There she goes

O March, you are slipping away from me. I haven't forgotten you. I send you many private blessings and much hearty gratitude for all that you are:
...the first cooling of the air (so welcome)
...the return of a blankie to my bed,
...a nice long month to settle in to,
...a string of surprisingly hot days to remind us to swim swim swim - go! Dive in to that glistening water and enjoy it's delicious cleansing because we're on the way to deeper Autumn and then Winter and we'll then be having a little reprieve from swimming,
...clear blue skies,
...nights of yoga when one can sleep to yoga nidra under a blanket (but not me. Enlightened one. I don't sleep to yoga nidra. Officially.),
...the month of preparation for Harvest festivals which will celebrate all the bounty of the harvest, our gratitude, our gifts, before turning in for the introspective season,
...and the approaching, much anticipated, holiday.

I'm checking out of here for a couple of weeks due to the arrival of a sicky sicky spew bug to our family, the need to recuperate, and the o so clear need to pack for a holiday.

So March, blessed be.

How to rejuvenate the Mama

Ahhh, yes... a weekend away will certainly go a long way in the restoration and rejuvenation of this Mama's soul.

Last weekend this small tribe headed off for different adventures. The Zimbabwean had the home all to himself and the little boykies headed off to a lake down south for a weekend of fun with Nana and Grandad. They went fishing, jumping off jetties, sting-ray spotting, boating, biking and generally loving the campsite life.

And me? Well, I skipped all the way to a Lala weekend away. Lenka, Angie, Layney and I found ourselves "a contemporary weekender", set in the rolling hills near Kangaroo Valley. Those girls are fun, you know... very easy to spend a weekend with. And we weren't alone: there were the mating huntsman spiders in the room that became mine (!), another one in another bedroom, the moths, the crickets, an echidna, a back-rubbing wombat (well, we hope it was a wombat!) that woke me up at 2am, a kangaroo, a snake (spotted by Ange and Layney on their morning walk), a leach that tried to suck the life out of my leg (but I was saved by Lenka and the salt - lucky), some cows, and the kookaburras and whip birds.

I had the best egg benedict with dill-cured salmon that I have ever tasted at the Sour-dough bakery in Berry. That gave us the energy to check out all the nooks and crannies of Berry's shops, just because we could! Ange and I managed to find matching french knickers to breakfast in on Sunday. Actually, I think Ange dined in them on Saturday night too, but I'm sure you don't want to hear every detail.

Did you know that a self-composting toilet actually smells less than a regular western flush loo? Well, I'm happy to say it does! (if you leave the fan on at all times) One more fine detail to add to the specs of my dream home.

Ach, ja. All good things must come to an end. Sadly, we did have to return home. One more night of slumber - with the southern stars above, and a quiet tea, some morning yoga and chanting, and the space to read in bed in the morning - really would have been the icing on the Victoria sponge.