I haven’t had much time to blog lately.
Life has simply been happening.
I’ve had such a busy summer behind me, filled with little adventures and a few things I’ve wanted to do for a zillion years. I can’t wait to share more of them with you — including our first little adventure in our new bell tent. Plus finally booking a cooking course at Rick Steins. Cannot wait to share that with you.
There has been something rather lovely about being too busy living to write about living.
A Little More Like Me
Over the last twelve months, I’ve collected quotes. And I have made a Pinterest board of them. And when I think I’ve found the best, most inspiring one yet find another equally the same. https://pin.it/6NGpFo2KC
They’ve become little reminders tucked into my days — words about love, joy, hope, simplicity and finding beauty in the ordinary.
And I think what has struck me most is that none of these things feel new.
They feel familiar.
Like little pieces of myself that have been quietly waiting to be noticed again.
Somewhere along the way, over the last decade or so, parts of me became quieter. Life became busy and complicated, and I think I became very good at putting certain parts of myself to one side.
But lately, I feel as though I’m finding my way back to them.
The dreamy part.
The hopeful part.
The part that gets excited about simple things.
The part that notices the light, the flowers, a beautiful morning, a cup of tea, a weekend away under canvas.
The part that believes there is always something lovely around the corner.
Choosing What I Give My Energy To
A friend said something to me this week that made me smile.
When the buyer pulled out of our home and everything fell through, she said she was struck by my attitude. I wasn’t consumed by it. My feeling was simply that, yes, it was disappointing — but worse things could happen.
And perhaps that isn’t a new version of me at all.
Perhaps it is just me, without quite so much noise around me.
I’m not pretending that difficult things don’t matter. They do.
But I’ve become much more comfortable with the idea that I don’t have to give everything my energy.
Some things are outside my decisions.
And there is something incredibly freeing about letting them be.
The Beautifully Ordinary
Materially things come and go. Plans change. Houses change hands. Things or people we once thought were enormously important eventually fade into old memories that disappear.
But the important things always stay.
But love remains.
Family remains – Just us 2
Friendship, laughter, health, sunshine, adventures and the people we get to share them with — these are the things that feel increasingly precious to me.
I’ve found myself noticing the simple things again.
Really noticing them.
And perhaps that is where joy has always lived.
Not in having more, but in being present enough to appreciate what is already here.
The Grass Beneath Our Feet
I’ve always believed that the grass is greenest beneath our own feet.
We don’t have to keep looking over the fence, searching for somewhere else, something else, or some other version of life to find it.
It is right here.
In the ordinary days. In the people we love. In the little adventures, the laughter, the fresh air, the morning light and all those seemingly insignificant moments that quietly make up a life.
And perhaps that is the comforting part — if the grass is already green beneath our own feet, then it has always been there.
Sometimes life simply gets busy enough that we stop noticing.
But it doesn’t mean it disappeared.
Perhaps it always was.
And so, for now, I’m enjoying this slower chapter.
Doing the things that make my heart happy.
Collecting beautiful words.
Making memories.
Sleeping under canvas.
Laughing with the people I love.
And slowly, gently, finding my way back to the girl who was always there underneath it all.
She’s still here.
And I rather like her.
