I’m on holidays in the middle of nowhere.
I have books.
I have my computer.
I have a heart that wishes for silence and the soft smiles of love.
I will sip some tea and close my eyes.
Tag: Tea
The word sipping is very pretty, isn’t it? Delicate, like the action it shows. I can see a small pair of hands, a little tea cup beside a little light. And I know it is home.
I know it is me.
I’m sipping chamomile tea and wishing to be held like this more often. Wishing to be seen in the softness, wishing to share it and have others agree it is a beautiful softness we feel.
Tea is like that. Delicate, like the first breeze of spring, like the bunnies that graze by the river, in the evening. It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? An unreal imagining, only it’s true.
And so, so beautiful as the delicate rolls all around me.
I have been struggling more than usual over the past few months. Missing the beautiful flow I found a while back, and yet also feeling the embers of momentum begin to burn within me once more.
I wake each morning at 6 and I meditate, followed by yoga if I can fit it in. This is holding myself and my family as best as I can, with love.
I’m proud of myself for giving myself and my family these gifts.
If only a beautiful sun would light the rest of my world, so I could see clearly the path ahead. I forget myself so easily. What I love. Who I am. Each step is as sure as it should be. Why is it I continue to search for relief on the horizon?
I am home.
Let me stay here.
Let me fall into this beautiful sweet depth, forever.
Categories
The Cup Of Tea That You Are
You’ll never be everyone’s cup of tea.
Might as well be the cup of tea
that you are.
Categories
The Cottage House
I suspect this weekend will be beautiful.
I’m not sure how much you’ll see me here, if at all, my lovely bloggy friends. I’ll be all snuggled up under a blankie with a steaming cup of tea and a book, alone in a lovely little cottage house on a hill, among a thousand trees.
I couldn’t think of a more beautiful way to gain my strength back.
I’m house-sitting for one of my oldest friends: my wonderful bestie from high school. No matter how long we’ve gone without seeing each other, she has remained a constant support to me over the years. Whenever I’ve needed her, she’s been there, never once complaining about my tendency to disappear for vast stretches of this introverted life of mine.
She and her twin sister (another dear friend of mine) were the ones who taught me how to make a real cake at the ripe old age of fourteen. When I realised that all cakes did not actually begin in a packet…my eyes must have widened a mile. I will never forget how we laughed.
Anyhow, that’s where I’ll be this weekend. Looking after two cats, a bunny rabbit, and four teeny tiny newborn bunnies. What bliss.
All the Friday love hearts, my merry bloggy friends. May this day bring you ALL the awesome things.
Categories
Cupcake
Don’t tell the biscuits,
but it’s a sleepy tea
and a cupcake
kinda night.
Categories
Darling Day 28. Me Time
Darling is the wife, the mum, the daughter, the friend who says:
Tonight is my gift to me.
Tonight it will be only me.
In a cosy room.
With candles.
Tea.
Chocolate.
And music. (You know I’d never forget the music.)
Yes.
Darling is tonight.
The night I’ve stolen from the world.
Taken.
All for myself, for no particular reason.
You’re welcome me.
You are very, very welcome.
Meet my darling little sugar pot.
I met this little darling in an op-shop, not too long ago, actually.
Our eyes met, and that was it: love.
Love so great, in fact, that I bought her despite the fact that I don’t take sugar in my tea. Or my coffee, for that matter.
There was just something about her sweet little-cottage charm that told me she belonged at our house.
She was perfect in her own right, but also, perfect for me. Perfect for all the guests she’d delight with her dainty, sugary goodness.
So I cupped her in my hand and I walked her up to the counter, where a kind old lady met me with a smile.
And just like that: she was mine, this darling little sugar pot.
The most darling little sugar pot I ever did see.
brooke-cutler.com 