sneaky jack frost

Dang.....it's freaking cold!  I know, I know, I love cold weather, usually.  Today it just stinks.

I am hating the fact that I don't even care that I wore my ugg boots outside the house (in true bogan style) into the car and drove to training drop off.  That is a first for me.

I am not sure whether it's because I got a taste of freedom by way of a weekend without the responsibility of the smalls or the sneaky winter wind blowing via the snow covered mountain behind me which has gotten my feathers ruffled?

Dang snow!  Dang blissful relaxed coffee and company!  Dang return to reality!

I am feeling a little excited yet also a little overwhelmed about the relentless schedule of events that comes with winter sports season, birthdays, farewells and mini breaks and interstate visitors in coming weeks.

Now that I have vented, as per the mission of this blog, I turn to sweeter things and gracious thoughts and joy at the blessings I have experienced this past week.

The extravagent generosity of friends to make impossible......... possible.

The hearty laughter of family enjoying an unexpected piece of time together.

The cuddles of two beautiful little nephews.  Their smiles heartwarming and soothing.

The remembrance of the greatest man I have ever known.  The challenge to live with heart and passion and compassion as he did.

The serendipity of bumping into friends from the past in a random cafe.

The delight of time well spent with a kindred spirit.

The extra leg room on the plane.

The beautiful city awaiting to greet my weary soul on return with a spectacular display of autumn highlights.

Friends to love my children while I am away so that they do not want for anything.

The realisation that life is full of joyful moments right there for the taking.  If we are open and ready to grab them with both hands.

There is only one to thank....you humble me Lord.

ladies lunch please :: my favourite girls

Missing my two best friends today....my lovely sisters.

So much so that today...I am even considering that my days in Hobart may be numbered.

We just 'get' each other.  We know the dirty little secrets and love each other anyway.  We share the best and worst of ourselves and know we have only to ask (or not) and we have got each other's back.

Fancy 'Nancy' and Posh 'Prue'.  Love you girls...xxoo

The King :: faithful treasured friend

One of the most incredible of his miracles in my life to date, is the gift of grace to me in a dear special man. His name is Kingsley.....who became as a father to a daughter for me.   We met each morning for many months at a local coffee shop to start the day with conversation and a coffee.  This was after he had swum a dozen or so laps at the pool.....as one does in their early eighties.  

He always put the sugar in my coffee and reserved a special seat for me.  He treated me with dignity and interest and a position of honor and would introduce me as his surrogate daughter.   He shared exciting tales of celebrity meetings and overseas adventures and also the ordinary things of life.  He had written many short stories and shared them with me over those months. 

We became the best of friends and he was God with skin on.  He loved me and taught me how a father loves a daughter and I came to see God as my father.  Finally, I had a true view of who he (God) was and was no longer afraid of him being angry and disappointed or ashamed of me.  I was a daughter of the most, high King and nothing else mattered.  

My shoulders started to straighten up and I lifted my head high.  I could feel the love of God almost as tangibly as the comfort of sunshine on my face on a winters day.  

When I would take a walk in the morning or evening, the words….you are a daughter of the king, the most high God would echo in my mind and I began to run into his arms deeper and deeper and my confidence in that identity was finally formed and growing. 

In finding this new relationship, after surrendering all control of my life to him, the healing came.  The gift of the very thing I had missed was right there in my life for the taking.  A real life "surrogate" father to love, delight and heal my soul.

The heart of the father had been revealed and I felt like I was living for the first time in the sense that my real life as the woman I had always been created to be and now revealed had just begun.  I knew who I was.  Some people might have thought I had changed dramatically yet I felt like I was coming “back” to myself and stepping into who I truly was rather than the broken impostor that had stood in my shoes for many years.   

My dearest friend "the king"  saw who I was straight away.  He believed in me and cherished me like his own daughters and would always encourage me to new heights with the words "your doing everything right....keep doing what you are doing".  There is something very empowering about spending time with people who know who they are, where they have been and who they belong to.  His gift to me was to believe in who God was within me.

We sat and talked about the future and he gave his blessing when I moved down south.  He shared with me that he didn't often remember his dreams but before I left he had one that assured him that I was going to be just fine.

Not that he didn't try to persuade me to move back home with many regular letters and hints that my chair was still vacant at the cafe each morning and an empty sugar sachet to remind me of the special place I had and the prayer he would say for me each and every day.

I loved to receive his mail and in more recent times a little encouraging text message.  He embraced technology and his capacity to care for and encourage others seemed without limits.

I know heaven shall applaud and God will welcome this faithful servant into the courts of the most high "King".

Such grief for not being able to share one more story and coffee ........ but forever grateful and humbled by who you were in my life.  See you on the other side dear friend.

on the topic of small gatherings

There seems to be a recurring theme emerging for me right now.  I come from a long line of family who love to cook, be hospitable, entertain and share a meal with friends and family alike.  I am most alive when caring for someone by cooking up something special and providing an experience for my guest.

I want them to feel as though they have "come home" to a place of peace and belonging and to know that they were expected, prepared for and their arrival joyfully anticipated.

Lately it feels as though something that was placed in limbo whilst wrangling and raising the smalls is beginning to re-surface and it feels so, so good.  I am coming back to myself and I love the possibilities and conversations and shared experiences which naturally follow.

Today I have been inspired by a mag that I haven't yet gotten my hands on.  'Kinfolk'  is the name and I have a suspicion that it's full of my kind of stuff.  Next task, track down a supplier.  Am pretty sure that it may be a hard ask in my neck of the woods.  

I just love the kinfolk manifesto  and cannot wait to get my hands on a copy.

resurrecting the potluck :: fun times

A potluck is a gathering of people where each person or group of people contributes a dish of food prepared by the person or the group of people, to be shared among the group.

I have such fond memories of pot luck dinners with three very dear friends of mine.  Intelligent, funny, gorgeous and pals who would get together for a meal a wine and a good old fashioned fun night together.  Plenty of nonsense and frivolity and lots of treasured memories together.  

Many days have passed since then, John married and running the family farm, Mel back in Adelaide teaching at uni, Pete running his own successful real estate business and new father to a gorgeous little girl.  

I think the time is ripe to start a southern pot luck tradition.  

The idea is that everyone brings something along, be it entree, main or dessert and no one can tell what they are bringing.  A little fun and a good chance to get together.  Happy Days.