bras and things
There was this moment during the week when we were sitting on the ground in the tractor shed paddock, trying to make friends with our four newest sheep. We were sitting as still as we could while they ate their oats just in front of us, building trust and friendship, and attempting not to scare them away. New sheep can be terribly flighty you see.
As we sat there watching our new friends, feeling the sunshine on our faces and the slight breeze through the trees, Bren told me of a study he’d heard about on the radio, that had made a direct correlation between listening to bird song and human happiness. I closed my eyes and concentrated, tuning in to all the bird calls I could hear. In that moment there were so many layers of sound, so much diversity of song.
Right now, in my body, sitting here in this paddock in the forest, in this brief few days of sunshine between flood events, I am truly happy, I thought to myself.
And then Bren pointed up to a small hollow in the tree above us, and at that very second a kookaburra squeezed its fluffy face out of the hole and then flew over to a nearby eucalyptus branch across the way to meet its mate. I can’t begin to describe the way my heart soared as I relived that moment in my head, while keeping a careful eye on the hole in case we caught a glimpse of another kookaburra squeezing out or in, or even perhaps a baby. It felt like magic, like such an honour to be sitting there at that exact time.
Afterwards, as we walked back up the hill towards home, I promised myself that I’d remind myself of this moment later in the week when the storm clouds roll back in, when the rain starts back up again, the creek floods over, the noise is relentless and I inevitably start feeling overwhelmed and anxious again. I’d remember the kookaburras, I’d remember the bird song, I’d remember the feeling of the bright sunshine on my face, and the happiness in my heart…
And as I walked I collected a bunch of other moments that made me happy during the week too…
Feeling so proud I could burst at Coffee & Catharsis, a celebration of creativity in all its forms. An event our Indi put together for the final project of her university degree. Honestly, the last three years, and in fact the whole of Indi’s uni experience, has been so difficult with Covid and remote learning, but watching her dream up and create this event with such grace and resilience and imagination, has been inspiring and humbling and ridiculously exciting. There was a social media campaign, posters advertising the event, an artist’s marketplace, stickers to colour in and name your creative practice, a room full of flowers, a musician for entertainment, a panel of experts answering questions about creativity, and a room of people thinking and talking about ways in which we can express ourselves, and find inspiration, and use our practice to look after our mental health.
Honestly there were times over the past three years that it felt like there were so many covid hurdles in the way of Indi’s uni course that I wondered if it was worth continuing, but after experiencing the joy that was Coffee & Catharsis, I am thrilled that she persevered and found her way through, collecting the skills, confidence and resilience along the way that enabled her to dream up and create this event. I am ridiculously excited to watch what she does next.
Escaping the torrential rain last weekend to spend a few days in Melbourne eating dinner with family, walking along the beach, catching up with friends, drinking coffee, op shopping and marketing.
Hanging out with my chickens IRL and on WhatsApp.
Spending time in the forest with the sheep and the goats and my loved ones.
Finally hanging the laundry outside to dry.
Finding dozens of poppies amidst the jungle in the garden.
Watching precious new leaves unfurl on the indoor plants.
Swathes of Honesty proudly purple before they dry out into round, flat, silvery seed pods.
Meeting K, a lovely friend of a friend, who told me she loves my blog and my instagram. In my early days of publishing online, I was always meeting people at craft markets and events and out and about who read my stuff and talked to me about it. These days it’s so rare and that makes the feedback all the more meaningful. Thank you so much for your kindness K, you made me smile all week.
Self sufficient perennial flowers that seem to thrive on neglect.
Getting photos of my parents’ mini break in Melbourne and feeling delighted in how happy and healthy they look and how much they packed in to their time away.
Lying in bed watching out the window as a Heron flies off to collect materials and then deposits them high up on a branch of a Eucalyptus tree for their mate to make a nest out of. I hope the forecast heavy rains on the weekend don’t disturb the building project too much.
There’s always something so exotic about blue things in nature, don’t you think?
Two new, properly fitted bras. After looking at a photo I posted on my blog a few weeks ago, it became abundantly clear that the bras I had bought online a few years ago in the first lockdown were no longer doing their job and had to be replaced ASAP! (No photos - sorry!)
Picking bunches of Waratahs for us and for others.
Blossom on the fruit trees full of bees.
Podcasts playing in my head phones and in the car.
Long walks through the forest.
My beautiful friend and exercise partner Leah. Without her there’s no way that I’d show up, step up, LHS, or punch it out, almost every day. I am so grateful that we found each other, that we inspire each other, and that we have the same goals.
That feeling of accomplishment you get when you step back and admire the neatness of an area you’ve just mown.
The precious coffee that Bren brings me in bed each morning.
Doing the Worldle and the Octordle every day.
Weeding the garden beds and chatting about stuff.
My ceramics practice. Despite the fact that it’s terribly humbling as I am still nowhere near as good as I hope to be.
Watching Bren build Pepper a new bed. The woodworking skills he has and the way he problem solves never fails to inspire me.
Clearing up areas that the goats have passed through.
Dogs.
Burning shit.
Piles of books. From the library, from op shops, from markets, and from loved ones who want to share what they enjoyed. At bed time, in the middle of the night, over breakfast, and sometimes on the toilet.
My favourite two of the past few weeks are so different to each other, and on topics so foreign to me, that it’s laughable.
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin starting in the mid 1980’s and spanning 30 years, is about the complexities of friendship and love and creating and playing computer games. And The Islands by Emily Brugman set in the mid 1950’s is about a small community of Finnish migrants, about cray fishing on a tiny island off Western Australia, and about family and home and belonging.
I adored and highly recommend both.
Casting off baby Esme’s Festival Sweater.
I still haven’t had a chance to give it to her, and I can hardly wait.
Madly knitting rows of my second Bracken sweater, trying to finish it before the inevitable end to my knitting season arrives. I’ve got one row left of the colour work section, after that I’ll separate the sleeves and then there’s just miles and miles of plain knitting to go. I really love knitting this pattern and as you can see from the pictures above I really love wearing my light coloured version, and am getting super excited to wear my charcoal one too.
The thought that Indi is on her way here now.
Tickets to see Lior tonight.
Of course, jars and hand made vases filled with freshly cut flowers.
And just like clockwork, as I’m about to sign off, the skies have opened and the rains have returned.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend, wherever you are my friends.
Before you go, tell me some of the things that have made or are making you feel happy. It feels so good to remember them and to collect them into a bunch.
Hopefully I’ll see you again next Friday.
Love, Kate x
