Storms have hit us again, it's cold and wet and very windy outside.
The skies are heavy and grey, rain and hail filling their bellies. The wind roars through the woods and throws the sea back against itself and the cliffs. Over and over again I am drawn back to the window to look out, to watch the waves pushing hard against the wind, their tops ripped off and whipped across the bay. Every second it is different, so powerful and so very beautiful.
And I am grateful to be indoors, with the heating on, with these special little people of mine.
Every second Saturday afternoon I pack the kids up to go and stay the night with Andy fetching them home again Sunday evening. Every week day I pack the older two up to go to school, so it is only one day, this day, in every fortnight that we don't have to get dressed if we don't want to, where I don't need to watch the clock, where we don't have to get into the car and leave this cosy wee nest. And so on days like these, I breath it in deep: the peace, the creativity, the togetherness.
I brought the duplo lego into the living room and the three of them played together so beautifully, helping each other, telling the stories of their game, commiserating with each other when a tower crashed down.
Garry brought the logs to us in case the electricity goes in this storm and we are without heat, and it was so good to see him just for a quick cup of tea, to have him here and to be a part of this day.
We read stories and chatted,
And Rebe learnt to use the machine...