The Final Smile. Blogtober 31st.

In Australia, today is Halloween.

For those who are unfamiliar with Australian traditions, Halloween, unfortunately, is celebrated by very few people.

I cannot think why.

Halloween is a little piece of childhood wonder, wrapped up in a pumpkin.

It is a chance to see the eyes of a child light up at the sight of a yummy treat or a well rehearsed trick.

It is a chance to relax. To let go of our uptight lives for one night and let all of our cares simply fly off into the stars.

That is why I wish us Australians celebrated Halloween with more gusto. And that is why the magic of Halloween made me smile multiple times today.

So please, sit back, relax, and let me take you on the journey that lead to my very last smile.

Chapter One.

Baby C and I check the letters together, every single day. It’s our thing. Baby C loves to bite chunks out of the envelopes and I love to fish the soggy paper out of his mouth. Oh, no, wait…

Anyhow, today, in the mail, we found a note that went along the lines of this:

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I looked at the piece of paper. And then I looked at it a bit longer.

What do I do?

I had no treats. And I certainly had no tricks.

What do I do? I could see this precious little person in my minds eye. His beautiful little puppy dog eyes looking up at his Daddy asking why there were no pumpkins at this house.

I couldn’t have that.

Here was my chance to share one final smile.

And what a smile it would be.

Chapter Two.

I dumped the pile of candy on the counter.

‘Preparing for tonight, are you?’ The Chinese shop keeper winked at me.

‘Yes,’ I said, sheepishly. ‘I’d hate for people to turn up and I had nothing for them. I’ve just realised, you must be very busy today. A lolly shop!’

The man packed the lollies into a paper bag and slowly nodded.

‘Well, actually, like you, we have to prepare. People will come in here to trick or treat, also. We must have enough to give.’

‘For free?’ I said, shaking my head, in awe.

Smile, Miss Cookas.

Smile.

Chapter Three.

House after house looked exactly as it had yesterday.

Except for this one.

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Chapter Four.

I got home and I made these.

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Chapter Five.

I put it all  together.

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Chapter Six.

I stood back and waited for the smiles to come.

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Chapter Seven.

Mister C had gone to get our dinner and returned to me typing away, preparing this post: my final smile.

He purposefully stopped right in front of me and said this.

‘You’ll be happy.’

I looked up at him as if to question why.

‘Half the chocolates were gone. And I saw a little boy and his Dad walking along, hand in hand. The little boy was carrying a little pumpkin basket. Oh yeah, and he looked pretty happy.’

And that was my final smile for the month.

My final, beautiful heart smile.


Dear Readers,

I cannot thank you enough for reading along with my smiles each day.

Some have been heart smiles.

Some have been silly smiles.

Some have been obvious smiles. Others, less so.

But whatever the case, every day this month has been an amazing one. Not only have I found my smile in places that I never even dared to look, but I have also found one more thing.

YOU.

So whether you have been smiling along with me since the very begining, or whether you have caught me on my very last smile, I say to you this.

Thank you for giving me a reason to look for the smile in life.

Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll have plenty more smiles to share in the future.

Just maybe not every day.

xx Miss Cookas

Blogtober

Everything’s coming up Roses! Blogtober 30th.

I’m not sure what is going on with our garden.

There are weeds everywhere. Some are as tall as the fence.

I am not kidding.

As tall as the fence.

But we have an 8 month old baby and, let’s face it, babies are a lot of fun.

And so we hang out with him. Instead of hanging out with the garden.

There is such potential in our lovely little garden.

I think you’ll agree.

Its flowers are nothing short of lovely.

And well worth today’s smile.


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The Very Happy Sippy Cup. Blogtober 29th.

This is Sippy.

Explora sippy cup

This is the very cheeky baby. You remember him, don’t you?

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The very cheeky baby thought that Sippy was a most excellent toy.

He would shake Sippy.

              And bang Sippy.

                                               And throw Sippy.

This made Sippy feel sad. He didn’t want to be treated like a toy.

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But then, Sippy discovered that he was not alone!

The bowls…

Ikea childrens bowls

…had become a toy snail!

Imaginative play

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                                                               The spoons…

Ikea Childrens cutlery

…had become drumsticks.

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They had also become oars, used to sail the seven seas!

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Even his best sippy friend was a toy!

Nubby Sippy cupA super toy who could fly through the sky and save the day!!

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From that day on, Sippy was surrounded by fun and games and laughter.

Yes. He was a very happy sippy cup, indeed.

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Blogtober

Dream, Believe, Achieve. Blogtober 28th.

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This is what people see as they walk  past our house.

That word.

Can you read it?

That is the word that makes me smile more than any other in this big wide world.

I want to shout it into the sky with my arms wide open and my eyes shut tight.

It should be shouted.

It should be sung.

It should be written.

It should be lived.

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Blogtober

Love Conquers All. Blogtober 27th.

My Grandmother—my kind, gentle Grandmother—has Dementia. There’s nothing smile worthy about that. It’s awful. It’s cruel and it’s quick.

Although she is physically still here, I have lost such a large part of my precious Nan. I have lost the shine in her eyes as she recounts the moment of my birth. I have lost the songs that she used to sing in the kitchen. I have lost my biggest fan.

And it cuts deeper than I care to admit.

But then there was today when I smiled my most glorious smile.

I asked my Grandfather how he was feeling about it all and, as usual, he lamented the facts. The love of his life was missing most of the time. Tragic. Unfair. Confusing.

I asked him if he needed some time away. I told him he should take some time away.

‘I won’t leave your Grandmother,’ he said, firmly. ‘I can’t leave her.’

I looked down at my joyous baby boy who played on his colourful mat, oblivious to the pain.

I can’t believe this.

Is it really possible for the human spirit to shine through this awful disease?

Is love really that strong?

Yes.

It turns out, love really is that strong.

And don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

If they do, you tell them this story.

Tell them about the smile you once heard of.

Tell them about that sweet old man who refused to leave the woman he loved, even for an hour, because he loved her.

Love really is that beautiful.

It really, really is.

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Blogtober