25/52

Tom: the happy explorer, finding hidden paths among the sand dunes
Grace: she found a fallen tree, and declared it the 'clubhouse'

This afternoon we made an escape from our little house that has been keeping us dry and warm for the past week. With the relentless rain, school and work schedules, the four of us haven't been able to sync and explore like we used to. We went to our favourite summer-time spot, where the water from the temperate creek winds through the dunes and is greeted by the now cold ocean. This time, the small hands that usually carry the snorkels and beach buckets were tucked up under oversized cardigans and into jean pockets.

Playing along with Jodi -  "A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

the dairy

The dreaded lurgy visited us last week. Resulting in a week off work for me and a couple of days for Ian, the kids were relatively lucky and came through it unscathed, though they were also confined to the house because I felt like doing not much at all. Playing doctors and nurses only lasted so long...

So on the weekend, we got out of the house for the afternoon, and headed to the dairy across the road from my grandparents home. The Anderson brothers run the farm, a family business passed through the generations. 

When my sisters and I were younger, we would go over to their dairy with Dad, and spend the afternoon with the new calfs, attempting to ride the motorbikes and scaling the silo's in search of eggs from the birds that nested at the top. 

Seeing Grace and Tom run through their farm gave me a lump in my throat. Their faces, filled with wonder and excitement. Grace was knee deep in cow-poo, calling to the girls as they slowly made their way to farm for milking. 

It is only now that I feel blessed and thankful for the childhood I had. And I feel like it is repeating itself now Grace and Tom are here. Unreal.

Midnight Blue

 

My Dad has a penchant for British cars. It's his thing. When I was growing up, Dad would spend hours  in the garage, tinkering quietly. When he had achieved his mechanical goal for that day, he would call out and take me or one of my sisters for a ride, to "see how she goes". Dad would take me up Cambewarra mountain, the fresh air in my face, my white knuckles holding on to the door handle. "She loves the corners Al!" I would hear him say. That would be the only words for the whole trip - my dad and I are thinkers, we like to just be in the moment, enjoy our experiences. I would nod and smile back.

Over the years, his collection has grown. And his love for these cars has become an important part of his life. They are important to our family. To me. I can hear Dad coming from up the street. He has a huge grin on his face as he pulls in the driveway with the latest edition, a TR4. She is a little worse for wear, but I know what Dad has in mind. She is midnight blue with black leather interior like one he sold when I was 10. I get excited, my memories of when I was younger come flooding back. I want to jump in the passenger seat and see how she goes. 

22/52

Grace: Ready for school, her bag is full to the brim with books and there is always one in her hand
Tom: Breakfast time, sitting at the table which belonged to his great-great grandparents

The moments before school. Sometimes it is easy to get caught up in the brush your teeth/make sure your hair is neat/where is your school reader?/are they odd socks? morning mania. Today I stopped and took a breath and found my little school-goers have it all under control.

Playing along with Jodi -  "A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."