take it, make it

My toes were freezing this morning. Indiecat was nestled into the curve behind my knees when Daniel left for work at five, and when I stirred she purred sleepily. I didn't want to disturb her so I dozed, listening to the chorus of birds that Daniel seemed to awaken with the garage door. I marvelled at the earliness of the birds, and the how light it was on the other side of my eyelids. 
Spring is my favourite. 
There was a time where I would reach for my phone as my eyes adjusted to it's glow, and I would wake as I scrolled, mindlessly. Now, I feel like I have started to win back the battle for my mind from social media and I forget it's pull. Finally.
Instead I ran through my mental checklist for the day, planning, dreaming.

I have a stash of vintage fabric that I've been collecting since Kate showed us her gorgeous hand made quilts (gosh, was it really that long ago?!). 
It's been on my to-do list for ever.

And today in my string of planning thoughts I realised we aren't simply given time to do things. It doesn't get handed to us wrapped in kraft, and tied with twine.
We have to take it, make it. We get a bunch of time for the day, and it's up to us what we do with it, and we can't blame busy when we don't have time to read or sew or sleep.

We are not a tv household, but the average Aussie watches 4 hours per night.
Four hours?!
I could knock off a quilt in a week if I spent four hours a night sewing!
Imagine the possibilities.

The truth is, my need to have an immaculate house has prevented me from accomplishing those not-so-priority tasks, and I am going to [try to] make them priority.
Especially with Christmas approaching, I would love to see a tree surrounded by handmade, love-filled gifts for my family this year. 


fast forward

Days are crazy. 
I found myself wishing them away last week. 
In my defence, I had a weekend away planned for our anniversary so I was hurrying time along impatiently.
But I know I've been hurrying it along for the last couple of months. 
Because I'm in a season that is difficult. 
I am head first, sinking deep into a unit this semester that I am drowning in dislike for. 
I feel like I am unqualified and uninterested and I just want it to be over.
Finding time to study during the day with an energetic four year old is like digging for coffee beans in the front garden... the chances of finding any are slim to none. And I need them desperately.
And in the evening? I am exhausted
And my brain doesn't function the way that I need it to, and I am imagination-less. 

I have learned this week that although its tough, I need to allow myself to be right here. 
In the exhausting craziness of these three kiddos, and all that life brings. 
Today the sun shone, and the bitter wind blew, and I allowed myself to feel it, instead of hurrying inside to the warmth. 

This season is a tough one, and I'm almost at the end of this semester and I can feel it, but I'm stuck and it's hard and I want to run out of the freezing wind and hide where it's warm.
But today I choose to turn around. 
To turn my face to the bitter wind, let my cheeks get rosy and keep walking, even if it feels like quicksand. 

Meanwhile, I am procrastinating by dreaming of a new birthday camera, writing birthday invitations for my 30th, ignoring corners of accumulating mess and making strawberry jam with a ridiculous bounty of strawberries. 

This too shall pass. 


spring, and sunflower seeds, and seeing change

Today I sat at the kitchen bench picking at a little pile of sunflower kernels I'd placed there to eat. Along came an eight year old who promptly sat beside me, exclaimed "I love these!" and he and I polished them off.
I actually did an internal leap for joy.
Remember my journey to clean eating post? 
I was actually feeling discouraged that week.
So often I regret the beginnings of motherhood where I was ill-informed, and introduced foods to my kiddos that I thought were good (ie. thinking that something was somewhat 'healthy' simply because I'd baked it at home, despite the sugar and white flour content) and sometimes I feel like I've 'ruined' them, and their taste buds, and their ability to make healthy choices. 
Today I was reminded that the slow, conscious effort I have been making for months on end are actually paying off. That these three fuss-pots are becoming more adventurous with foods, and we are eating cleaner than ever. 
Our diets are far from perfect. Hello McDonalds. But their lunch boxes, and the foods I keep at home now are free from additives, and full of nutrient rich simple real food. We are learning and we are still on a journey.
It's not how you start, it's the way you finish that counts. 

And it made me think about everything that is worth something. 
Health, and fitness. My marriage. Investing into my kids.
Sometimes it is just hard.
It's hard to get off the couch and get moving. 
It's hard to prioritise my marriage and put my husband before myself. 
It's hard to give selflessly, what feels like constantly.
But when you take those tiny slow steps towards that thing that you're wanting, or that thing that needs to change it actually starts to change

It's not going to without you doing something.
And continuing to do those little somethings along the way.

Repetition is key.
Keep going. 
Keep getting off the couch. 
Keep providing nutritious meals, packing lunch, cutting salads.*
Keep kissing your husband hello when he walks in the door.
Keep walking your kids to their classroom instead of leaving them at the gate. 

There is blessing in the faithful walk through the mundane. 
Spring is a new season of growth - what is sown in the hard, dark days will spring forth.
Keep going.
It will make a difference. I promise.


*talking to myself here, so glad it's Friday tomorrow, if I had to pack one more lunchbox this week I think I'd fall in a heap!

I think I can, I think I can - diary of an amateur runner

I started running in November last year. I needed a form of exercise that fit my life. 
That I could squeeze in around school runs and crazy times, and a husband who often works very long days. 
One that didn't have set times, and didn't cost a fortune. 
Running was the perfect fit. 
The only problem was I was unfit and I had never been good at it. Ever. 
I was the one who feigned sickness to get out of school sports carnivals, I came last in running races, I did not like running.
But the goal I set at 29 to be fit for thirty meant I had to do something, and with the help of a 'couch to 5k' running app I set out.

I started enjoying my runs. Not so much the out-of-breath-dying-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other state, but the tranquility; the boat ramp, the fresh air, the breather - the high five from the husband as I ran out the door as he got home. The thirty minute escape. 
And the fitness.
I could see my fitness improving.
My goal was 5 kilometres. 
I kept at it, slowly. 
I actually felt like I would never get there. 
Some days were terrible and I would get a stitch or I hated every second and gave up. 
But I just kept going
Whenever I could. Sometimes only once a week. 
It took me 9 months - two weeks ago, I did it. I reached my 5km goal. I ran non stop for 32 minutes.

It didn't cost me anything - I wore sneakers that are seven years old, a daggy tshirt - except half an hour: one, two occasionally three times a week. 
I earned myself a new pair of runners. 

Yesterday I ran our 12k City to Surf and gave myself a time to beat for next year.

So. From this amateur runner to you who would like to start, some tips. 

1. Begin. Just go. Even if it's a walk today, and a faster walk tomorrow, you have to start somewhere. 

2. Set yourself tiny goals. I used the help of a Couch to 5k app to get started, and it increased my running times for me. I then ditched it and started setting myself goals.
"This run I will run non stop for 10 minutes" and then increase it. 

3. Set yourself a bigger goal to work towards. A fun run, or a marathon, or a certain level of fitness, or a weight loss goal. You need tiny goals because they are achievable. And when you reach them it's all the motivation you need to reach the next one because it feels so good to get there. But you need a bigger one too. Keep your eye on that one, but...

4. Don't feel negative pressure. It's hard, and you're trying! Be kind to yourself. How important are the words we speak not only to others, but to ourselves, too!

5. Involve others. Other people who want to join you on your journey, or who can encourage you, or who are further along than you. My friends have turned into fitness freaks, and it keeps me motivated to keep running!

6. Just like The Little Engine that Could, as I run I am affirming that I can run. 
If I quit in my mind my legs quit, too.
How true is that for almost everything in life?
My mind is so much stronger now. I can push past the extremely difficult and keep going because I tell myself that I can.
I think I can, I think I can. 

I am super proud of myself. 
I'm thirty next month and I'm fitter than I've been in a long time. 


best scone recipes

Every now and then, especially during winter, my mum would whip up a batch of scones and we would devour them with strawberry jam and generous globs of cream. 
I remember when I was old enough to be allowed to rub the flour and the butter together with the tips of my fingers, and how proud I was when it became crumbly, and ready for the milk.
Following mum's tradition, scones are a fairly regular occurrence at our place, and are still yet to lose their appeal. There is not much that beats a homemade scone. 

The first, my never-fail lemonade quick scone recipe. I have been baking these for years. So quick and easy.
The second, a thermomix recipe I found today that makes super fluffy, light scones as quick as a wink. It's the first time I've used my thermie for scones and I was super happy with how they turned out!
Take your pick, and enjoy an afternoon tea in the last few days of winter sunshine like we did!

Quick Scones

3 cups self-raising flour
1 cup cream
1 cup lemonade
milk for brushing

1. Preheat oven to 220C. Grease or line your scone tray. Sift flour into a large bowl. Make a well in the centre of the flour and pour in the cream and lemonade.
2. Using a bread and butter knife, mix quickly to a soft, sticky dough. Don't over-mix.
Knead lightly on a floured surface. Press it out to about 2cm thick.
3. Cut into rounds using a floured cutter. Place them close together on your tray. Brush the tops with milk, bake for 10-12 minutes until they sound hollow when tapped. 

Thermomix Scones

450-500g(ish) self-raising flour
2 tbsp sugar
200g cream
250g milk

Preheat oven to 200.
Put all ingredients in the thermomix and mix for 2 sec speed 5. Knead on interval speed until it comes together to form a (fairly sticky) dough (not long, 10 seconds-ish). As above, press out on a floured surface and cut rounds. Place them close together on your tray, brush tops with milk and bake 10-12 minutes or until risen and golden. 

My scone tips:

Handle the dough as little as possible. They'll loose their fluffiness if they're overhanded. 
Dip your cutter in flour. If you don't have a scone cutter, use a butter knife and make small squares instead, I did this for years before I finally got around to buying a round scone cutter. 
The oven has to be HOT, make sure it's preheated thoroughly or your scones will be a little bit undercooked on the inside. 
Jam, then cream. Or lashings of butter when they're straight from the oven.
Thermomix recipe found (and slightly adapted) from here



I am, and have always been bookish.
In my last post for August over at Capture 30 Days today, I wrote about my love of reading.
The importance of good books.

To feel paper, to turn pages, to curl up and enter in. 

I included a handful of books I could remember (mostly recently read ones) from the top of my head that have impacted me, or that I have simply been swept away by.
I so encourage you to go and have a read of this post.

And pretty please, could you give this bookworm some recommendations? Comment on this post, or my link on Facebook or even on Instagram - let me know what you've immersed yourself in lately? I would love to hear what you've been reading, and why!
I am feeling bookish, after all this talk of reading, and after an unsuccessful library trip today (mainly due to a four year old who demanded I read her everything) I am determined to get myself something completely whimsical and set a date with it for the weekend.
I need distraction from studying. And I want to go on an adventure.


approval, validation : I am enough

Plaguing my mind these last few weeks is the word validation.
What we feel validates us as humans.
What makes us feel invalidated, rejected.
The more I thought about it, the more things I realised I've used to feel validated in my life.
And I say feel validated with weight because it's just that - a feeling.

You are not any better or worse than anyone else. 
Your social status does not validate you, nor does the school your children attend, or the grades they receive. Nor do the grades you receive validate you, or your popularity on Instagram, or your marital status.
The clothes you wear don't constitute a stamp of approval, and neither does the car you drive, or the place you live, or the amount of nice things you surround yourself with. 

You are you. You are good enough, loved enough, purposed and planned.
You don't have to have enough, you are enough. 
Our insecurities tell us we need to be more, have more, share more, be recognised and awarded to be validated enough as humans. 

Today I pulled from the letterbox my first graded assignment of the semester.
A creative writing assignment I poured my heart into, and handed in along with all the tiny pieces of myself I had typed on to that page. 
The papers were scribbled over; words are crossed out, commas added, question marks scrawled messily,  morphed to statements like stop writing, you aren't good enough, you will never be enough through tear-blurred eyes. The grade was fine. But I expected better than fine. 

I cried. I will always cry. I will cry over spilt milk, and death and everything in between.
And then I wiped my eyes and realised that this does not validate me.
I will not feel invalid, rejected, disapproved of. 
I know who I am. I know what I love. I know I am learning, and I know that progress is all that is needed - I don't expect perfection from myself. 
I am enough.

You are enough, too.


agenda. or losing it.

Agenda. Defined as a plan or list of matters to be attended to.
I have lost my patience twice three times this week.
I scolded crossly, impatiently, and probably not very kindly.
Today, in church, I was thinking about these three times, and countless others during my motherhood journey. I was reciting the fruits of the spirit in my mind, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.
What makes me react? What robs me of my patience, and kindness in those moments?

Always, always, always it's because my agenda; my plan, my list, my to-do's have been messed with.
I've lost control over it because someone has forgotten something, needed help with something, taken too long to do something, is impossible to please because her hair is crazy, been disobedient or accidentally spilled or broken something... and I loose my patience*.
I lose it because control is lost.
I lose it because we're rushing, or I don't want to help put those leggings on because I know she has done it before by herself and she can do it now. I lose it because things are not going to plan.
I lose it with a groan or an eye roll.
I sigh hard, and frown and scold in exasperation, which helps nothing but to bring down little spirits of those I care so much for
And my heart breaks thinking about my impatience and my unkindness and my prioritising my own agenda.
When I'm being called to lay down my life, to be a servant, to put others before myself.
Especially those I have been gifted with the role of mothering.

And impatience doesn't work. My heavy sigh of annoyance don't help the heart of an already-sorry-he-made-a-mess child. It doesn't make things move more quickly or more smoothly.
It just makes us all feel rotten.

So. I am vowing to put my agenda aside.
Maybe we'll be late a few times. Maybe I'll have to be a little more organised.
But I'll be more patient with my tiny humans. I'll speak more kindly.
And I'll put less pressure on myself to perform to my own impossibly high standards - ie. not everything has to be done or perfect.

The Bible says soft speech breaks down the most bonelike resistance.**
That it is better to be patient than powerful.***
There is the quiet, calm patience, the enduring patience, the bearing-a-load patience, the persevering and steadfast and remaining patience.
So, I'll stay. Remain.
That patience that the Spirit produces in us (Galatians 5:22) literally means to be able to hold one's temper.
I guess we have a choice. Lose the agenda or lose the patience*.
Not by my own strength but His as I lay down my own schedule and slow down to be better at this life thing.

*I was going to write the word shit instead here. But, backlash.
** Proverbs 25:15
*** Proverbs 16:32


The days are flying by quicker than I can count them, faster than I can run.
August is here; there are countdowns to birthdays and anniversaries, and there are sadnesses and weights and celebrations of life. 
A dear friend lost her sister this week, her daughter also a friend of mine, and it stings the heart and makes heavy the soul.
I've been writing, writing, but haven't felt the need to share here - it's not been a burden and for that I am grateful. 

I have though, popped in over at my gorgeous friend's blog Capture 30 Days, and I will be saying hi there every Tuesday this month and talking about books that changed me.

The first one was Ish, by Peter H. Reynolds.
My firstborn will read the book to you, if you pop over here now, with a cameo from Indiecat.

Boil the kettle, enjoy.


Inspire my July | the seas ripples, my pride, and three S's

Sunday afternoon found me here. Only 1.2 kilometres away from my home.
Wind whipping around my face, pelicans for company, a cosy cardigan keeping me warm and a chai tea between my hands. 
I'd just done a photo shoot, out of my comfort zone and a sensitive, emotional one. 
I stopped to breathe, taking my camera with me as I walked the little jetty.
Sunshine on one side, and clouds moving steadily along, matching the ripples in the sea below them. 
Sparkles on the water, and the weed surging beneath the surface, back and forth.

And the salt air. And the words ringing in my ears from the earlier Sunday sermon.
"Three things your Spirit needs to encounter God; scripture, silence, solitude"
The silence and solitude were here. I usually rush through moments like these. 
There are things to be done/cleaned/sorted/completed/controlled.
This time I didn't rush. I sat, and let the silence in. 

Didn't run from the solitude, or turn to social media for 'company'.

This journey of being distraction free and hands free is a constant one. 

So much of our (my!) lure of social media comes from a need to be validated.
Heard, seen, appreciated. Dare I say admired?! Oh sneaky pride, you are ugly.

Then this

Open up before God, keep nothing back;
he'll do whatever needs to be done:
He'll validate your life in the clear light of day
and stamp you with approval at high noon.

Quiet down before God, 
be prayerful before him. 
Don't bother with those who climb the ladder,
who elbow their way to the top.*

A reminder to walk in humility.
To find my validation in who I am, and have been created to be, and from Him, not from the world; those who don't know me outside of a series of little pretty squares. 

Scripture, silence, solitude.*

These quiet moments, sitting, legs dangling, set the week's foundation for my mind and my heart. I hope to find myself here more often.


* Psalm 37:5-7 MSG

Inspire my July | soup, sunshine & not stopping

These days the sun comes in soft in the afternoons, hitting freshly made beds and kitty cat friends.
These days the kitchen smells of rosemary when it rains on the little hedge outside.
These days chai tea is the hot drink of choice, and I watch the steam erupt in waves from the top.
These days almond milk making is a therapeutic business, and there is often a jar of almonds on the [grubby] window sill. This will be my last batch until I buy some more almonds.
These days a pot of soup lasts for days, and carrot, red lentil and cumin is my favourite.
These days I want to run, but it's raining, or it's cold.
These days my head is full of wonderful yet busy things, and my mantra through the day is don't stop, just don't stop and it is amazing how many of those things are accomplished. Time so easily slips away, and one glance on my iPhone can steal too many minutes. 
We are called to not stop so many times. 
Don't stop praying.*
Don't stop hoping.**
Don't stop believing.***
Just don't stop.


* 1 Thessalonians 5:17
** Psalm 71:14
*** Romans 12:12

Inspire my July | birthday girl

I've been a mama for over 8 years now.
For about 5 of those I was either pregnant, breastfeeding, or getting ready to get pregnant again. It was a whirlwind time.
Today, my baby turned four.
It saddens me sometimes, that so many milestones for us as a family are well and truly behind us. 
Newborn scent, cots and nappies, and snuffly tiny baby noises. 
Big siblings meeting brand new baby siblings. 
The quiet in the early hours with just you and that tiny human you are nourishing with your body. 
The neighbourly peeks into your pram at shopping centres and the gushing over tiny dark headed babes wrapped tight.
Those days.

Now, this four year old delight is the baby of our family. And while it's easy to remember the good old days as just that, I know they were full of sleepless nights and ranting mamas and pure exhaustion. And I need to be thankful and present in the here and now.
She helps me to be right here.
With her still-squishy arms and her deliciously full lips that are always wanting kisses.
With her crazy humour and her earnest questions and her pouts when she wants what she wants to no avail.
She is cheeky, and wild; daring and soft. 
And I feel like her birthday marks the end of an era in my motherhood journey.

Happy, sad and everything in between.


inspire my july | board games

I couldn't ever have pictured life, in this moment, from way back then. Could you?
I knew I was destined for motherhood, but I couldn't have known that it would look exactly this way. 
I did however, have hope for those things that family would look like. 
Dinners together, homework, afternoon tea. How our breakfast routine would look, and how we would spend our weekends. 
The movie nights, walks to school, long days at home and sneaky midnight visitors who curl up quietly inside our blankets are bonuses.
What I didn't fail to imagine though, was board games. 
In my mind, the ideal mother plays with her children. And while I so often miss the mark when it comes to reaching the ideals I hold so carefully, I am a mama who makes a conscious effort to play.
Some of my own fondest memories as a child were playing Monopoly, or different games of cards, or a simple game of Snakes & Ladders. I don't know why I loved it so much. 
Maybe because we were allowed to have treat foods, or possibly it was the uninterrupted time with mum and dad that we had. 
And now, what I'd imagined is here. 
Living this part of my motherhood dream is amazing. I am truly blessed.

What better time than winter, curled up on pillows on the lounge room floor, to play a game of Monopoly that continues for hours, and eat creamed rice pudding instead of dinner. 



inspire my july | not about me

Blogging can be a narcissistic business. 
Because I can only write about me: my experience, my life, my family, my faith. 
It's easy to become fixated on presenting myself in a certain way.
And although I strive to be real, and authentic, I know that there is only so much a reader can glean from my life.
So I try not to think about 'readers' and just spill the thoughts to the page. 
The thoughts today are less about me. 

Sometimes I look back on the past week or month, and can see a particular thread running through my life continuously. I can't see it at the time, but when I look back I can see it moving through conversations, laced in my actions and resulting in change. 
[which is why it's so important so spend time with people who know you, listen to you, and speak words of life]

Maybe these threads are like themes, or tiny seasons, or spirit-whispers.
They result in changes to how I spend my time, or how I use my words, or how I respond with grace to my smalls, or how I let go a hurt. 
The last month this thread is one that is making my heart ache, and making me restless to do something. Making me aware of my own narcissistic tendencies, and make a conscious effort to focus outward.
I'm stewing on an idea, that will have me putting hands and feet to this faith of mine in a practical need-meeting, on-purpose kind of way. 
While the idea is brewing, I'm treading slowly, enjoying long days (without kiddos this weekend) and seeing inspiration everywhere.

My #inspiremyjuly list is growing.

Fresh herbs
Books and library visits

This winter season is best at slowing us down, putting a temporary end to fast paced days, and allowing us to take delight in the sound of rain, and frost on windows.


* These pictures were taken last wednesday. I spontaneously took the kids rollerskating and we all loved it... and then brownies and cino's afterwards at a quick-and-easy-to-access cafe in Fremantle. Time well spent with my littles.

inspire my july | colour

Grey doesn't have to be miserable.
I am a grey girl. Too many grey t-shirts to count, I am drawn to it's ability to match with everything.
And these wintery days have me wearing it without feeling like I should really be wearing something brighter. 
And admiring the greys in the silvery skies, dark clouds and angry ocean, wind beating against my face, drops of salt spray and rain splatter. 
Brushing the shiny grey fur of my Indiecat with my fingers as she buries her head in her paws, curled up tight. 

And though I've felt a little bit stormy, and grey myself, I'm breathing in these cold days; still wrapping fingers around hot mugs of tea, as I wrap my heart around where I'm headed and how, just how I can do all this. 
Ever feel like you're drowning in a sea of crippling self-doubt? 
My self-talk hasn't been too kind lately, and I'm changing it.

And I suppose the brave is in the getting back, and getting up, and forgiving myself [for being the giant cringe-worthy dork I often feel like] and forgetting it all and just trying again.
The brave is definitely in the trying again. 
And the being put back together again.*

And they grey days are great days, and school-holiday-days, and we're searching for colour and for meaning all at once. 


* Psalm 119:105-112 MSG

inspire my july | winter adventures, school holidays

Late last night Daniel and I had one of those conversations.
One of those, lay-in-bed-bare-your-soul-in-the-dark ones.
The result was a decision together to both be more present. 
To make more effort to find adventure, see and hear both each other, the small people that crave our care and attention, and the voice of the Holy Spirit throughout our days.
We've been distracted. Clouded. 
We only have moments of clarity amongst days of procrastination and iphone-induced intrusion. 
He drew the line. 
Social media (and games, for him) will be limited to half an hour max in the evening while we boil the kettle and the kiddos are in bed.
We will be present, and hands-free.
In search of adventure.

Today we spent a glorious winters day in our city. We surprised our three favourite people with a trip for pancakes at our favourite place. We coffee-d and wandered and loved big - without being distracted by other people and places who weren't in our immediate here and now.

The perfect start to the school holidays.


inspire my july | write

Winter draws me in to cosy places armed with journals and pens and thoughts and words. 
July 1996, eleven-year-old me sat curled up, cosy, watching the Olympics, dreaming of competing as a gymnast and filling up my journal with hopes and dreams. 
The gymnastics dream was left behind only a few years later, but I haven't stopped writing. 
So many of my childhood memories involve my journalling.
On the trampoline in the sunshine, or taking notes after climbing the tallest gumtree in our back yard, or scribbling away in the back of the car on long trips. 

Mostly though, its the wet, rainy days I remember. 
These are the days that spark inspiration to write. 
Staring at raindrops making their way in bursts down windows, waiting for the words to come.

This afternoon it rained, heavy. And the softness of my bed drew me in, journal under my arm, pens at the ready, raindrops doing their thing. And I realised that winter is by far void of inspiration; in fact it seeps in all the cracks with it's cold, and births something new.
The way the wet ground hides the seeds and all the promise of spring. The life that is getting ready to burst through. 
Cosy, wet days have inspiration bubbling under the surface, ready to tumble it's way out to the cold.

I hope you are staying cosy-warm, and much inspired despite gloomy weather.


inspire my july | winter woolies

I really hate being cold. And I feel it in a big way.
And sometimes it feels tedious wearing layer upon layer.
But winter clothes? So beautiful and snug, soft and cosy.
I love knit jumpers, and cardigans and long woollen socks pulled up over leggings, and boots and skirts, and tights with dresses. 
Draping scarves around my neck, and slipping my boots over warm socks for the morning walk to school is something I miss in the middle of summer when I'd give anything for the mornings to be cooler, and crisp like our July days. 

The girls pull on their mittens and coats and cuddle themselves warm as we step outside, and as the kiddos climb on their bikes they marvel at the clouds they create with their warm breath.

There is also something about pulling on a coat to leave the house that sends me dreaming about New York and Canada and Europe. I can almost feel it. I close my eyes for a second, and imagine living in a faraway exotic white-Christmassy place. 

My wanderlust is ignited once more as I feel soft wool around my neck and pull it up around my cheeks. I breathe the crisp air, and thanks for this winter. 


PS Thanks to a bestie with only the best legs I know for modelling this pic. She is wearing a clever Percy skirt made by the super clever Bec @naughtyshorts (you can see her shop here)