There are five children who live in this house with us. One minute we were eating our first takeaway without cutlery on the floor of a freshly bought fixer- upper. Then we blinked and were surrounded by two, three, make it five short people who entertain us endlessly and drive us to a frenzy with the speed of this busy life.
A couple of friends had been suggesting I do this bloggy thing for a while. I had been visiting their blogs, using up their comment space and hanging out in their cyber houses. It really was time to invite them back. When I lost a year's worth of photos off our camera it seemed like the right time to start. I needed to record some of the ephemera that makes the days so messy and funny and memorable when you live with a house full of diverse personalities and events. Some weeks so much happens in this old farmhouse that I get a little dizzy and have lapses of memory and, some might argue, sanity. Other weeks it can be very quiet. This is a rare and precious thing and noteworthy in itself.
Frequently I can't remember what happened the previous day so I'll never remember in years to come unless it is chronicled somewhere. We may not record footsteps on the moon but there will be well made sling shots, great op shop finds, gratuitous chicken observation, trombone wrangling, tea with girlfriends, unidentified potions in the fridge, happy surprises, domestic disasters, etc. And maybe there will also be footsteps on the moon.
If the planets align there may even be the miracle of the occasional piece of art being made. So this is a bit of fluff about a family's domestic and hopefully artistic life and the art of living it.
