In the world of Lou...

I am having one of those productive days; spurred on by a few terse words between myself and my beloved this morning about the uselessness of our house filing system. I loathe filing. Paperwork and admin are my worst, worst activities. So I shove everything in a drawer and hope for the best until one of those days arrive where something has to be located. Rapid leafing through pile after pile of un-filed paper ensues, until defeat is admitted or the key item is triumphantly discovered! I wish I were more organised...

via tick tock vintage

After the long weekend, I am settling back into the norm of work days and home days, interspersed by the school run. Term time offers the calm of a quiet house during the day, an opportunity to regroup and to not be Mummy for a few hours. But in return is the tyranny of the drop-off/pick-up/homework/sports matches. I like it though, as I get to go running more and to plan appointments for things I normally don't have time for, like the homeopath or beautician. It's pedicure season; one luxury I afford myself in the summer months.

How can it be May already? I feel like April went by in a whirlwind of Spring days; it really was a fabulous month. Now May means Boo's birthday - she will be a whole decade old. Impossible. My Boo? Surely not; I remember when she looked something like this...

via a lady's findings...washing eggs to be sold at the farmers market, near Falls Creek, Pennsylvania, 1940, Jack Delano.

Trying to eat well (as in really trying; have cut out a-l-h-o-t of bad stuff and it's good but also exhausting cooking everything from scratch). But then when food can look as beautiful as this, I figure it's worth the effort.

photograph from Canelle et Vanille - this food blog is just beautiful...

I am just trying to get on top of everything again, trying to be a better me.

Oh and before I forget - here is what I think:

It's gotta be Prince William.

Ballet - all the way.

Bikini - for as long as I can.

Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge (let's call her Kate as we are between friends...)

Could not live without tea. Chocolate a close second...

Really really want to be plan in advance, but something always ends up last minute (I wish I were more organised!)

Skinny jeans.

Go it alone on holiday planning - did an all inclusive once; probably not again!

Worrier, Worrier, WORRIER!

Emerald.

Light and floral on the perfume front - I wear Diptyque.

'When Harry Met Sally' - all time classic.

Botox - currently no. Think I will stick on that point.

I love getting into summer clothes - we are so deprived on the weather front...sun = instant wardrobe high.

Marilyn Monroe.

First thought...universally it seems we all agree on this: is it morning already?!

Mental note: go to bed earlier!

Hey...Wednesday muse?

Easter is done, the children happily dispatched back to school (in summer uniform as well; nothing like little boys in short trousers and a blazer). I have had more than a glimpse of the sun and have revelled in every minute. Here she goes again about the weather! What would it be like to live in a warm climate? As someone said to me today - England doesn't have any constants in weather; each day can bring a deviation from the seasonal norm. A ten degree temperature differential, day to day, is commonplace.

via bippityboppityboo photograph by Hazel West

I am thinking a lot about me. This must be an indication that all is well with life as my thoughts have shifted from everyone else to myself. I am wondering: am I comfortable in my own skin? I think a lot about the ageing process and so want to be OK with it. I dearly want to just accept it gracefully - where can I find the wisdom to look at my younger self and not feel a tinge of regret that those days have gone? I said I would look forward and I will...but I am finding that the past is filling up behind me, like an enormous sack of memories and nostalgia and it feels somehow greater and heavier than the sack that contains the future. Does that make sense? Is this midlife? Is that what this is? Please distill wisdom...it will be gratefully received!

Today, I am delighted to have some time alone again, I am putting my home (life) back together after the what I have christened to be 'brain haze' of school holidays. Suddenly now focus is regained and I can actually get it together to make that appointment/sort that stuff/make stuff happen. This will, for sure, make me more centred by the evening as I am a simple soul, who likes nothing better than a pile of ironed clothes or soup out of a glut vegetables or a clear table top. It's the getting done that I like.

via bippityboppityboo from here

Day of doubt...

If ever I doubt my 'working mother' choice it's on a Tuesday. As I have Mondays off, Tuesday is my Monday. Back to work after a lovely long weekend; the stark contrast between my home days and work days on full show. The school run slightly more stressy due to high heels. The drive to work an attempt to empty my mind of home actions and focus on work actions. The meetings where I realise with a little shiver shock of guilt that I have thought of neither child for hours. The email inbox mounting up all the while.

via a lady's findings from things is cool

Then at the end of the work day, the commute back, the school pick-up late and getting tired. We reach home, I change into my home evening uniform of comfies. Immediately as we enter the house I am tidying up from our hasty departure that morning; simultaneously clearing porridge bowls and cooking their evening meal. Swift cuppa tea, homework and re-stocking school bags (make an Easter Bonnet out of recycled materials to be brought to school the day after tomorrow! Ugh the extra curricular activity that is the bane of the working mother's life). I try to maintain some semblance of happy motherly mealtime, knowing that once their meal is done and they are in bed, I will do it all again for my husband's return home. This is modern life. I know there are ways I could do it that would be easier - I could let the house be a mess, I could eat with the kids and let him fend for himself when he gets home. But for me that kinda misses the point...

I get the stage in the evening when I long for some time to just reflect on the day. I want to catch up on blogs and watch trashy TV. To enjoy a glass of wine when he gets home.

But then, as it all dies down and I consider the prospect of a day off work tomorrow (I do love being part time) I come to the conclusion it's just Tuesdays. I have enormous empathy for working mothers who work full time; where every day represents my Tuesday. My heart goes out to you and my hat goes off to you. With no condesedence inferred. I know every household has its hardships and its gems of goodness, time to enjoy the goodness in mine.

via a lady's findings from ornamelle

Lather, rinse, repeat...

I am struck how much of life is on a repeat cycle. I wonder is this just the nature of my life now? Things have levelled out for me; much to do with my children being older and I find the days and weeks seem to be merging into each other. This is also underlined by the fact that I am working on a project that feels almost identical to the project that I worked on this time last year. There is a distinct feeling of deja vu...

via are so happy, photograph from Isabel Amyo

I saw an old friend on this week; we stole away for a day to do nothing but talk over a long lunch, completely oblivious to those around us! I thought, whilst sitting opposite this utterly familiar face how much time has passed since we met almost twenty years ago. Twenty years!! We met in my first week of University, along with rest of 'the girls' who formed a group of my best buddies. Can it really be nearly twenty years?! I know I harp on about the passing of time and clearly my acceptance of this fact of life is not quite in place; I am in denial. However despite that, there is something about the richness of numerous years that I love. Of course the years that pass equate to us all growing older (yes: wrinkles), but there is something wonderful about having that shared history.


Back to the repeat cycle...so it seems my days turn into weeks and before I know it, we are almost three months into the new year. Is 2011 on some sort of accelerated pace? Along the way, I do find myself considering how many activities I repeat day after day. The morning cuppa tea, the school run, the picking-up of items in the house and reassigning to the 'right' place. Endless preparation of food. The 'porridge pot' of laundry (perfect analogy from my friend, derived from one of my favourite childhood stories). Yet for all of this repetition I am not weary or bored. I find myself where I want to be. The repeat cycle just gives me something to muse about as I go. I sense though that I live for the moment; I rarely think about the future, other than to look forward to the next family holiday. The past is largely a source of gratefulness; for what I have done, for what I have achieved and with whom. I am trying to relish this sameness as I know that change will come, in whatever form, at some point...

I am whole. Via are so happy, photograph by Kathryn Barnard, via design sponge

Tell all...

Hello, it's time to share again...I like to have these little audits every now and then! Are you with me? If you had to choose an answer of the two options below, could you? I know from responses before that sometimes people really struggle with this! Life is full of choices... xxx

Emily Blunt via Sunday in bed

Emily Blunt or Emily Bronte?

Baby boy or baby girl?

Gift from a friend: bunch of flowers or homemade cupcakes?

Getting dressed: lots of layers or clean minimal lines?

Skittish magazine devourer or absorb-every-line book reader?

If you could: spend money on art or invest in stocks and shares?

Raybans or Oakleys?

Little white lies or forever truthful?

Natalia Vodianova via pretty stuff

Best asset: face, body or mind?

Love a good argument or neutral and non-confrontational?

Sunday lie-in or early morning walk?

Bloody Mary or Strawberry Daquiri?

Sunrise or sunset?   

Secret-keeper or ready to spill the beans?

Ocean-front house or mountain chalet?

Doer or thinker?

via this flickr

Mes pensées (my thoughts!)...

A thought provoking time. We all know that I am a thinker; nothing new there. But a week away has sent me off into some sort of stratosphere of pondering. We returned to the same place to have the the same holiday that we have had year on year, yet this time something in me has come back different, ever so slightly uncertain. This is my reasoning for why:

We stayed in a place where there were 19 people - everyone shares dinner, it's very sociable. There were families there with little children - as in under 2's. It leaped out at me: how grown up our kids are. This thrills and appalls me in equal measure! Where did the time go? In a heartbeat they will be teenagers and I will look wistfully at families with a five and nine year old.

I am a downright mediocre skier. I have decided that skiing is one of those things that you only reach a level of real competence and skill if you start when you are three years old. I know, I know, there are probably some who manage to excel without that childhood background, but I would hazard a guess they are i) not mothers and ii) have no fear and iii) have a fitness level of an Olympic athlete. I also deduced that I rarely participate anymore in pursuits that I am mediocre at. I only like things that I am good at. Is this defeatist? Meh...

For the duration of our stay I did not lift a finger in the domestic department. I enjoyed this a disproportionate amount. What does this mean? Am I idle and slovenly? I found that having a chef make food for the children (yea, really) was the most divine thing in my day. OK, well second to the stunning Alpine scenery.

My ski instructor told me he spends his winters in the Alps and his summers crewing luxury boats off the shore of Cannes. I found myself wondering - why did I make the serious and responsible choices I did? Why am I not living that type of life?! Hmmm...

As I stood amongst what seemed like a million French people waiting for the bubble lift I did think to myself: this happens every day. People here queue up to scale the mountain all the time and meanwhile I am in my little corner of England. Probably doing the washing up. Meaning?

In certain circumstances in French restaurants I find that my brain has the capacity to recall long-lost snippets of pigeon French, learned in my teens. Je vais avoir la soupe à l'oignon, puis le foie gras, avec la tarte aux framboises à la fin. Oui, s'il vous plaît.



My husband is a remarkable skier; I never want to ski (be) with anyone but him.

I need to get comfortable with my age. I have decided that at nearly 37 - I am neither young nor old.

I ate so much cheese. It was bordering on obscene. How is it that French women remain slim?

All this and more...as after all, travel broadens the mind. Meanwhile I feel guilt for all this personal introverted musing (in my charmed life) when around me the world is in chaos...earthquakes, governmental coups, War. 'Nuff said. Life is a journey.

So what's new with you?

each of these three images are from a lady's findings

Full circle...

I go in this full circle every few months. It happens like this...

I make lots of mental and emotional deals with my inner self to try very hard at life and be generally better at everything. I will be a patient and loving mother who gives quality time to her children. I will nurture them and support them. I will be a high-performing employee who is respected for her intellect and expertise in equal measure. I will be an attentive and sparky friend to all of my dearly cherished buddies, regularly meeting up to catch up and share. I will clear my house of all plastic kiddie atrocities and keep it resembling a feature in 'Country Living' at all times. I will eat healthily and responsibly; sourcing local and in-season ingredients to make delicious and nutritious food for myself and my family. I will maintain my hair, body and face so all three are in harmony and a glorious representation of what a 36 year old woman can look like. I will get dressed and treat every day like it is a 'Sartorialist' day. I will wear thoughtful and appropriate outfits characterised by subtle, cool details that people (mainly other women) will admire. I will spend my money responsibly and not fritter it away on unnecessary purchases.

And then some time passes, I try really hard and this is what happens...

I am patient and supportive to my kids for less time than I honestly consider is 'enough'. I secretly long to get online and surf/blog/buy rather than spend time playing games with them (eeek, confession). I feel disillusioned with my employer as I give and give and give and don't get quite so much back. Months go by and I realise I have not spoken to friends and/or have forgotten a birthday. My house goes in peaks and troughs of tidiness; a 'Country Living' spread would be a distinct impossibility today! I eat bad food and then wonder why I have no energy. On the outfit front it's hit or miss - some days are Ugg days. I am longing to buy spring clothes to lift my wintry mood but the funding is not quite there. I could go on....

Then, the next stage in the circle is I think of others who are considerably worse off than me. Friends and acquaintances who have been dealt cards that are so much harder to accept than mine. And I conclude two things: i) I need to get a grip and ii) things really aren't so bad. Finally I decided I need to cut myself some slack, relax and try to enjoy life more without making it all such a Herculean effort.

And off we go again...welcome to the circle :-)

Heart on sleeve post...

We make our choices. Maybe it's something about the quiet dullness of January; all the fun of Christmas has departed leaving economising and diets. I defiantly asserted that I was to have no resolutions this year. Instead though, my mind is full of thoughts of life choices, or wonderings and musings about what I observe around me.

There have been some odd local events that have led me to consider how my age equates to some sort of life test. I am well and truly mid-30s. I see friends and acquaintances struggle with the waves of life that did not seem to cause a ripple in our 20s'. Serious illness, wayward children, schooling (where to go? Will it be 'good' enough?), aging or departed parents, the dreaded spectre of marital infidelity. It seems as I look around, that for many of my friends, the honeymoon period is over.

Isn't it typical of life's rich tapestry that when reaching some semblance of maturity,  life chooses that exact moment to throw at us its toughest lessons?

I am conscious that I am at an age where the life choices that I have made are coming home to roost. The career choice; the dogged determination with which I maintain my 'working mother' role, holding down a challenging job and wanting to be there for school pick up simultaneously. I recite the mantra to myself 'you can only do your best' by way of comfort; but is this my best?

Then there's marriage. I am very happily married. I feel the need to state that point. However I also acknowledge that the happiness comes at a price. I married a man who works very hard and is ambitious and therefore, we find, is not home much. I married a man who loves rugby and therefore spends his Saturday afternoons running round a muddy field with other men! So here I am, with two children with whom I spend 85% of my time alone.

Similarly with material possessions. The more you have the more you seem to need; yet the grasp of what one really needs in life is loosening. It is possible to feed a family of four with careful planning and adept cooking, but if you have more to spend, you do. This then ultimately leads to waste. Waste makes me troubled; throwing away food or making meals that remain uneaten.  The more worldly possessions we have the more we seem to need to update; 'get rid of the old'. But where do all of these old possessions go? Now that IKEA exists, arguably there is no need to keep hold of anything for future use as there is the ability to 'buy new'. Is the ambition that causes my husband and I to work so hard is to enable a better life misguided? I wonder this when the better life presents itself in all its glory - stressed parents, forgotten chores, mixed-up dates, lost admin (where is that much-needed bit of paperwork that was placed somewhere 'safe'?) I wonder what are we doing? Was this the plan? We spent the weekend running around like maniacs trying to get it all done in our 'days off'!


And so it dawns on me that in just a few short months I will reach my 37th birthday. Somehow as each year passes that increasing number surprises me; that reality has become true, I feel like I am forever 28 in my mind, it's just my body that betrays the fact. If not 28, then maybe 30. Yet I have to say I am happier in my own skin now than I have ever been. I recall reading articles where celebrities would say that their 30s were better than their 20s as they knew who they were, had discovered their style, they were 'at one'. I wasn't sure I believed them; being in your 20s must be better than being in your 30s? However now I am here I agree; I feel like I now know. I have learned.

What astounds me is how life proffers this learning in such an imperceptible way. As we go along there are things that teach us and mould us; is there ever an end result? Will 40 mean I am fully grown up? 45? This march of time and life fascinates me and I spend an inordinate amount of time wondering how I feel about it. What's it all for? Am I making mistakes as I go? How will I know? Will it be too late to rectify?

I am so much more self aware now than before. I am struggling to describe this without using the word mature, but when the cap fits...I do feel that I have matured into myself.

I don't expect answer to this - just putting it out there into the cosmos...in case it chimes with anyone...

via it's mary ruffle

Precarious...

I learned something today that has made me realise how utterly precarious life can be. How we charge around making a million little decisions and worrying and wanting; thinking about everything and nothing. Then sometimes something blindsides us and we find ourselves in an unknown world, facing unknown truths. Where everything we thought to be real isn't. To watch this happen to someone else, as a bystander is a surreal experience and makes me quake with the realisation of how precious my life is. I read my previous post of just yesterday, what was that? When today, although my life has not changed, I have seen someone else's change beyond recognition. Makes me want to package my little life up in cotton wool and protect it. Not take it for granted. But the worst of it is this: why is it that someone else's heartache is what it takes for me to appreciate my life with its current lack of heartache?

via tinywhitedaisies

Stop...

So there is a big irony here. This week and next week represent for me the ultimate pre-Christmas hectic-ness. The last two weeks of school - many, many events for the Boos from the Nativity to choir concerts to end-of-term discos. Oh, and final Christmas shopping (in an attempt to get it done, done, done). Oh and work (another big project looming). I have a calendar that rivals a head of state.

image via tinywhitedaisies

Yet in amongst this crazy-busy madness I attended a meeting yesterday at work where there was a motivational speaker. I felt I hardly had time to see this speaker; I went into work on my day off to do so, necessitating yet more organisational challenges! His contention was that in this busy world, we need to stop. Stop. Think. Consider. He showed this video, which kinda spoke to me, along with everything he said. What would happen if I just stopped for a while? Just a few minutes? How would it impact my day?

Talking of stopping...voting for the Best Blog closes today, so trying stopping by there and clicking on my blog! Easy-peasy...

Grrr....

Something work-related has made me so cross I find myself wandering around my house in a grump, thinking grrrrrrrr.... This is one of the few issues with being part time. This constant splitting of my attention; it never feels quite sufficient in either home or work camp. Even on days off my laptop is there, glowing away with new additions to my inbox; it's the gift that keeps on giving. When things blow up at work it's generally on the days I don't work, so there is always this feeling of catch-up involved. Like I dropped the ball, except I didn't! I need to work on being more clear about what I think and what I want and then maybe these grrrrrrr feelings will go away!

So I think - 'whatever' - there is more to life, such as these lovely images and this: an awesome invite seen on Pinterest which really spoke to me given that I have in the distant past endured that long distance relationship thing...

...scrumptious pie..

...the softest of pillows...

...running away together...

...a nice cuppa tea...

...and some freshly picked roses...

What could be better?!

Still musing...

 Inside the mind of Lou...today:

Even though I try really hard (honest I do), I get seduced by the contents of the Toast catalogue every single season.

Is it strange/wrong that the prospect of two week's entertaining my children on my own unnerves me?

I like to wrap birthday presents in brown paper and raffia string.

There are moments when chatting with my best of friends that I realise...yep, she really does know me inside out. Those moments are the best...

Details matter to me; I notice things like ribbons, buttons and zips; if they are not quality I can't buy the item.

My wardrobe veers dramatically between classic preppy and quirky bohemian.

I have a sneaking suspicion I generally manage to get any conversation back to something that is relevant to something that has happened to me. Does that secretly mean that I think my life experience is the most validated kind and look for it in everyone else?

Given the choice I would always choose vegetables over meat, yet am not vegetarian - is this a missed opportunity?

Words like compote, gingham, mellowed, hessian please me. Does this mean I aspire to live in cabin in the woods making jam?

I conduct elaborate arguments in my mind for and against things - constantly weighing up each side of everything, be it whether I should buy that dress (usually yes), to whether I make my kids eat enough healthy food (usually no).

Does it make me a cliche that I walk in to the newly opened Cath Kidston shop in my hometown and genuinely think I could find a use for a union jack pin cushion - even though I can't sew!

Cath Kidston

Rock and roll lifestyle? I love hot water bottles, log fires, pressed sheets, candlelight on Sundays, early nights when it's raining outside.

I often wonder...am I the only one like me?

all images bar one from Toast

The fine line...

One of my most-used phrases is this: 'it's a fine line between...whatever and whatever' [fill in the blanks; whatever can be anything]. This premise seems to apply to almost all life situations that I face. Some examples:

It's a fine line between pushy parenting and instilling competitiveness in one's children.

It's a fine line between raising a girl to be a woman and making her grow up too soon.

via bippitybobbityboo

It's a fine line between a fresh, modern Keira Knightley bob and the dreaded 'housewife hair' sported by so many women. Note to self: the reason Keira looks awesome with a bob is because she has Keira's face!

Keira at Chanel last week...

It's a fine line between keeping up with what everyone else needs and doing what you need.

It's a fine line between staying trim and looking gaunt/old/ill. Case in point: Victoria Beckham.

It's a fine line between wanting those shoes and needing them.

It's a fine line between spending all your time keeping house and living in squalor if housework is left to its own devices.

It's a fine line between blogging cos I love it and spending all my time on the computer. 'Are you on the computer again Mummy?'

When did this 'fine line' start featuring in every thought I have?! I'm always one to try to find the balance in any circumstance. On the one hand this and on the other hand that...

Achieving the balance of this fine line is like walking a tight rope. If you get your balance it's a wondrous thing, a great view, a thing of art and beauty. If you wobble it can make onlookers wince, you waver there for tantalising moments and then sometimes you regain composure or...you fall. Most of the time there's a safety net so it's OK. I don't recall ever weighing these things up when I was younger, even though I was always a wise soul. But now, with advancing years I see that it's all about this fine line; finding it, walking it, straying from it every now and then...

by Steven Meisel

Wednesday...

Some weeks I find I am ready to blog, have something to say and share. My few friends who know I blog say to me, if I miss a day or two, 'where's the new post? I visited twice and there was nothing new!'. So I feel this gentle and quite nice pressure to keep on top of it. Anyway, today - I have nothing prepared, not ready, a whole lot of other things going on. So, here's what's happening with me.

via from me to you

 It's my husband 40th birthday today (thank you for the Mr Lou/Mr Boo wishes; love that). As he is not working at the moment, we have a lunch date later.

I plan to look just like this ;-)

Tomorrow night we are going to one of our favourite ever places, West Stoke House for a celebratory party with the best of friends and family. Tragically it's closing in November so it will be out last chance...we have had so many happy times there; birthdays and anniversaries. The house is linked to the Goodwood Estate which is where we got married, so it's very special. Can't wait...to don a dress and toast my hub and have a srumptious Michelin-starred dinner and fall into a divine Eygptian cotton bed afterwards...

Home day/Work day...

Home days, work days. I work part time so my week is split between the two. Work days are peppered through the week; so I have this ongoing contrast of my two 'lives'.

via Everything Fabulous

On home days I immerse myself with the children, the school run, the farmhouse, nutritious after-school snacks, re-grouping, cooking, admin, making piles of ironed laundry (will I ever get to the bottom of the ironing basket?!). My mind empties of the deadlines and strategy and corporate manoeuvring of my work days. What I find bizarre is that in each 'life' I am comfortable. I miss neither one when I do the other. Very rarely do I do any work on home days, other than tracking the state of my inbox. At work, I will sometimes be in a meeting and catch myself, with a shock; the realisation that I haven't even thought about my own children for an hour or two.

I am lucky to have this delineation and the chance to do both. I figure that opportunity is a rare one; maybe I have found and maintained, at least on paper, that pinnacle of the work/life balance. But in reality it can be...confusing. On home days I think and feel so little about work that I wonder why I persist in the double life. Yes, it's a means to an end but there are other consequences which every now and then I am fiercely reminded of. The project that I worked on earlier this year was a case in point, when nothing about life was balanced as I struggled with the professional challenges of an all-encompassing work effort can bring. For sure, home life suffered and the 'wounds' from that are only now making themselves known - you know how sometimes it takes six months for an effect to show in a child's behaviour?

So I keep on - amongst some criticism that I take on too much and the knowledge that my kids may look back on these years and recall me being rather frazzled at times, rushing from work to collect them after school; one of the only Mums at the school gates in heels and a suit, blackberry in hand.

...on home days I bake cakes just like this... ;-)

As I have said before and many commenters have reassured me there is no right answer. I notice though that now my children are older my contemporaries are talking about going back to work, just as the children are more self-sufficient at school. To me, having worked throughout following maternity leave, I would say my children still need me now, perhaps even more. In a way, if I didn't work, that would be of more use to them now than when they were toddlers. The fact is they are so much more aware now...and that awareness I feel when they comment that I spend too much time in front of my laptop or when they know they have to fall quiet in the car if 'Mummy's boss' calls.

Today is a home day, so I am going to zhush...potter...enjoy the view and be there after school full of smiles, in flat shoes, off to look for conkers for the school conker competition...

...the view from my window this morning...

Blogging when you are blue...

At the moment a strange but potent feeling of worry sweeps across our house like a cloud every now and then; this is what it feels like when the future has an unknown quantity in it. Anyone who knows me knows: I'm all about the known quantities. I am not great with change.

Life feels awfully grown up all of a sudden and I wonder where those carefree days of summer went?! I am sure (as in certain) that over time I will look back, as I do with most things and think WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT? That little mini-freak out that persisted for the month of September 2010?

But as I am well and truly in the middle of it, I also wonder, should one blog when one is blue and worried? That surreal sensation of thinking what would they think? They being whom exactly? Who reads this and has an opinion? A handful of friends from the 'real world' who know me and know I blog. Then there are the utterly delightful strangers...500 or so a day, who pop over for a view of my little life! I love the visits; they intrigue me. Blogger stats are bizarrely addictive, don't you think?

On blue days I do wonder whether or not to blog about the particular shade of azure, navy, turquoise blue I am feeling. There is this sense that blogging is for happiness and the beauty of life, rather than the dark days. But then without exception every time I have blogged on a dark day I have been met with a barrage of wonderful, uplifting comments. Thank you so much for the comments; they really do ease my days and the words of wisdom distilled into a comment box have been graciously and happily received.

One blog friend Melissa, who sensed my current worries sent me a link to a photographer whose pictures, she just knew, would cheer me up. This is the sort of inventive virtual gift a blog friend can give. I was so touched by the gesture and share it here in this post. How lovely? I must count my blessings. Thank you Melissa, the photos are indeed gorgeous and brighten any rainy day (like today)! xxx