The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of it's furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-Jelaluddin Rumi.

Shearing

This is Andy, our shearer.

My Dad was a shearer, it's part of the job description of being a Farmer. His Dad was too. My Dad grew up in a tent by the side of the Murray River, his family were share-farmers, waiting for the day they had enough money to buy their own farm.

I think this is why us kids never went camping as children, Dad just didn't understand why we wanted to leave a comfortable bed, running water and a flushable toilet. He would say 'How is camping a holiday?'.

Back to shearing, My dad, his dad and brothers would travel the district, shearing in the most appalling conditions. It was my Grandfather Jim Willett who was instrumental in starting the shearer's union.

I wish my children could see their Pa shear our sheep, but Pa lives four hours away and in nearly 80years.

I wish my boys see their Pa like I see him.

They see a man who lives in town, I see a man who lives for the wide open spaces. They see a man who struggles to read a newspaper, I see a man who never missed his shot. They see a man who is stiff with the years, I see a man able to climb a tree in one bound.

But still the children are drawn to him, maybe they sense what he was about. I guess this is what they call the generation gap.

Not even in your dreams can you visit the house of tomorrow.

This wool is superfine merino, it is oh so soft!. Joey is wrapped up in the brown fleece.

Flynn made a bed on the white.

The children dragged their bag of fleece upstairs, declaring that they were sleeping in their fleece tonight.

Gorgeous sliver/grey fleece.

Chickens

Oh so protective this mama is, I'm surprised Joey was quick enough to pick one up. As soon as he put the chick down the hen checked her chick then flew at Joey and pecked his knee.

I think they are two roosters, and I won't tell you what happens to boys on our farm, least to say that girls have a lovely long life.

Hexenhaus

This one's Joseph's.

Flynn did a tree.

Jim did a stable.


Nibble nibble like a mouse,
who's that nibbling at my house!.

Hexenhaus

This year, the children drew their gingerbread house on paper first and then we made a template for each one

By the time it came to little Alice I was exhausted, so she just got some dough and did lots of shapes.

She didn't seem to mind.

Advent

This year I decided that I would make an German Advent calender for each child, everyday they would receive a little gift, to mark the day.

I should have known that it is nearly impossible for me to make the same thing twice, let alone fours times.

So one between four. they are very good a sharing. They have to be!

It sounded like a good idea until I did the maths, um, 28 pressies x four, gulp, oh my, wayyyyy to much brain power for this little treat.

So the list of little pressies included:
beautiful stones
out for tea
Lyra crayons and pencils
out for tea
matchbox cars
stamps
out for tea
chocolate
I think you get the picture.

Our nativety table, For the first week of advent, the mineral kingdom is honoured, beautiful stones placed around the stable.

The second week, the plant kingdom, fresh roses from the garden are gathered.

The third week, the animal kingdom, the fences are made and straw is brought in.

The fourth week, Mary, Joseph and the donkey, make their way to the stable, their journey starts at the top of our stairs, and the angel, so beautifully made by Cadi, slowly drops down day by day to the stable bringing baby Jesus.

What dreams are made of

Our garden in all her glory,
10 years ago, Our dream was to turn this bare paddock into our garden of eden, and like every gardener, it's still not there yet. But as I look around and see the tall manor gums soaring to the sky, Joey building makeshift cubbies in the hedges, Jim catching frogs and lizards, the orchard bursting with fruit and baby blue wrens in the lavender.

I realise how lucky we really are, to see with my very own eyes, what I had dreamed for, for my children.