A day at the farm

Felix is the perfect age for a visit to the farm.  This is a family tradition.  Every one of my school holidays had some time spent here.  They are twenty kilometres outside town which is easy to visit anytime really.

Approaching the long driveway past the cottage and sheds to the main house.

A rustic entrance to the house yard.

The family car bought in the year my mum was born 1959.  It spent the later part of it's life rusting away in the machinery shed as newer cars were purchased used and also parked to make way for a newer model.

My grandparents never part with anything.  My Grandma is a hoarder and struggles to throw anything away.  She is into vintage and recycling and doesn't have any idea how cool that is.

They are from a generation that fixed things when broken, were sensible with their money and made work again what was broken rather than the disposable culture of today.

The little vw is now restored to her former glory and a little indulgence for Grandma's retirement.  She proudly shows it off on trips to town as the second car.

Talking about the weather and when the rain will come at the shed.

Walking past the paddocks to the chook house to see the baby chicks. 

The vegie patch.

Living the simple life.......not as a trendy modern treechange..........this is just the life on the land they have lived as their parents before them did also.

a slight obstacle :: technology failure

Something terrible has happened.  My camera is officially ready for the grave.  I really can't complain as we bought it secondhand for twenty bucks.  An avid photographer was upgrading and wanting to offload his old one.

I have a suspicion that it may have met it's end due to allowing Felix to hold it at cross country as a distraction while I cheered Lachlan past the finish line.

It was the bargain of the decade as it took brilliant shots outdoors and passable ones inside.

This is taken on my laptop and will be one of the last pictures posted until I reach Mum's place and lend hers for our month long visit in Queensland.

I giggle to myself when I hear another native Tasmanian rave about how much they love Queensland.  They really give me a strange look and wonder if I need my head examined for leaving such a coveted destination.

Going to the theme parks and holidaying here is almost an assumed mandatory family way to holiday.  So many talk about moving there which seems ridiculous to me.  They hate the cold which I find so very refreshing after a lifetime of melted make-up and clothing peeled off after being attached by sweat.  I never was a real beach girl and would prefer to look at the ocean on a chilly day from a hillside wood heated outlook.

It is all relative to your life experiences thus far.  For me the thought of escaping the endless, sticky, oppressive and ghastly hot summers was pure Joy.  That's how the islanders feel about their winter and are convinced that the mainland holds magical opportunities and adventures.

I know the truth though, this is the promised land.  The four seasons are delightful, the cold passes and while here provides an opportunity for hot soup, chocolate, curries and puddings.  For a lady who likes to bake, this is pure bliss.  The autumn leaves are magnificent.  The chilly winter air mixed with bright warm sun and glorious mountain snow in the distance is just perfect for me.

I will enjoy my time away but home is in this beautiful waterside city.

Two

What a fun day for Felix.  A dragon birthday cake.  Friends for morning tea.  Happy Birthday sung loudly with cheers.

He was however terrified by the gift we gave him, a drill and tool kit.  He removed the drill as he was frightened by it and replaced the space with my beads and told me he was going to the shops.

He is such a quirky little guy and such a source of constant amusement and laughter.  Annabelle had the best time playing with the balloons.

The constant wrestle :: logic verses revelation

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I have had a week of challenges.  The keen awareness of the complexity of the human life existing in a complex and broken world has weighed heavy on my heart.

Suffering seems common place for many around me at present.  I think that these periods of life that require hard work and grace in your guts, give a fresh perspective on the struggles of the people around us.

This is a good thing as it unites and comforts others and gives them permission to be honest and lighten their load in the sharing of it.

This has been taught to me by some dear friends (who know who they are) who have provided a safe and encouraging place to share the ugliness of situations I would rather not deal with at all.  To talk, be heard, and then be understood and loved is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.

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It is amazing to me that the Lord can use us even in our most broken state, in fact, I wonder if that is the exact place he works best.  In our weakness, it can be nothing other than his strength.

However there is another option, to fall so deeply into self- pity or obsession that you lose all ability to listen, walk in another's shoes or have any compassion at all.  God must struggle to work in that place.

Another less desirable effect can be to compare and compete our respective suffering.  A fight to be heard and understood can manifest in confusion and anger and resentment.....and just being plain stuck.

I choose change, I choose to rise up and go on and live less broken one day at a time.  I choose to be more of a blessing than a burden, more honest than hidden.  I choose to listen more and talk less. (This one will be hard for those who know me!)

I choose to listen to the revelations that God whispers to my spirit rather than figure it all out in my human (limited) ability.

Thankyou faithful friends who help me keep doing this....and turn my eyes back to the Grace of our God.  I am blessed.

Baking :: Chocolate Almond Cake

This past weekend was full of fun things to do, markets with a friend, football match with Lachlan and an interesting discussion on atheism sunday evening.  Well, I hear it was interesting as I was changing nappies and amusing the babies during the whole thing.  One to download later from here

After such a hectic weekend, I needed some thinking, breathing, praying space so decided to bake this morning.  I really love cooking, especially cakes.  Odd that what seems a chore to some is a welcome escape for me.  

I have loved cooking since I was a little girl.  I was always pestering Mum to let me make some new creation or plan a dinner party.  My aunts, uncles and grandparents were the guests of honour.  I went through fazes of homemade chocolates, made for all special occasions, again, the relatives obliged my ego with compliments and approval.

Making crafty things was another all consuming passion as a child.  It is funny that those things never leave just get stored away somewhere in the soul.  They damp down to a small flame waiting for the right moment to be stoked into a fire again.  I think to make, delight and admire what we make is the very nature of who we are, as creations of the one who is the perfect creator....our heavenly father.  If we are created in his image and likeness surely this must be true.

This is possibly the yummiest cake made without flour I have ever had.  I have been waiting six months while on the silly diet to make it.  The bookmark has been taunting me with the reminder  of the tempting recipe it reveals.  It is a cross between a mudcake and a brownie............and well............simply amazing.

The end result of this morning brings me to another conclusion, I am not meant to diet.  It takes up too much of my thoughts when what I really love to do is cook.  It is a passion, a gift, a way of life. It's who I am.  The hospitality queen.  Therefore, until further notice, the weight watching is over and the living begins.