An exciting announcement! Blogtober 28th.

My moment today was one of discovery.

Do you remember this young lady?

Zilma, the pigeon.

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You may recall that, after much heartache…

Two new eggs arrived on her nest.

Two more chances to be a Mummy.


Guess what?


Zilma has become a MUMMY!

Two little pigeon babies born.

Snuggled up with Mummy.

Safe and sound.

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Flutter by, Butterfly. Blogtober 25th.

The little girl in my heart came alive today.

She remembered this place with such fondness.

The butterfly enclosure at Melbourne Zoo;

It was still there.

Exactly as five year old me remembered it.


It was wonder and whimsy and sparkle;

A million colours in the sky.

It was a toddler that found a new reason to smile.

A new reason to giggle.

It was just…




So full of lovely.


So full of moments.


Sadness lives far away from here.

That’s what the child within me whispered.

But adult me saw things that her innocent eyes could not see.


It did live here, after all.


Poor, poor butterfly.

So sad, but still able to fly.

A lucky break to hush her sadness.

A thousand beautiful friends.

All fluttering by to cheer her up.


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Everything’s coming up roses, again! Blogtober 24th.

Every year in winter, our garden turns into a jungle.

Weeds, on top of weeds.

Shame, everywhere I look.

Then comes spring.

And everything comes up roses.


When the first spec of pollen hit…

I had a moment.

Ours is the garden that just keeps on giving.

It never asks much in return.

It just keeps coming up roses.

No questions asked.


Every year, its beauty takes my breath away.


So today I decided to give something back.

I got down on my hands and knees and I…

Actually weeded.


I gardened.

And it was so, so good.


Every now and then I’d look up.

And there it was.

A sweet little thank you.


Yes. That garden of ours.

She’s special.

And I am so glad she got a little bit of love from me, today.

Beautiful girl.

She so deserves it.

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Pigeon Babies. Blogtober 16th.

I checked the nest every day.  Zilma the grotty—but ever so lovely— wild, pigeon was perched there, sometimes sleeping, sometimes staring back at me with laser eyes. Stay away from my babies, they said. I tried to respect her space. But she’d set up the nest right outside of our bedroom window. And those little eggs; two precious, baby pigeons in waiting. How could I not feel excited for her?

One day when I returned to the nest, Zilma was not there.  And neither was one of the eggs.

Where did it go? Surely it hadn’t hatched yet. Did she destroy it, knowing the life that grew within was not viable? Did she accidentally knock it from its perch? Or did one of the not-so-friendly neighbourhood birds snatch it away. My imagination ran wild. Whatever the case, I felt sorry for poor Zilma.

But at least she still had the one egg.

Later that day, I checked the nest again. Zilma was back. This time, though, I knew she was warming just one, lonely egg.

A few days later I returned to the window to find a cracked shell. Her baby had hatched! But Zilma was nowhere to be found. Nor was her baby.

Curious, beyond curious.

She couldn’t have flown it off to a second nest could she? I highly doubted it. So, once again, I walked away, shaking my head.

Time went on and,still, Zilma and her baby did not return. The nest remained intact but it had quite clearly been abandoned.

Until the other day, that is, when the moment of all moments happened. Zilma! After the loss of her two little ones, she was back, proudly perched upon two, shiny new eggs!

In fact, she’s there right now.

Growing a little family of pigeons.

I do hope her story has a happy ending, this time.

Just imagine.

Two tiny little pigeons, snuggled up to Mummy and chirping their way into my days.

Sounds just lovely, to me.

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Toddlers and Tulips. Blogtober 3rd

The toddler throws himself onto the ground in front of a bed of bright orange tulips.

‘Nooooo!! Noooooo!!’ his tinny voice cuts through the air, straight into the part of my brain that just does not want to go to toddler town, today. Because it’s the kind of day where everything flashes beneath the splendor of the sun, and there’s a sea of tulips that look like they’ve been expertly painted into their beds, right there. But the toddler doesn’t care—the toddler is feeling emotional. The toddler has other plans.


Now I’m pawing at the toddler’s arms and I’m trying to pull him up off the dusty red ground and, I’ll be honest, things are looking grim. It’s me against a nineteen month old with a chip on his shoulder. I shake my head and look around for Daddy, who’s disappeared among the tulips and become just another head in the crowd. It’s my job to head into the mess of tulips to take some happy snaps, but since the boy has other plans, so far I’ve snapped a total of one blurry shot.

I give up on the photo idea and suddenly my little angel and I are actually enjoying this. Together. Turns out, the toddler is a fan of tulips. And who could blame him. I mean, just look.





It’s been a long day. The toddler’s pooped and Mister C and I drag our weary legs homeward.

I’ve loved the tulips. But then this happens: the most beautiful moment of all.


Because when the Sun shines so brightly, I just know it’s my Nan shining down from her place in heaven. And I’ve just realised that today, she’s been right there tip toeing through the tulips with me.

No moment could be greater.


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