too damn unwell to get my phone and take a snap, obviously.

But it was the same balcony. The same chairs outside.

The same window.

The sky wasn’t so pink… it was more golden.

Fading into the night.

The clouds were spotty and rugged, like a carpet across the sky…

slowly… slowly… moving.

You wouldn’t have thought it, not unless you were watching them. But sure enough, minute by minute, the sky changed. It grew dimmer. The clouds shifted.

The cycle of nature that we know too well, was acting in accordance.

Mother Nature. Our natural certainty. No matter what else is going on, we can depend on her to bring us light, allow darkness to fall when the world needs rest, and show us her moods through the sunshine that beams down on our faces, to the rain that patters gently on the rooftops, and the wind that can howl and take down trees.

She is definitive.

And I lay there, watching the sunset come down upon me on this angle, reminded once again that there is so much world…

And so little, US.

Perspective. β™₯

#1520 Day 22 of getting there: Saluting the Sun

I felt so much better today. Part of it was due to the pressure of the BIG day being gone.

Knowing it wasn’t a day like Easter day, where I would usually see my family, well it made it easier. There was no pressure on what the day should have been, no expectations.

And also, the SUN was out.

We took a walk, because being at home is something we are all growing so tiresome of.

We had to.

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It was so gorgeous. The walk along the Esplanade showed us dozens upon dozens of other walkers alongside bicyclists, and we were all getting out for some much-needed vitamin D.

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I am so aware of the impact on mental health this isolation is causing us. So, so aware. And after the day that was yesterday, I know I need to look after myself more, give myself more time outside, taking walks, spending time in the sun, because the days ahead are only gonna get shorter, darker, and colder.

So once home, MORE sun. I took a book my cousin leant to me, and read it out on the balcony.

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The Light Between Oceans. I’m still at an early part of the novel, but it’s getting to that addictive point where the characters are infiltrating my thoughts. I love them already and am already future crying for what’s to happen next.

Baby girl, and then Hubbie soon joined me. All we needed was the cat, and the bird. πŸ˜‰

And then I snapped this up on the balcony. Clear, blue, crisp views.

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As a contrast, this later tonight.

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I felt it quite telling, metaphoric even. The clouds crossing the sky. Half clear, half murky.

And it made me think…

I think we might be half way there. Through hardship comes clarity.

Or just, the sky was part-cloudy?

You be the judge.

#1444 Reminiscing yet looking forward

I know there are so many parents out there counting down the minutes until their brood is booted off to school for another year.

And as much as I fall into this category many times during the year, a part of me ain’t feeling it tonight.

We had such a great summer.

Today was so bittersweet. I was thinking of all the routine, school lunches, rushing out the door, urging baby girl to GET OUT OF BED, and then oh God, those Winter mornings… so far away and yet so INEVITABLE.

Ugh.

Baby girl and I enjoyed a babycino/coffee break on the balcony today, which seemed like a fitting holiday send-off before a new school year.

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And then tonight, after we checked her uniform and got her lunchbox requests sorted, I spotted the remnants of a stunning sunset.

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A truly beautiful sky. Wisps of barely-there clouds floating through the middle, seemingly connecting the heavens to the earth…

Our dreams and wishes to us mere mortals?

Here’s hoping for a superb year that is more sweet than it is bitter. β™₯

#1373 What side of the sunset do they see?

You know, I still call them my work colleagues.

I realised it some weeks ago while out with friends. In conversation I went “oh yeah, my work friend so and so…”

And it was here that it occurred to me what I’d said.

‘Work’ – present tense… ‘Friend’ – present tense.

Perhaps it feels like that because it’s still all so new.

Perhaps it feels like that because I haven’t actually moved on to another form of paid work yet.

Perhaps it feels like that, because they will always be my friends.

Either way, this time of year has had me thinking about the crew a whole lot.

Because I knew, one of them would have started Christmas shopping already.

One of them would have a couple of holidays/getaways planned for the Summer .

One was going to visit the parents and pot around the garden.

A couple were going to spend time with the kids and do a whole lot of beachside activities.

And even a few more were looking forward to an extended holiday break to sleep in and watch the cricket.

I knew this, because I know them so well.

But yet, I was still not content. It’s been 3 months now, so long between catch ups, between drinks, between coffee walks.

So I messaged them ALL.

Well let’s be serious, not all of them. I messaged those who I had a connection with. Those I missed the most. Those who when I said, “let’s catch up soon” back in September, I had meant it.

Because I only say it if I mean it.

So during baby girl’s swim lesson this afternoon I took out my phone and started sending out messages.

In the hours that followed everyone responded. I returned text after text as baby girl and I got home, as she showered, as I prepared dinner and then as I cleaned up… I was grinning from ear to ear and going “awwww!”

Hubbie was smiling at me, crouched over the kitchen island, saying “that’s good.”

It was good.

I went to shower, but then got another message, so sat on my bed to respond. And it was here that I looked outside and saw the view.

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Such a beautiful sky, dotted with those rippled clouds.

How did the sky look to my work friends? How did it look to them all? We were certainly scattered all over the city, that there was no doubt of, from coastal towns to country regions, and every where in between…

Did they see the same colours? The same sky? Were the clouds peppered in their view as it was in mine?

I thought about this for a moment and how we were now, as I always said we would be… strewn all over the place, far from each other, and away from our former place of work.

But we were still bound. We still are. By the memories. β™₯

#1345 A cloudy walk to clarity

My head matched my surroundings when I woke this morning: cloudy, dreary, flat.

It was so grey. And today, I couldn’t just do what I’ve been doing every other day… I just couldn’t. Every other day I come back home from school drop off, sit down in front of the computer, and I BLEED FROM MY FINGERTIPS.

Okay, clearly I am making that up. Rather, I pour all of my head out onto the screen before me, consequently judging it, questioning it, and believing after all that it is ALL CRAP.

So, same same.

I do this rain, hail, or shine. All three things we’ve had in the last week, so I’m not even being melodramatic over that one either.

But, I was spent. Done. After sending off my second submission for my online course last night, I needed a break.

I needed to walk.

But first… (what else but? – )

Coffee.

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I walked down the street to a great local cafe. I grabbed the paper and a mag as I waited for my coffee fix, surprised that everyone was sitting inside and not outside like me!

Sure it wasn’t the brightest of days… but I needed the air. The freshness. The stillness and the birds landing on the nearby chair to see if I had left them any crumbs.

I sat there for a while without a care in the world, sipping my cap which was well past lukewarm, and turning page after page.

Ahh. I really needed this.

But I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. I kept walking straight and hit another vision… the water.

I paused at one lookout before randomly deciding to walk down a bushy path amongst the trees, with a lookout of the water to the left of me.

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I walked down that path… and then I decided to head down a narrower, bushier, steeper path.

THE WHOLE TIME I was making sure I wasn’t going to walk into a massive spider web, or there wasn’t a snake about to slither by my feet. Alongside those two very natural, very Aussie fears was the realisation I was truly off the beaten track, and there was no one else around.

NO ONE.

It was both terrifying, and thrilling. Anything could happen, and no one would know…

I ended up at one lookout.

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Then another.

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And another.

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I kept winding and switching paths, trying to keep my orientation clear in case I got lost and had to go back… but I managed to make it back out onto the main street, ALIVE.

And that walk through the wilderness had made me feel alive. My head was no longer heavy, or cloudy, or messed up.

I soon got back home, changed into my trakkies… and sat at my computer.

Ready to bleed again. πŸ™‚

 

#1269 Sick Sunset

I am sick.

With a capital S-I-C-K.Β 

The one particular thing good about being struck down with flu symptoms this week is that it’s not… next week.

Birthday week.

Grasping at straws I know. Glass half-full syndrome, I know.

But this sunset. I caught a glimpse of it, and seeing the clouds getting pushed aside by those magnificent and vibrant orange-yellow colours… the 16 year-old in me went – “sick.”

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And judging by my definitions in an earlier post, I thought it was quite funny.

I also thought, “I want to be that orange, that yellow.”

“I want to push through the clouds.”