#2474 Relationships like roses

It was lovely to spend some time today with my Dad’s side of the family.

Life is busy, and honestly, we see people most when they call us to something… and vice versa, when we call them to something.

You know how it goes… the weekend comes, you want to relax, but you also want to do some odd jobs, and housework, and groceries. And unless someone has said “hey, come to my house,” or “you’re invited to -” it’s usually quite hard trying to match your schedule to someone else’s. It takes repeated effort, and it’s often weeks and weeks, if you’re lucky, before you actually get to see each other.

I’m fortunate that both sides of the family tend to do stuff for catch-ups, and so even though there is sometimes months between, it is never YEARS. I mean, if you’re not gonna catch up for a special day like a birthday, when the hell are you gonna catch up?

And that was the case today with my aunty’s birthday. She called us out for lunch, and so we went, ate, took photos, and had a pleasant day.

And I captured this flower in her front yard, and it was not only gorgeous, but smelt amazing too.

It really made me think… relationships are much like roses. Sure, roses are hardy, and will spring up (pardon the pun) every year. But they may become overrun with pests, or have dark spots all over their leaves, petals sagging, looking very sad looking.

But when you give them real attention, like watering them consistently, applying healthy soil, and providing nutrient food, only then will you see them start to bloom.

The same goes for the relationships in our lives.

Pay attention to them, give them time… and watch them grow. πŸ’–πŸŒΉ

#2433 Appreciating the special times

Appreciate the days.

Appreciate ALL the days.

Appreciate the days you wake up in the morning, the days you are healthy, the days that you have warmth to protect you from the cold, the days you have someone to hug you and tell you it’s going to be alright.

But most importantly, appreciate the days you spend with your loved ones, for they are the moments that fulfil you, enrich you, and make up the most important moments of your life.

And so if you had a special person to celebrate this Father’s Day, you are even richer in love. πŸ™

Hope your day was filled with love and blessings and happiness, whether you were celebrating a father figure, a partner, a son or a brother. πŸ₯°

Anyone who’s a Dad.

I have come to appreciate and be grateful for these special days more and more, the older I get, the more I realise how these times are fleeting. I take hold of the moment and breathe in, no matter how real or raw it sometimes gets.

Appreciate what you have now. The present is ALL we have.

Let that sink in.

#2320 Photos of a Saturday night no. 3

Celebrating love.

Sharing our happiness.

Listening to old school tales, revelling in the wonder.

Playing one last song, then one last song… five songs later, and still, one last song.

Having one last drink, then one last drink… five drinks later, and still one more drink. πŸ˜†

Eat the cake. All the cake.

3 drinks at once. Because 1 at a time just won’t cut it.

Love these nights. They are truly the best πŸ™πŸ’–

#2294 The benefits of home

I was working at my desk from home this morning, when baby girl ran into the room about 9:30, sleepy-eyed but satisfied, jumping onto my lap.

It’s a little thing she does when she is home and I’m working, and this has been a regular occurrence since she’s on school holidays.

She takes the day as she pleases. A bit of ipad here, some DVDs there, a spot of writing, arty stuff, and coming up to me a few times too to sit on my lap again and take one of my earbuds to see what I am listening to.

She is lucky. I remember back to my own childhood. My dad worked night shift, so it didn’t feel like I missed any time with him… he was working while I was asleep. Having said that, the mornings were spent in absolute silence, as he usually slept upon coming home, and I had to entertain myself during school holidays by working out my exciting plan of attack on home entertainment based off of the TV guide. πŸ˜†

Mum however did work during the day, and she was away all week. Sometimes she even worked Saturdays. I just remember this one time, being really small, but also really sad that it was Saturday and she wasn’t home.

These are the sacrifices we make. These are the sacrifices our parents made. These things still happen, day in and day out, but for some people like me, going through covid and home-learning/working has made a hell of a difference.

I looked at baby girl today, moving from room to room at whim, patting the cat, touching some keys on the piano, and then asking me for her second breakfast… πŸ€¦β€β™€οΈπŸ˜†

She doesn’t need to go to childcare when I’m home like this. Nor does she need to be dropped off at family or friends houses. She doesn’t have to go into before or after school care when she is back at school, because she has the luxury of lounging around at home, in her comfort zone.

She is lucky, because I am lucky, and get to work from home.

She doesn’t get to miss me, and for that I am grateful. πŸ™

#2137 Surprise pancakes

Baby girl wanted tiny teddies today, but at my mum and dad’s place there were none.

Mum kept saying “I’ll go and buy them” and I was like “no no no, she isn’t even hungry (she just wants the sugar!)”

After stepping out to have a chat to my sister next door (πŸ˜‰) I walked back into my parents place to baby girl’s excited face.

“Baka’s making pancakes!”

And there was mum in the kitchen, stirring up some batter…

Of course she was making pancakes! πŸ€¦β€β™€οΈπŸ€£

We therefore indulged in some delicious goodness this afternoon, and I mean, nothing hits the spot quite as much as a childhood treat and staple such as this.

It’s all in the palacinka. πŸ’–πŸ’– Thanks Mum. 😘😘😘

#2131 My cherished Christmas poem

For tonight’s gratitude post, I’m re-posting a Christmas poem I wrote many years ago.

I’ve actually been meaning to re-share it, as I do each year come Christmas time, but tonight in failing to think of anything novel to write about, I thought, why not?

It’s something I really do love, and I really am quite proud of. It’s my Aussie Christmas poem, and as much as it encapsulates a very specific and dear part of my life, I wonder if I need to do an Aussie Christmas second edition, or part 2, etc etc… because there are so many ways to celebrate this most festive time of year, and so many things that can make the day as special as it is.

So, here it is…

“What (Aussie) Christmas means to me, my love”

Sunny days and leafy trees

sprawled out in the yard on lounge chairs

squeals of laughter from the park children

the squeak of Mum and Dad’s backyard swing.

Prawn platters, Fruit pavlova

three courses and constant food in between

Ham is not the star – everything is

and it all goes down well with a glass (or few) of champers.

Flowy dresses and bows in tresses

the kids run barefoot on the grass

we can show some leg and we don’t care

Summer, holidays, carefree, go together.

Annoying things too, like crawling ants and invading-space flies

tightly-wound presents with ribbon, all screwed up

but this is the miniscule list I hold

for this oh-so-Merry day.

Balmy nights, revved up cars

light until past 9pm

cannot sleep, but not just for Santa

for waiting ain’t easy when it’s pushing 20 at midnight.

Eating drinking memory making

What do you talk about with those you love?

Why everything! And now let’s make some plans

about how we’ll take on the world together.

Hot sand replaces stinging ice

sunnies sit meandering instead of wrapped-around scarves

we still rug up on Christmas Eve

to our loved ones for warmth, but not heat.

Carols may sing of snow,

Santa may be in his jolly suit,

cards will show reindeer, eggnog, fireplaces

and the pine trees are not native at this time of year.

But those are idealistic visions

of a Faraway Place

a dream where one day I will be, and see, and touch

and live in reality.

My memories here are of sun, of outdoor fun,

sitting outside and making memories with loved ones

My Aussie Christmas

is the one I love the most.

(Originally posted here) πŸ’–πŸŽ„

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

#2029 A bit of everything Sunday

It was about 5pm today when I realised I felt… different.

This was a novel way for me to feel on a Sunday afternoon.

I felt happy. Content and even a bit excited about the week ahead.


I am always dealing with massive Monday-itis feelings come Sunday afternoon, yes even in lockdown. It’s the start of more routine, more work, more home-schooling, and after having spent the day with Hubbie and baby girl, it just really makes me sad that we won’t all be together the next day.

So why was I happy?

Well, I think it was a bit of everything.

Father’s Day, of course. Showering Hubbie with cards and surprise gifts this morning.

Having video calls with family, which really put a smile on my dial. Seeing my Dad and Mum, and sis and bro-in-law made me feel happy and connected to them despite the distance between us in lockdown.

Then I made this new soup recipe, a chicken, vegetable and pasta soup, and it was really yum! So I was stewing over that (almost literally) ’til lunchtime.

And then I wrote up a new weekly timetable for myself, because I often find myself so busy but really scattered, because I don’t know what to do first when I have free time, and end up fluffing around. This way, knowing what day I will focus on what will give me tremendous drive and clarity as to what to do, when. It already worked, today was my clear clutter day, and I was totally killing it. 🀣

So yeah. I am happy, and I don’t have any massive reason why, they’re all little reasons…

(All together now…)

But the little things, ARE the big things. πŸ’–πŸ˜πŸ₯°πŸ’–

#1957 Remembering him, and the memories

A part of me feels like I’m not allowed to write about my uncle, because I had only spent two periods of my life with him.

But today, having learned of his passing, I feel a tremendous amount of sadness for my Mum’s family, while also realising that I am more than qualified to speak about him, because he inhabited some of the most meaningful and memorable parts of my life.

When I was 13 I travelled with my parents overseas. Being a fresh teenager, the thought of meeting family that I hadn’t met before was not exactly thrilling stuff.

And yet those 3 months ended up being the best of my life.

Our home base was at my uncle and aunty’s house, and so we would return there often for days at a time, sometimes weeks, in between our travels around Croatia and the neighbouring countries where our relatives lived.

I remember how much he and my Dad seemed to click. Both fond of drinking the hard stuff at 40%, they loved their grapes, their gardens, and their gadgets. Both natural handymen. It was never too early to ‘cheers,’ and they were often caught having a good ol’ chat.

I remember the garden, the vines above providing ample cover as good as a ceiling. I remember the swing there too, and the kittens that crawled along the roof of these vines, and how I looked up at them.

I remember the ‘bunker’ at the bottom of the house, and I remember the random spa-type apparatus that sat on top of the garage! Me and one of my cousins sat in the empty pool as it were, on a hot Summer’s day.

I remember them taking us out to ice cream in the main centre. I remember us walking the streets, and them telling us where the bombs had fallen, showing us the concrete scars they had left on the road. They showed us where their son had gone to high school and proudly pointed out the court he played basketball in.

I remember more vividly the second time I visited my uncle and aunty, because it was more recent… it was when Hubbie and I were on our honeymoon.

Although it wasn’t yesterday, the memories are far fresher. I had the opportunity to spend time with them, now as an adult, out of the wings of my parents, 12 years on. Hubbie and I sat with them. There was still the bunker, the 40% alcohol, and the cherished garden. And of course, the cats.

I think he had a soft spot for cats.

On the few days we were in town, he kindly played tourist guide, driving us around to see other family members. We saw his favourite fishing hole, and he spoke fondly of his own family, and of his memories with them.

I often found myself staring at him and being amazed at the likeness between him and his son.

But what I remember most, is the day he took us to the train station, as we set to depart from Croatia.

We waved goodbye, and I said we would see him again one day. I watched as he turned, his head bobbing down in a sign of resignation as he walked away.

But that day never came.

I think of all of this, and I send so much love out to my family tonight.

I hope they too hold their own special memories of him that they’re replaying in their minds.

It’s just another sombre reminder that we must grasp each and every day with all our might and all our love.

Photo by Rahul on Pexels.com


#1918 Art will live forever

I was going through old family photos this evening as I searched for photos of my Dad over the years, for his official birthday today.

I don’t know about you, but I get sucked into a time warp when I start doing this. I go through one year, then another, and another… suddenly I’ll look up from what I’m doing and be like “woah. Where am I?”

Like I’ve just woken up or something.

Photos transport you. I love going through them, and I’m trying my damndest to keep all my photo albums documented and in chronological order, though I’m very behind… but still trying.

And in thinking about photos, I realised that their ability to transport you to different times, and with different people, make them invincible.

They defy time and space.

They live forever.

It immediately made me think of words. Words live forever too. Think of the words you read by a poet 200 years ago… they breathe new life when you quietly repeat them in your mind, the meaning travelling through centuries to make its way to you.

And music. I LOVE music. Think of all the songs you love, from singers and bands that have long now gone, the words and the melodies that you continue to belt out in your car, when you’re doing the dishes, or in the shower… their lyrics and the music continue to live on through you, when you press play on your device, or decide to go acapella, wherever.

Art. Art is what it is. I love art, creativity, in all its forms.

Part of the reason is, IT CAN NEVER DIE. People, words, songs, they will always be revived when they are recalled, read, played.

Of course, they are passionate expressions of creativity, and that is simply the most beautiful thing. Even photography, it captures a moment in time, something that nothing else can quite do, and helps you to recall sudden scents, sights, a dress you used to wear when you were young, or a place you used to visit, and no longer do…

Photos can do all of this, and it was this I was reminded of when passing through the many years of my Dad’s life tonight.

They remind us of all the times of our life, when our own memories fail us.

How many other wonderful things will be captured by photo, that we are yet to live?

How many beautiful words are we yet to read?

And what magical music are we yet to hear?

Beautiful food for thought. πŸ’–πŸ’–

Photo by Lisa on Pexels.com

#1917 A special birthday

Check out the numbers on those cakes:

8-0. 80.

Yes. We celebrated my Dad’s birthday today, a day earlier from his actual birthday.

Wow. What a milestone. It’s what I wrote in the card too. Just think about it… all the things you must go through, pass through, live through, to get to that grand age…

I was feeling grateful and fulfilled that we were together today, able to celebrate as family should.

And though life can be hard, and IS hard, and there are moments where you can see more hardship than good, these are the moments you ultimately live for.

The togetherness. The laughter. The love. The food, the drink, the memories, and the D&Ms through all crazy hours…

These are the moments where you thank God/your lucky stars/Karma/yourself, for where you are in life, and who you are with.

And to celebrate my Dad’s birthday today, was the ultimate icing on the cake. LITERALLY.

Happy birthday Dad. We love you. πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–