perspective

Sometimes it's just about how you look at things. Your choice. See what you see. You choose your response. 

We've got a bit of shaking up going on down here and it's all exciting and unnerving and our brains are jangling a bit. You know that feeling? 

Take the one year old. How we love her. The way she makes our hearts stop when she dives off the kitchen table (miraculously uninjured.) The habit she has of speed-unrolling a roll of toilet paper and stuffing it down the leg of my jeans while I'm on the loo. Her new words: "let's go!" and "now!"

Without her we'd be less. (And there really is nothing a bowl of custard cannot improve.)

Perpective.

A single friend of mine referred to a friend of hers as a 'friend with benefits'. I am so naive I wondered if she meant he had an abundant garden that she got produce from. Maybe a hen? (Am I my Grandma yet?)

I have a few awesome friends with gardens and the benefit of wit. 

This guy dropped in yesterday, bringing produce.

Purple beans, ducks eggs, dehydrated and fresh-picked zukes. Now there's some benefits! Plus wit. He's a favourite in this house. 

While not here in this space I have unfortunately not been on a beach reading a novel. Or even better, in a forest writing a novel. Or even lying out in a paddock staring at my navel (or that of a small child.) I've been working. 

And cooking kilograms of tomatoes into pizza sauce.

(Seriously coveting Milkwood's new toy.)

We've been extending chicken pasture, moving pigs (successfully and drama-free!) and watching broiler chickens grow. 

We've been in the trailer and up the paddock. 

Looking at things from a different perspective.

And loving it. 

(And her, the wee rascal.)

xxx