Pretty Funny Beautiful Crazy Living

Another ordinary day.  But exceptional in its way.  We don't often go shopping, but Ashleigh took us out to get Rowan a birthday present, and well, you know, any excuse for Nandos...  And we have just had a lovely normal peaceful day *and yet* been into town.  The two are usually not so compatible.  An extra adult and one child off at a sleepover work wonders for ease of movement (much as I hate to say so).

My day did start rather early.  I'm trying to get up when Tali rouses to toilet, because otherwise I regret not getting that first catch of the day.  It's a tricky dilemma, because it isn't so much the need to take her to the bathroom regularly that is stalling me so badly, it's more the length of time I have to spend alone solely focussed on one task.  It feels terrible to me that I just can't do that.  I can juggle any amount of different roles and tasks, but find it so hard to give myself entirely over to just one (boring) present moment (unless it's one of those beautiful perfect moments) - do you know what I mean?  :S

I took the opportunity to take pictures of yarn.  When did I become that woman?  Ah well.  The cat "helped".

I also took gratuitous pictures of children's things as I was tidying the play room, which is *obviously* something normal sensible people get it into their heads to do before 6am...  ;)

The pile of books are those that Jenna uses as her text books when she plays Harry Potter.  And the silks are a big stack of dyed-by-me with a small stack of huge dyed-by-Beneath the Rowan Tree on etsy.  So pretty!

The two big children left at home playing together before we went out.  And...

Climbing like monkeys in town!

What trip out would be complete without Rowan sulking at the dinner table?  Love that pout.

New shoes!

Totally worn out...

Every now and again I just have an overwhelming urge to capture every little detail.  The things that are passing me by and making me crazy and filling me to the brim Right Now.  Time is flying at the moment.  When is it not, I guess?  But still.  Talia is four months old.  And I am dancing.  (Sometimes I think, "on hot coals", but other times, just dancing, flowing, through the beautiful precious moments.)  The river of time is rushing us on towards Summer at a terrifying rate, it seems to me.