Toadstools for Robin and woodland greens for the dining room. Are you sensing a theme?
Do you dream big? I dream big now. There’s not much time and there seems little point in dreaming safe, dreaming small.
“Tiny Tales are not just for big boys, you know”, Robin informed me after last week’s math story was complete, “Can I have a Tiny Tale, too?” And those dark-as-coal eyes looked up at me and I said, “Okay, Bobbin, it’s your turn next”. So, this week is a Tinier Tale, just the right sizeContinue reading “Tinier Tales – Aggie in the Berry Patch (days of the week)”
I have this daydream. I think I want to make it come true. I dream of an enchanted garden full of lavender and ferns and teeny houses made of wood. I dream of fairy lights and mushrooms and benches made just the right height for little children.
When I was pregnant with Cohen, I used to tell him stories. I would rest a hand on the curve of his tiny back beneath my skin, close my eyes and lower my voice almost to a whisper. I would send feelings of utter peace through my blood, from my heart to his.
Winter was my favourite season before having children. I loved frosty walks and those winter smells: hot chocolate, icy winds, cinnamon and brown sugar.
When Robin was born, my world came tumbling down. Post-natal depression brought me to rubble and I spent nearly four years rebuilding myself, shedding pieces and people along the way.
As the sun slipped silently below the horizon, the sunset elves climbed down from the clouds with their watercolour paintboxes and began to work. First, a little orange stripe, then a puddle of pink. Maybe a little purple tonight, and ultramarine blue brushed lightly across the underside of the clouds. Turquoise brush dipped into theContinue reading “Small World Stories – Sunset Elves”