A reflection … on making a home

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We had a busy day yesterday.  With the major indoor renovations completed and the dust somewhat settled, it was time for a thorough clean up.  Who thought a wrought iron balustrade was a good look?  Dust catchers, extraordinaire!  I regret not replacing it.

The home I bought 4-5 years ago had a strong Tuscan feel to it.  Heavy patterned tiles, dark bathroom, wooden cabinets etc. but I saw potential in the home that I knew I could transform and make it my own.  As we cleared rooms and tidied up yesterday, my home, yes, my home started to emerge.  It made me feel emotional.

My home feels light and spacious.  My garden area is smaller than my previous home and in segments.  The lounge room overlooks the courtyard where roses and geraniums grow.  Around the corner, where the minor bedrooms overlook, I hope to plant some native shrubs to attract birds and keep them away from the bully Rainbow Lorikeets that visit the back garden.  The dining room (do people still have this!), overlooks the outdoor spa which I would love to get rid off.  The sight of palm trees in this area is a source of irritation and still jars my sensibilities!  The kitchen and informal dining area overlooks the patio and back garden where the jasmine, mulberry and pink crepe myrtle grows.  My work study faces East, because my day starts at dawn.  My front study is now a library and my quiet space, it overlooks the roses at one end and the spa area, the other.  Upstairs, overlooks everything.  My home is emerging.  What I envisioned is coming to fruition.  I have worked so incredibly hard to achieve this.  And, I’m still standing and without a misstep.

I did not achieve this on my own.  I have to give credit to my wonderful builder.  He has had my house keys for the past few years and we have worked towards completion on a schedule that suited my circumstances.  He has never entered my home without my permission even though he has it.  I never have to question his quote as I know he is absolutely trustworthy.  My builder has been my rock during, what should have been, an incredibly stressful time.  I now have a functional home, thanks to him.  It has taken all these years for my two children to accept the new home as our family home.  They resented me selling the house they grew up in.  It has taken time and effort to regroup and worth every minute of what was put in.

I’m reflecting on this because I have twenty young people coming to my home next week to dress for the wedding.  I’m reminding myself, I have project managed and survived two homes being renovated.  So, I got this!

Yesterday my son’s stress about his wedding seemed palpable.  The contagion could have been easy.  But I know from experience if I keep calm, he does too.  Knowing this is key in being a parent and role modelling, matters in being a parent.  I also know if he keeps busy, he can think more clearly, and oddly, enough, so can I.  I have to squeeze in one more trip to the Wheatbelt before the wedding.  A long drive and a heavy caseload awaits.  Although it cuts into my time, I also know when I work, I am totally focused and in the moment.  So it may be just what I need at this time.

Last night I lay in bed and visualised walking and driving through Boranup forest in the Margaret River region.  I have plans for this trip.  It calmed my spirit.  Yes, I got this!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

Busy as …

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Bees are synonymous with being busy.  Yet, we don’t complain because we see the value of what they do in nature.  It is a growing concern they seem to be declining and the impact of this is far reaching.  I don’t know much about bees at all but I do know there are thousands of species.  Bees are interesting creatures.  They can be solitary or live in complex communities.  They are collaborative workers, they know their business and go about it in a focused way.  The solitary bee does not make honey.  They are valued for being pollinators.  They create their own nest and feed their brood.  They are fearsome in the defense of their brood as well.  Hmmm something resonates here!

A friend once wrote me a poem about bees and gave it to me when we parted, saying every time they saw a bee, they would think of me.  I hope they continue to think of me.

The label ‘single mother’ is not a derogatory term in the bee world!  I know it to be so in my world.  When my son was in kindergarten his elderly teacher sent a note home and asked me to come in for an interview.  This was a time soon after my marriage ended and I was working and studying.  She showed me his artwork, and told me she had asked the children to paint the sky.  Every child painted blue.  My son had painted vivid pink, orange and black.  I was puzzled and asked her what was wrong with the art.  She felt at ease to reprimand me and said if I was less busy, he would know the sky is blue.  Incensed by her lack of understanding and her temerity to say this to a parent, I responded, that if she looked at the sky she would know it wasn’t always blue and, looking around at other children’s artwork, it would appear my son knew more than his peers did.

My son’s art came from a place of experience.  I would study between the hours of 4-7am.  When he woke he would sit at my feet and play with blocks and trains while I took a break and reflected with coffee in a room that faced the Eastern sky.  One morning it was absolutely gorgeous.  I drew his attention and pointed silently to the sky.  His brown eyes wide open and mouth agape he whispered in wonder, “Who did that?”  A priceless moment for a mother.  If only the classroom teacher had experienced this with a child!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Ragtag Daily Prompt:  Busy

The Dream Maker

via Daily Prompt: Incubate

I was raised in a home that was filled with books and discussion.  I’ve carried the tradition into my home with my children.

It was my father who nurtured me emotionally and intellectually by choice and circumstance.  I adored him.  He became an invalid at 39 after he suffered a major heart attack and became a stay-at-home dad, so he was more accessible while my mother went out to work.  I loved his reserve.  His wisdom still guides me each day.

DSCN6034.jpgLike a bird that sits quietly while her eggs incubate beneath her, my father would listen to my endless questions, pause thoughtfully and ask, “what do you think?”  I always had an answer or five and when I didn’t, I’d scurry to find a book with the answer and return back to him, brimming with information.

He didn’t know then, and I wish I could tell him now, he was my Dream Maker.  In those pauses, my dreams found a place to incubate.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird