Spitting Image
The exact double of (another person or thing).“He’s the spitting image of his dad”
I have just found the above photo of Nick when he was a baby. I have written before about Poppy’s likeness to her Dad here, but as you can see from the photos of James below, he is also the spitting image of his dad with that little glint in his eye, the same mouth and those cheeks:
Here are a couple more of Nick:
No time for cooking when there is a world-class museum in the neighbourhood!
I met Annabelle and her daughter Lilly at MONA yesterday, where we introduced James to contemporary art. The little fella wasn’t that enamoured with the artwork or installations as he fell asleep for the most part. He did manage to squeeze out a few smiles for Lilly however!
After our wander through the museum we enjoyed a delicious Thai Pumpkin Soup at the wine bar. A lovely day out. Xxx
It turned out that poor Poppy had a ruptured ear infection so it was no wonder she was out of sorts last week. A good dose of antibiotics has done the trick and she is (almost) back to her sprightly self. She laid low with her Dad over the weekend, whilst James and I went back up to Hagley to spend time with my Mum and Dad.
Even though I am firmly ensconced in my life in Hobart, there is something about returning ‘home’. I feel this every time I go back to our family farm … this beautiful place where I was very lucky to grow up.
I went for a wander yesterday morning and it brought back many memories of my childhood. Of the treehouse perched in the big oak tree, to the maze of cubby houses in the hay shed, to the bike jump built on the side of the dam wall that seemed so ‘Evil Knieval’ at the time and now through adult eyes is nothing more than a mere rise on the surface and to learning to drive when you were still in single digits.
I can’t wait to share all of these adventures with Poppy and James and to be able to give them the ‘rough and tumble’ experience of farm life!
Woah – give me strength, cause I am in the boiler room!
Poppy has come down with a cold and flu combined with teething pain, resulting in restless nights and grizzly days. James also jumped on the bandwagon – waking every two hours last night as well. Enough already!!
I just need to sit back and listen to Bonobo’s Boiler Room DJ Mix to clear my head (and to dream of Ibiza or just anywhere exotic)!
Today I am loving all the future possibilities of dressing our little man James. Here is a very cool winter outfit:
I am a shocker for always looking toward the future and thinking “Oh, when James is 6 months old, I will be out of the newborn fog“; “When Poppy turns three she will be...” or “When I go back to work it will be easier“! What am I saying – these days are blessed.
When James looks up at me with those loving eyes and gives me a little smile and coos – why would I want to wish away these days? Before long he will be running out the door with his friends and his Mum will be seriously uncool.
I guess I have always struggled with the “Catastrophe Syndrome“, so perfectly described by my friend Anne. I find I hold my breath and wonder if the children are going to sleep well, if they are going to eat all their dinner, if they are teething or coming down with an ear infection? I then catch myself out and think – what is the worse thing that can happen? Nick is fantastic for me in this regard – taking on the pragmatic approach and providing a level playing field during my anxious moments.
Each day I look at my gorgeous family and am forever grateful for this journey I am on … bumps and all!
Ps – Speaking of teething, Poppy woke up crying at 5 am this morning and said:
Mummy, my mouth is sore, down my hole (pointing down her throat). Sore throat perhaps?
This recipe is usually an Apple Tea Cake but I have so many jars of preserved pears left that I am keen to use them before the new season of pears ripen. So I replaced the apples in this recipe with pears and it was absolutely delicious … oh and very easy.
Source: Scoff and Quaff
I love this time of year when the hawthorn hedges are in full bloom and the poppy crops are starting to flower. The best place showcasing this spectacle is in the Northern Midlands of Tasmania, where Poppy, James and I were visiting my family late last week.
We also called into see my oldest friend Prue on her farm on Friday morning, where Poppy loved knowing that the flowers in the paddock were also called ‘Poppies’.
Back in Hobart now and I am enjoying the start of a new week – however I am going to buy Poppy a ‘Rewards Star Chart‘ today as she is displaying some challenging and defiant behaviour. Oh the joys of a two and half-year old!
Today I am loving my new leather Il Bisonte Tray that I recently bought with some birthday money!
A “trinket tray”, which is a terrible name. In French they’re known as a “vide-poche”, which is exactly descriptive – an “empty-pocket” into which one can divest oneself of the day’s essentials – coins, keys, and phone of course. But they’ve been around for years, and make a terrific gift. By the bedside, on the hall table, on the desk at the office – a useful place for “stuff”, and an elegant solution for one of modern life’s problems!
l’esprit de l’escalier (French)
That feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said.
There is no word in the English language for this.
The Poppy Files 