… is a funny old thing. I can’t live without it, rhythm keeps me going giving me landmarks through the days, weeks and months, it feels familiar and comforting, yet too much of it and my spontaneous side starts to feel a bit antsy.
When we have luxurious long weekends such as these I start functioning better, more in sync with my family as I leave work as a distant memory - familiar family rhythms
... baking pancakes on a sunday for breakfast ...
.. baking bread of a wednesday morning ...
... Early sunday mornings in town picking veg up from the farmers market, eating croissant off the bread stall and playing in the park on the way home...
... film night at the weekend just Cliff and I...
... laying in till nine thirty on a saturday morning ..
... Sunday Roast
... tuesday night has officially become blog night - football is on so Cliff is out of mischief and I just got in from work so no cleaning to do! I have a cup of tea at my side and a camera full of the weeks photo's to go through ...
... positively lovely.
Of course there’s always room for adhoc adventures! And summers lively rhythm makes way for longer warmer adventures. A welcome change where days and evenings roll into one. On days when we are at home the children are often outside by eight in the morning helping me hang the washing up and starting the day as the mean to go on ... making mischief! This time of year I can spend more time with them after work as we all opt for hanging out in the garden.
In summer I catch a glimpse of non-time and for a beautiful moment forget that the night will creep in.
The bank holiday flow was interupted this weekend, a welcome interuption though. I went to see ‘Chicago’ in the Westend with my Mum and siblings and was reminded of the rhythm and excitement of the theatre. I lived with this rhythm to one degree or another since I was five years old when I first took a ballet class. I knew I wanted to be on stage straight away I felt something course through me. When I was 17 won a scholarship to stage school but it was watching big shows on big stages that filled me with enthusiasm and feelings of longing and ambition. It made me more determined, fulled my fire and filled me with excitement which nurtured my passion for it.
It took me back instantly and refreshed my spirit. I drank it in smiling a cheeky smilke to myself.
I watched with nostalgia as I recognised each number having learnt the choreography and lyrics over ten years ago now. My nostalgia was tinged with a little ‘I had my chance’ and a dash of ‘what if’ and a big slug of Shoulda coulda woulda.
But you know what, I'm actually happy sitting in the stalls, feeling pleased as punch for the girls and boys who achieved their dreams and one of mine
whilst I live another totally different dream!
And I do consider motherhood, parenthood - the joint journey I'm walking with Cliff, as living the dream. It's the dream Cliff and I dreamed a while ago now. However challenging it can be its still our dream.
dreamy forest walks
picnics with old friends...
Bed beckons x