a mini break

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We took off down to the beach five days ago. A wintery, blustery, windy, soulful, refreshing time we had. We are back home now feeling relaxed, but of course not as relaxed as one would like once the pressures of life and all its administration return to flood us.

My favourite part of our time away was heading off for the afternoon with Prince Charming. We made left-over roast lamb sandwiches and chose a 6km bushwalk along the coast. It was just brilliant! Simple bliss. Just the two of us, stopping midway on a sandy beach to have our sandwiches before walking back. While we were walking down the little bush track we realised with amazement that it was actually the first time we had gone out together and left the children with the grandparents since the pesky pixie was born! Didn’t take us nearly as long the first time around!

I have been asking many questions of myself and Prince Charming lately. Who are we, what is our capital P Plan, where are we headed, which path will we take, and so on. We seem to have hit a time in our life where we are faced with a number of options, which is nice but also a bit daunting. One of the options is to stay put and do nothing different, which we have decided we will do, for a spell. I’m a dreamer but the Mr is a sensible chap, he only likes to delve into big plans if he has some sense they might actually happen. Boo to that Prince Charming.

My mouth spilled questions on our journey back from the beach. Then I got home and after the unpacking of the car, the dinner rush, the bedtime sagas, I sat a moment and had a little scan of a few blogs. I stumbled across this post and it was once again the little reminder I needed to stay put, in body and in mind, and be content with where we are at this moment.

What have you been doing this school holidays?

on the first of the first

There was a couple walking along with a little girl and a loaf of bread. The man was earthy looking. Long shorts, brown toes, an easy walk. The woman was beautifully rounded and classic. Soft dark hair slung back. Skipping twice to their every step was a little brown button of a girl, her clear skin tinged by the golden summer sun. The couple walked slowly, their loaf of bread swinging in the soft weathered hands of the man. They stopped along the path, next to my car where I was breastfeeding. The woman smelled a flower and motioned to the girl who, standing tiptoed, grasped the flower with both hands and breathed it in before skipping away. The three walked hand in hand.

This was amidst a busy beach town street, bustling with city folk sporting pink blistered skin, more accustomed to skinny white tubes of fluorescent light than the warm rays of the sun. I watched them walk by, embodying everything I hope for and think about when I imagine a summer holiday. They looked truly happy and well rested. Content in each other’s company and the blue sky and their loaf of bread. While other people were wandering around, slower than normal but still with a big city edge to their gait, they smiled and strolled on, seemingly oblivious to anything but each other and the sun shining on their backs.

They reminded me how lucky we are to be on summer holidays. To have a place to stay away from our busy lives and the big smoke. To be together with extended family. To hold my children in my arms and enjoy their smiles and laughter and chubby legs. Not to worry about anything much.

How lovely to be in such a state of summery bliss. Even though I have to remind myself to check in and appreciate it every now and then.

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