Home Farm

In the seventies I came to England and lived in a Devon farmhouse called Home Farm.
The house was shared by four of us - Molly, Ronnie, Robert and me.
We were hippies and wanted to grow our own food and live off the land.
This is the Aga we huddled around that freezing winter.
There was ice on the inside of the bedroom windows.
Molly was upset because I needed to bath more than once a week.
And I bought blackberries from the supermarket.
I didn't realize they grew on hedges along lanes.
I had only just come here from Africa.

The Maker

My patchwork cover feels special to me, like a family heirloom.
It came from a charity shop and its origins are unknown.
Each patch is like a miniature work of art.
I study them closely, but can't decide which is my favourite.
One of them has the initials of the maker embroidered on it.
I am grateful to her.

PJs

Brand new pjs waiting for me on my pillow make me feel so so happy.
Duck egg blue with creamy dots in a light cotton fabric.
On a good day I will stay in pjs all day changing into a fresh pair in the evening.
The recent trend of wearing pjs in public excites me enormously.
Not sure I could actually do it though...

Home is where I want to be....mostly.

This has been my home for nearly thirty years.
The home where I have raised my family.
A place of refuge in a sometimes alien land.
Mostly, somewhere I feel safe, grounded and myself.

Just sometimes I long to walk out of the front door.
With a small bag on my back and no-one to say goodbye to.

Karoo Moon

Karoo evening, chilly crisp air after rain falls. Full moon rising

Cycling early in the morning, I've become aware of how the open sky lifts my mood.
Most of the time my focus is limited. I forget to lift my eyes to the heavens.
I came across this breathtaking image by Lisa Key of www.africanrelish.com

And my heart was filled with longing.

One Bowl Living

Every morning I eat porridge with a little honey from this bowl with this spoon.
The round-bottomed bowl carefully chosen so that it fits my cupped hand. I curl up in my favourite chair and eat slowly and with awareness. Then I wash my bowl and spoon by hand, completing the ritual, starting the day.
The bowl is a perfect irregular shape, rough textured and gently hued. I found it in a South African pottery in the town where my mother lives. www.wonkiware.co.za

Road Trip Dreaming

Valerie and I are desperate to get away.
Summer will soon be over.

Brakdakkie Running Through My Mind

I am obsessed with this place. Its name beats through my head in a rhythm.When I first saw these photos I was enchanted.
One day I will be there under a starlit Karoo sky. www.princealbert.org.za/brakdakkie

A Rainy Summer's Day

Could this be my beach shack ?
Images from Pinterest

Mint Havaianas

New mint havaianas - sang to me from the shop doorway.
A song of endless summer freedom.
Brazilian beach shacks.
Turquoise waves.
A rusty campervan.
Watermelon.
I want to live somewhere I can wear them all the time.