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Twelve Days of Christmas

Couch Chat

On the seventh day of Christmas

the sun came

and then it went.

In between the coming and going of the sun

lots of love happened.

Lots of smiles.

A couple of sad thoughts.

Hardly any cranky ones— hells yes. (Don’t ya love those days?)

So…yeah.

Life happened and it was really pretty great.

The thing is—

I’m so super snoozy. (Sleepy sigh smile.)

So super snoozy I can’t think of anything overly brilliant to write.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow I’ll write something AMAZING. (She says, grinning at the cheek she hopes she’ll be forgiven for)

Night night, gang.

You guys are awesome.

Thanks for popping by for a bit of a couch chat.

xx Brooke (Couch chat legend from way back.)

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Categories
Twelve Days of Christmas

Home

On the fifth day of Christmas

my heart remembered

it has another name.

Home.

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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 13. Happy Mothers Day

To all the darling Mothers out there.

To all the darling daughters.

And all the darling sons.

Happy Mothers day.

Love, Brooke. xx

 

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The darling blog of May

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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 10. The Big Surprise

It’s days like today that I’m so glad this little blog of mine is an everything blog.

Because I have a story to tell. An every-day kind of story.

A story about a darling little boy, and a darling surprise.

A darling surprise…for me!

Mummy.

So. Here goes it.

Kinder pick up time arrived and off I went—toddler on hip— to collect the darling boy I call Son from his beloved: Kinder.

It’s always the most beautiful part of my day; wandering in to see his little legs twisted around themselves as he waits patiently on the mat. For me. Mum. The one that deals out the snuggles and the smooches.

The one who calls him darling.

But the real darling of this story is this.

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Flowers for Mothers day on Sunday…

Which I had totally forgotten about.

Darling moment.

Darling surprise.

 

The darling blog of May

 

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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 5. When I grow up

‘Mum?’

‘Yeah?’

‘When I grow up, I wanna be…’

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‘…a digger.’

‘A digger?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You mean, like…the machine?’

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‘Umm…no.’

‘Oh. Like…a man that digs?’

‘Umm…’

‘Like, you know, holes and stuff?’

‘Umm…yeah.’

Silence.

Silence.

Giggle.

Sigh.

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‘Darling. You can be whatever you want to be.

Whatever makes you happy.’

Silence.

Silence.

Smile. 

‘Okay.’

‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

Yawn.

Silence.

‘Goodnight, Mum.’

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The darling blog of May

 

 

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The Darling Blog Of May

One day to Go!

There’s one day to go

’til this blog post a day-ness.

This darling of May; yes!

A darling a day; bless.

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Don’t ask me to tell

’cause it’s all a surprise; oh!

What will darling be? No!

Stop trying to guess, yo!

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It could be a post

’bout a cake or a pie; why?

I don’t really know; sigh.

Just trust me! (Please, don’t cry.)

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A darling of whim

’twill most probably be; see?

For how many days; three?

No! Thirty-one; yippee!

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See you tomorrow for darling day one!

I can’t wait. xx Brooke

 

The darling blog of May

 

 

 

 

Categories
Life

Somewhere Summer

When the leaves start to fall and the sun slides all the way ’round to the other side of the world…

I get a little bit grumpy.

A little bit cooped up.

A little bit sad.

You could say I’m allergic to winter.

I know. Poor me.

Just think of my cold little toes!

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Maybe I just prefer bright.

Colour.

A bit of gold on a cloud.

A bit of glare on a train track.

A bit of peace from the wildlings who leap the couches and roar

And climb me, like the ladder I so clearly am.

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And the gym!

My goodness, they’ll be pleased.

We miss you, they said in summer;

A pointy-fingered email for every time I chose to exercise in the great outdoors…

Instead of on their sweat-crusted cross trainer.

Yes, gym. It’s true.

The grey skies will bring me back to you.

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And don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad.

There’s the wood that crackles in the fire. The quiet moments that dull the adorable LOUD.

And then there’s you.

My friends in the north, peeling off your chunky wool sweaters. Frolicking in the splendor of a sun-lit strip.

I’ll think of you and your sweet, sweet summer and do you know what I’ll do?

I’ll smile. Because at least someone will be sipping Pina Coladas, pool-side.

Even if it won’t be me.

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Categories
Books

Falling In Love By Lamplight

I can’t remember the moment I fell in love with books.

But I know it was by lamplight.

A warm orange flush against the wall.

The shadow of a Mum, and a girl, and a book, and a bed.

A memory for all the senses.

A craving for the comfort of night.

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Are you there with me?

Mum’s soft voice, her words scattering into the twilight.

Like fireflies.

Waves, fizzing onto custard sand.

Winged chairs, lifting into the setting sun.

I feel it like I feel yesterday, that love.

That magic.

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Little girl me sped through the days, just to meet the night again.

Just so the story could go on.

Nothing’s changed, not really.

Except maybe the shadows on the wall.

The little girl I used to be: somewhere along the line, her shadow twisted and popped.

And grew.

The lamp lit voice: it’s not Mum’s, anymore.

It’s mine.

Colouring in the hearts of my own babies.

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I can’t remember the moment I fell in love with books.

And maybe the when doesn’t matter.

Maybe the why doesn’t matter, either.

It’s the who and the what and the how that will never leave me.

The lamplight.

The two shadows, big and small.

It’s the truest story I know.

And it’s all about how I fell in love… for the very first time.

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