Sunday, February 23, 2014

7 & 8/52


Milinh - There is nothing you love more than bath time with your brother. 

Ba'il - Super sick and all you wanted to do was carry your orangutan around in a sling, just like your Mummy carries Milinh. 


Milinh - In your Daddy's arm on a rainy afternoon at the beach. These moments are far and few between lately. 

Ba'il - Walking your Copper dog and splashing in muddy puddles. My barefoot bush kid.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

River Dreaming - Projects


Lately I've been inspired by outdoor dinner parties and the art of table dressing. 

I've been collecting ideas and drawing up plans for the completion of our Top Shed outdoor bathroom. 

I'm also manifesting a teepee into our lives. The perfect addition to our Top Shed retreat. 

I'm dreaming up new adventures and being brave enough to leave it to the universe to decide. 

I'm wondering when my pantry will truly ever look this good. 

And hoping that one day I'll have enough time to get creative again. 

Friday, February 21, 2014

From bush to bright lights.

The speed limit drops to 60 as we approach the city. We stop at the first set of traffic lights and Milinh starts to cry. She's not used to all this starting and stopping. Ba'il gets excited about driving past the airport and seeing the planes in their hangers and A380's taking off to far away places. We only have 12 seater planes and smaller out bush.

Finally after 5 hours of driving, we are here. Its a tough gig travelling long distances with a baby and a toddler by yourself. This was already the 3rd trip for the year. I had hoped this trip would offer me a little bit of relief from the month of being a solo working parent. As I drive through the city I feel overwhelmed. The appointments, the traffic, the humidity, the people, the picket fences separating one box home from the next. I go to sleep hearing the suburbian dogs barking at each other. I wake in the morning to hear the neighbors conversation echo in their bathroom. And after a few days I seem to hear nothing at all. 

For this visit I had big plans. I planned to catch up with friends and their children who I hadn't seen in months. I hoped to use the beautiful picnic basket Caleb gave me for Valentines Day and to buy myself a new pair of wet season sandals. As always I would take Ba'il to as many playgrounds as possible. And this time I even planned to see a movie with my Caleb, for it had been so long since we had seen each other. And finally I had hoped that with some extra family hands I would get ontop of my never ending looming funding reports. 

Instead I spent the week endlessly breastfeeding a very miserable congested sick baby. Wiping up toddler tears and endless runny noses. Trying to disfuse tantrums as well as washing endless sheets and towels and wondering when I would ever have my hands free to hang them out. My days were spent sitting in doctors waiting rooms and going to sleep at 8:30 with Milinh. The nights were no better as I woke up at least five times a night to settle the poor feverish babe and tend to Ba'il's throbbing ears. This week was my first taste of mothering two sick children at the same time, while the rest of the house worked long hours and I juggled working and mothering from home. There were indeed a few tears on my behalf.

Overwhelmed and exhausted I spent my last night in 'civilization' reflecting. I listened to the neigbours noisey clothes dryer and to the distant hum of constant traffic. I thought about the next night when I'll be back home in the wilderness. My mum won't be down the hall way when I needed her to take the children for a few minutes or to help settle Milinh in the wee hours of the morning. My friends won't be down the road when I need a coffee or a hug. The playgrounds won't be there when we all need a break and fresh air. The shops won't be there for my every need and worst of all Caleb would be away for another week. 

To say the last few weeks have been a challenge would be an understatement. I felt so isolated even though it was the least isolated I had been in months and before I know it I'll be home in the bush and the silence of the wilderness will be almost suffocating. There's a fine art to getting the right balance when you live remote. And so it seems that lately I've lost the balance between the bush and the bright lights as I long to be both places at once. I'm find comfort in the buzz of the city as well as the stillness of the country. Now more then ever I am feeling a pull to call our River Nest home (pictured above). 

Sunday, February 9, 2014


A portrait of my children. Once a week, every week in 2014.

Ba'il - In the midst of the monsoon watercolours brighten your day. 

Milinh - We changed your pusher from the baby bassinet to the big girl chair. My goodness you were happy. 

Sunday, February 2, 2014


A portrait of my children once a week, every week for 2014. 

Ba'il - By the sea my free spirited boy sits. 

Milinh - The gusty winds of Cooktown were still for once, so you visited the beach for the very first time.