The ‘Sort Of’ Goodbye

It’s the post that’s been wobbling around inside me for a long time.

Nine months. Oh, dear.

So many months of oops! 

I’ve known for quite some time that this post would very likely be a goodbye, of sorts. A so long, really, because how could I say goodbye to a world that has so beautifully nurtured all the love I’ve spilled into it?


How could I permanently close the door to such a place?

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

I won’t.

Instead, I’ll say goodbye for now.

I’ll say: please don’t expect me anytime soon. The reality is, I may not be back for years.  As well as being a busy Mummy of two, I’m writing a novel—my very first— a literary fiction novel about love and friendship and loss. So pretty much about…life.

It’s the reason I’ve not been back here for so long. I’ve found that writing this type of book is taking a lot out of me, creatively— a lot of energy, a lot of time—these new characters of mine, they are demanding all of me.

It’s why I need to come to a full stop with this blog, rather than just the comma I’ve left you with. Will she or wont she be back? Even I haven’t been sure. But I am now. And as much as I am drawn to this space, I’ve realised that if I want to finish this novel, I need to give it the time and space it needs to fly.


Thank you to those of you who have read, liked, or commented on anything I’ve ever posted here—you’ve thrilled me.

Thank you to those of you who’ve continued to check this space, only to find nothing new from me. Your unwavering loyalty is the reason for this post—you’ve warmed my heart; you deserve my loyalty in return.

Lastly, thank you to the beautiful friends I’ve made in this blogging community. Particular thanks must go to CC, Victo Dolore and When I Had a Sea Horse. Your talent and vulnerability has opened parts of my heart I didn’t know existed—you’ve made me a better writer and a better person. So thank you. Thank you so, so much.

Without further ado, I sign off.

Until next time.

xx Misscookas.



At last

Something wonderful has happened.

Fizz whiz and daffodil kind of wonderful.

Strawberry fields and apricots kind of wonderful.

Shall I tell you what it is?





It’s a baby.


We made a baby.

A baby who grew and grew and grew until…

She came out squawking.

A healthy, happy baby.

A bouncing, flouncing, cooing, smiling baby.

Ours, after all the frowns.

Multiple miscarriages.

Five, actually.

But now there’s a baby.

A baby!

A little miss to match our little mister.


A smile to melt the pain.

And she’s so beautiful.

So deliciously beautiful that all I can think sometimes is…

Thank goodness.

Thank goodness we kept trying.

Thank goodness we pushed aside the pain for just long enough.


Thank goodness somehow we were resilient enough.

To smile through the rain.

To laugh with our eyes.

To give it another go.


And over…

And over again.

Until at last there was Sun.


Glorious Sun.

A baby girl.



So delightfully perfect.

It’s all about the moments. Blogtober 31st

For me, no moment is too small.

I see it happen.

I catch it.

I let it take me away.

At first, it might look like a simple moment.


But then I look closer.

Then…I see so much more.

No moment is too small.

Please believe that.

You can make every moment count.


I truly hope that you do.

Because that’s life, isn’t it?

A series of moments.

An intricate web, woven sometimes with grace;

Sometimes with friction.

I hope you’ve enjoyed hearing about some of my moments.

It’s been wonderful sharing them with you all.

Thank you so, so much for joining me on the ride.

xx Miss Cookas

Blogtober promo pic

The Plumber. Blogtober 30th.

It’s lunch time and there’s a stranger on the porch. He’s wearing overalls. He’s got scruffy hair with a beard to match. Who the hell is he?

Light bulb moment :The plumber!

Mister C had specifically sent me the details of his arrival.

And I had totally forgotten he was coming.

There was no time to check if the house was tidy. He was there. He saw me see that he was there. There was no turning back. He was coming in.

‘Hi! Come in!’ I said, probably too enthusiastically.’You are the plumber?’

‘Umm…yes,’ he confirmed with a crooked smile.

Off to an excellent start then.

I walked him toward the taps we were having issues with.

‘Hello! Hello!’ chirped the toddler, as he followed along behind. The plumber, the burliest of men, smiled. A heart smile. One that only the littlest humans can evoke.

‘Hi mate,’ he boomed. ‘What’s your name?’

From then on, it was a matter of Mummy fending off the toddler’s curious strikes at the plumbers tool kit. A wrench? This looks alright. A hammer? An excellent invention indeed. He was truly the most adorable wannabe apprentice plumber.

I told the plumber. ‘He’s inspired. He might become a plumber, too!’

To that, the plumber looked at me with serious eyes.

‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘You tell him to stay in school. He does not want to be a plumber.’

I laughed it off but really I felt so sorry for the man. It was the regret in his eyes. A good man, maybe a little tired of it all. A little bit sick of all the poop. Literally.

I hope he finds another gorgeous toddler to brighten his day tomorrow.

Maybe then the poop will seem a little less…poopy.


Blogtober promo pic