Grace: Picking off the dead-heads of her daisies - our vegie patch turned into a flower garden this winter
Tom: His version of a birds-eye-view of our house - I have been sketching our renovations this week, he wanted to join in
For the majority of winter, I am longing for it to hurry up and be over. Our little home is an ice-box, a weathered fisherman's cottage with no insulation. Flannelette pajamas are the norm, as are hot cups of tea, roast dinner's and Mollie being allowed up on the lounge. We go to bed with hot-water bottles shoved down the bottom of our bed's to keep our feet warm and through the night, sleepy heads wander into the darkness and slip in between our sheets. Mornings are filled with giggles and wrestles before Mama bear pulls rank and begins the getting-ready-for-school rush.
For the majority of winter, I am longing for it to hurry up and be over. I think that statement has just now become the minority.
Playing along with Jodi - "A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."
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