Weekend Grateful: Love What You Have, Do Not Crave What You Have Not.

It is Weekend Grateful time once more, and this weekend it is being guest hosted! Wow, incredibly brave of Maxabella to let her baby out of her hands.

Even though I should be doing a Dad grateful on this Father's Day weekend, I am not. For the sun is shining, the air is sweet and the birds are singing up here in mountain magicland. And so I have decided to let you in on my wondrous place of life... I am so grateful to live here surrounded by nature, laughter and friends.

Drive on in...

Come on down...

Don't trip on the fountain, just make your way round.

We've cleaned up the garden

Pondered the post...

Excuse the nude lady, some think she's a ghost.

We've pixies a chattin'

And glorious trees

And as I sit writing, my view is of these.

Welcome.



Coincidence...

I LOVE the house Melissa @ Suger Coat It has posted as her dream home. This one:

Why wouldn't I?

After all it is very eerily similar to this:

Our place. Yep, this is where we call home.

Even the wall colour (go to her blog and check it out) is the same as our feature walls.

Ignore mess. This is my retreat where I work. And my weirdly odd Ikea reject room chair. Cause I'm quirky.

Sorry Mel, just couldn't resist showing you.

Sometimes it is Hard to go Back...

We have had a lovely break, and are now on our return journey back to the mountain. We are sitting back at Tinonee, home of my heart, staying an extra night as Boy 1 is not well with a virus.

And now I come to the crux of this post. I do not want to go home. I do not want to return to the petty bitching nastiness I have faced since July last year. I do not want to have to deny lies, justify innocent comments, or explain myself and my family anymore. In all honesty, if I had a choice ( and I do not), I would move everyone back here. To this little town where my childhood friends are. To the place where people have known me for decades and KNOW ME. Where they are not swayed by utter crap, or conned by professional victims. Where liars are exposed, ridiculed and made to back off.

My children are excited to be on their way home. I am not.

*Sigh*. Back to the bullshit.

Ah, Home.

You can never go back, they say. But I would disagree with them. I have now lived in three other places and travelled the world twice, but I still call the small country town of my childhood home.

I am here for only a few nights, yet already the worries of the world and the weight of tension have left me. Aaah, home.

I love this place.

We ate takeaway, drank wine and played Trivial Pursuit with old friends last night.

Manning Point, NSW

We went fishing and watched the sunset in the briskness of a winter afternoon (we caught ten very small fish: eight brim, two puffer fish, much to the excitement of all) today.

*Sigh*. Life is full of simple pleasures in the land of my childhood. I lived here for the first eighteen years of my life, and have always come home frequently. It is my life source, and all ills heal if I return. My power charger, the battery that keeps my spirit intact.

If you want to see more of the little cottage where we are staying, go here.

And tomorrow we leave. We head to Sydney via a Newcastle luncheon, and more reunions with good friends. I will probably enjoy Sydney, it was home for the second part of my life: University, career, partying. The second eighteen years. But that is another story, and in all liklihood, another post this week.

December 13: Change #best09

What's the best change you made to the place you live?

Gwen Bell Best of 2009 Challenge

The best change I have made here is finally getting out into the gardens! If you read my last post you'll know I have grand plans for our three acres of heaven. Unfortunately, our lifestyle and also the size of our place leaves little time to achieve these dreams. We now have someone who we pay to help keep things under control. In summer you can literally watch the grass grow right in front of your eyes!

So here are a few of the bits I have managed to start with.


We have a very sloped area in front of our retaining wall, and large rock steps which lead to it. I had a garden arch previously, but we did not secure it and it blew away in one of the violent storms. I have wanted to replace it for years, this year I did.

I have a gorgeous climbing rose on the right, and had a climbing frangipani on the left. I also had some petunias in that pot, but the wild dog pack decided they need to dig in there each night and it is only just clinging to life.


Under our front stairs I had been cultivating a beautiful garden of cobblers pegs, wandering dew, and a variety of grasses and other weeds. It now looks a little better.

Small baby steps, but at least it is a start.

And I quite enjoy a challenge.

December 11: The Best Place #best09

A coffee shop? A pub? A retreat center? A cubicle? A nook?

Gwen Bell Best of 2009 Challenge

This is easy. I have an area off my bedroom I call my retreat. It is the one area in this big house which is all mine. Last Christmas Big Boy gave me a beautiful reproduction french lady's writing desk. It fits perfectly and has turned my little room into my place to write. I am surrounded by books, plush seats where my children can come, sit and chat, pretty bits and pieces.

My sanctuary.

Cleaning for the Cleaner

Yes, I am one of those women. I have a cleaner, with my life it is a necessary evil. I could run through all those numerous justifications I have stored at the ready, but I'm not going to. I save them for the many in real life who look me up and down and sneer: "YOU have a cleaner? Well, some people have it easy."

The funny thing is that I often wonder if it is more work getting ready for her arrival than it would be just to clean myself. Logically, I know that is not true, but in the midst of frantic picking up and putting away on a Friday morning the thought does get muttered underbreath more than once. I live in a manic household. Besides Boy 1 and Boy 2, Big Boy and I also have to contend with Cat 1 and Cat 2 (both long hairs) and a maniac cockatiel. Add in the numerous visitors for playdates and this house always seems to be in chaos.

And it is a big bloody house. So, here I am, Friday morning yet again and I am freaking out trying to get laundry away, toys and games picked up, cat litter changed, paperwork sorted (though everytime I do that I seem to lose bits), and generally create a false impression of a completely organised and efficient Madmother household.

It is worse at the moment because she is new. I try to ease our workers in gently, not have them walk into disarray and turbulance in the first few weeks. Lull them into thinking this place ain't so bad, and then slowly, slowly introduce them to the reality. Well, a limited reality because, let's face it, I sure as hell wouldn't let them see the real state of this crazy home! One day I am going to have a housekeeper who will organise my life whilst I sip cocktails and write on my laptop by the pool. One day I am also going to win the lottery. One day I will seek help for my delusions.

Cheers. Off to frantically clean for the cleaner.