A Week of Peace: 1 Together

Inspired by this beautiful image I want to spend this week thinking about, finding, photographing, celebrating moments of peace. I've been feeling so much recently that I want to make them happen for all of us much more; unscheduled spaces for happy play, silence, grief, sleep or just taking life in gently. This weekend was full of peaceful time together, helped by sunshine and the fact that Mo climbed up beside us to join in with the things that slow us down; writing, drawing, making.

Saving up.

C (we can't agree, he and I, on his blog name so he must remain an initial) still can't cut into his lovely tissue paper collage so it is complete, like stained glass, on his window for the evening sun to shine through. I know how he feels. On the rare occasions that I buy new dresses they hang in my wardrobe for months waiting for me to take a deep breath and wear them, and beautiful fabric matures gently behind the glass of my sewing cupboard . But brave Myrtle made a fish template, drew around it in thick black pen on her precious creation and cut it out, so bright fishes are dancing on our kitchen windows held in place with blu-tack eyes. The scraps became wings for a flying scarecrow entered for this weekends competition at the last minute . It turns out we have been making a scarecrow all year, though we didn't know it. Saved treasures came together quickly once we had dreamed him up; a papier mache head, made with C while I was pregnant with Mo has been waiting bodiless, home made clothes have been languishing on forgotten dolls, torn sheeting has been lying at the bottom of a rag bag. He flew above our gate in the rain under a large yellow umbrella. The chocolates we won for him (third prize!) are in the cupboard awaiting their moment.

Morning cherries

Comforting ourselves with cherries while Mr B is away. A smiley breakfast, especially as Mo slept all the way to 5.30am- cause for celebration indeed..

Rainy Bank Holiday

Hot chocolate in new-to-us teacups and the latest Charlie and Lola comic; cooking to live music; bluebells in the woods on our rainy walk and wisteria flowering over our pergola; today full of noisy layers of happy home-together family time.

Rising.

Somewhere between the beginning and the end of our day things can unravel a little. At first there is washing swaying on the line, bread rising on a sunny windowsill ready for lunch with friends. Play is calm, sunlight falls across the strange collections of things that lie on every surface of our house. I'm loving capturing these tiny moments. Somehow looking at them again at the end of the day does not remove the parts in between (he fell, they fought, paint spilled, the sauce that was boiling all day in my head for tea was rejected,he was late, I cried.) But it helps me shrink them down to size. And it makes me want to get up tomorrow and do it all again.

Slow Morning...

...displaying treasures from the week, playing with colours, thinking of granny...