Sometimes a picture is worth a 1000 words, but today no amount of photos would do justice to the day that was, simply put, it was the kind of day that steals your breath and makes you wonder at the perfection of the universe.
I soaped my final batch for 2016 and it went so flawlessly, I thought I was dreaming, thin trace, swirls like no other and a finish that I was danged rapt with. Smitten with the new version of Barbershop Bob.
But that was just the precursor to the rest of the magic. I needed to get some food in the house, Christmas and the shops being shut for days has had done us in, not an apple or banana to be seen, milk almost out and bread, schmed.
Yap, bless him,, had said he’d take a couple of kids to Gum View and bring the header home so Connie and I snuck out of the house at lunch time to get some vittles. Reggie was not to be denied and was to be heard shouting “me come too” as we fled the scene.
Shopping done, with Connie’s finest moment getting a pony stamp on her hand at the Post Office (thanks Mary xx), followed by greeting a complete stranger in the Butcher Shop with “are you a giant? My name is Tonnie May Rayner”, to which the supposed giant answered “G’day Connie (the man’s powers knew no bounds – how on earth could he decipher her particular brand of speech?), my name is Jeff, pleased to meet you.” Connie, never short of something to say continued “yes, but are you a giant?”
Given, this man was spectacularly tall with sparkly grey eyes and a bushy beard that came to mid chest, replied “no, I’m not a giant, but my cousin is a real giant. And arent’ you just the cutest girl?” to which Connie replied “Yes I am terribly cute aren’t I”. To say there were smirks all round in the Butcher Shop is an understatement.
We popped in to see Mang and Pa for a bit and Connie invited herself to stay for the afternoon. Can’t say it was overly forward of her as I had just invited ourselves to tea later that evening and for a swim in Mang’s pool.
Home again and bliss – no one home, just me. Ahhh the serenity.
Work room tidied, new curtains hung, shopping put away and a quiet (but jolly hot) coffee (weather, not beverage…) later and Edie and Reggie reappeared.
They played happily by themselves, or so I thought, until I happened to catch a glimpse of Reggie – who knew you could get so much texta on yourself!!!
A quick tidy up in the rooms they had played in and off to Mang’s we go.
Watching the kids in the pool is bliss.
Edie just swims and swims – me thinks she is part otter or something. Connie, always on her own, immersed in some imaginary game, chatting away without a care in the world and Reggie. Oh Reggie. The unbridled glee, the unconstrained joy, the exuberance in his play is second to none (side note – the glee and joy is all his, me, I’m waiting with bated breath for disaster), watching as he hurls himself at the water from the edge of the pool. Swims flat-out to me with cries of “Throw me, throw me”; and I do. As high and hard as I can, knowing that any less effort will be reprimanded fiercely.
Yap arrives to yells of “Dad, Dad, Dad’s here, woohoo etc” and sits with Pa to have a beer and a yarn. The barbie is cooked and eaten, the ice-cream is served and inhaled and off to play they go.
It’s a rare evening when the kids entertain themselves at length, either inside playing pretend dogs (Edie’s favourite game at the mo) or making mud pies in the garden kitchen that Mang has built or racing about on bikes. Hilarity ensues when Edie announces there is Golden Dog Poo up the back and Reggie has trodden in it. The hilarity escalates exponentially when, as I am hosing him off in the garden, I make the gruesome discovery that it is not Golden Dog Poo, but in fact Reggie has shit himself and it is sliding down his legs.
And that folks is what happens when you don’t put a nappy on the 2-year-old after a swim.
Anyhooo, things resume, Yap and I chatting to Mum and Dad, kids playing – life is good.
And then it is home time. Reggie wants to go with Yap in the ute and the girls are with me in Bruce. So off we go, its bloody hot in Bruce (he’s our old 100 series Landcruiser), so its windows down all round, Garth Brooks’ Rodeo is blaring on the stereo. I look in the rearview mirror to see tired but happy faces in the back seat, hair whipping about their heads as we belt down the highway. We turn into our driveway and as we crest the highest hill, the sun is setting over Caralue Bluff, the girls are yelling at me to sing louder and I have one of those rare moments that are like a snapshot of the time and I can see so clearly all that is wonderful around me.
I realise that indeed, Life is Magical.
I sincerely hope that you and yours can see the Magical LIfe you are living also,
With mucho love,