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Sunday, April 11, 2010

A misty morn


These photos were taken at 0700 this morning, as you can see a thick fog blankets everything. This type of fog is a rarity in the outer Northern suburbs, hence the reason I took the photos. It was quite a pleasant way to wake up, with mist clinging to the screens and the drizzly greyness making it necessary to turn on the lamps. It was quite cosy really.

Yesterday I had some friends and neighbours over for my daughter’s fourth birthday party. I also invited my nieces, but my brother, being the unreliable individual he was, did not show. Despite this disappointment, the day was quite relaxing and the children had a ball, the lounge room looking like a tornado had whipped through it by the time they all had left. But with the help of my Mum, it took less than half an hour to put everything back in its place. On Elizabeth’s actual birthday her Grandparents and I plan to take her to the beach (she just loves the water), with a detour to her favourite toyshop.

It is now going onto 0900am and it looks like the fog is finally dissipating to reveal another glorious autumn day. This morning I plan to go through a couple of table tasks with my daughter before getting ready for work. I cannot wait for the day when I can just laze around on a Sunday, although with my daughter sleeping in till 6am for a change this morning it has been quite pleasant so far.

Saturday, April 03, 2010

Happy Easter

Many modern Wiccans and Pagans celebrate Easter as a time of renewal and rebirth. Derived from the word Eostre (also known as Ostara), an ancient Anglo-Saxon Goddess, she symbolized the rebirth of the day at dawn and the rebirth of life in the spring. Not particularly religious, the Pagan celebration of Easter has a certain appeal to my romantic sensibilities. This has become even more poignant in recent years as my daughter was born during Easter. During this special holiday, we are urged to take some time to celebrate the new life that surrounds us in nature, to walk in a park, lay in the grass, or to hike through a forest mediating upon the ever-moving wheel of the year that is the changing of the seasons.