We sit in the tree shade, us grown-ups cross legged like a class of school children, while our wee ones babble and the puppy digs, and our chairman strains to be heard.
Resolution is the target. Agreement is the result.
We wander back to our front doors, a little closer than we were.
A small stone by Fi Phillips
Wonderful creative advice from Stan Lee.
My favourite song at the moment.
Wise words from a wonderful writer. Terry Pratchett will be missed. He was a one off, a wizard of words and a seer of magic.
Grey sky. Chill wind.
Warm words. Shared smiles.
A small stone by Fi Phillips
Just discovered this singer and this song. Alexi Murdoch - Breathe.
When they were younger, my children were an extension of myself. I could wrap them up and carry them away from cruel words. Now, they are themselves. They are individuals, bright seeds of their adult selves. I can no longer cocoon them away from harsh words, cruel deeds or malicious minds. I can only love them, prepare them and arm them with minds and hearts filled with confidence and self belief. When they hurt, I hurt. When they cry, I hide my own tears. These are hard lessons for us all but ones we must bear.
My darling butterflies must learn which flames to avoid.
A small stone by Fi Phillips
Day 100. What’s left of the cinnamon biscuits I baked this afternoon. #100happydays
Day 99. I was brought up in a house full of books and when my parents died, I inherited their collection, including those you can see in this photo. #100happydays
Day 98. Lunch made for me by my husband while I write. The photo looks blurred because the food was still steaming. #100happydays