Bonded

There is something so special that exists between a mother and a daughter.  It's a bond that allows 2 hearts to speak to each other without words.  It is something magical.

A mother holds our hands and our hearts.

Often, my mother and I send each other the same message at the same time.  Some people will say "great minds", but I think that maybe it's more a case of same minds.  Now that I am expecting a daughter of my own, I can only pray that we will have the same kind of bond.  Secretly I wished that I would have a girl.  As there are so many relationships with so many wonderful women in my life that I would like to carry on with her.  To teach her how to set a table.  How to keep her heart safe.  How to skip, to dance.

I can only pray that the strength and wisdom that I've learnt from my mom will channel through me.  Quirks and all.

Mother, daughter and some wisdom from here.

Cake

There is something really comforting about baking and eating your own cake.  This recipe is wonderful, because you probably have most of the ingredients in your house already.  And it's really easy!

Ingredients

2 cups flour
¾ cups cocoa powder
1 ½ tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla essence
2 cups sugar
½ cup oil
1 cup boiling water or hot coffee (I used espresso)
2 eggs

Method:

• Preheat the oven to 180°C. 
• Spay two 23cm round cake pans or one 23x33cm rectangular baking pan with spray & cook. 
• In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients together.
• Add the eggs, milk, oil and vanilla essence and beat with an electric mixer for about two minutes. 
• Add the boiling water or coffee and mix until combined.
• Pour the batter into the prepared pans and bake for 30-40 minutes.
• To test if the cake is ready, insert a toothpick into the middle of the pan. If it comes out clean, the cake is ready. 
• Use a knife around the edge of each cake to loosen it from the pan, turn the pan over onto a metal rack to cool.

When cooled completely, ice the cake with ganache or buttercream icing.  Enjoy!

It's true

Sunday nights all bring the same thing.  A feeling.  An emotion.  

If you had to choose a colour to describe it, only blue would suffice.  Sunday night blues happen.  

Maybe it's the feeling of a giant new week with many scary, unknown things approaching.  At a speed we cannot control.  The sweet cushion of the weekend inevitably melts and you are left with the down that follows a sugar rush.

The funny thing is that the antidote that works best (well, for me) is more sugar.  Some kind of sweet treat to soothe a bluesy heart.

Home

I travel a lot.  Not the kind of travel that promotes fun pictures on your wall - although I have done some of that.  The other day someone asked me where I was from.  And that got me thinking.  Where am I from?  I didn't grow up where I was born.  I didn't start my adult life where I grew up.  I moved to another country, and then moved to a different town in said country.  Soon after this, I moved to yet another country.  

I find myself wondering if I have been running away all this time.  Have I been looking for bigger, better things?  Have I achieved any of these things.  Now, whilst Sundays are often spent in church, reflecting the meaning of life and the maker of it, I find myself reflecting too.  

Is it possible that I have been searching for home?  And what defines home?  Is home where you were born, grew up, moved to, moved to or moved to?  Or shall I write that cheesy truth on all my forms, and admit that really, home is where the heart is?

Gorgeous shack (home) from Pips Photography

Fixed.

:-)

It is possible.  You can benefit from meeting a friend even if it's the very last thing on earth you feel like doing.  Its possible that the little pep talk you have been needing to hear all day - that little judgement free pick-me-up - will only be found in that specific source.  That your one fix for the day will go unused if you cancel.  Especially if you cancel at the last minute.

I felt like cancelling today.  Sleep was mere seconds away when my phone rang.  First I felt annoyed.  Then I answered.  The invitation was for coffee.  Nothing difficult or stressful or even remotely in need of too much brainpower.  But the land of sleep seemed far more appealing.

I had to drag myself with most of my will.  Needless to say that when I arrived, my mood was far less than sparkling.  But I went anyway.  Because a friend, a real one,  knows the ins and outs of who you are and how you feel and generally doesn't really mind if you are a bit off.

And, after the first 5 minutes and half a chai latte the pep-talk was given (never in a way that feels like a pep talk) and I started to feel more and more polished.  It is possible that  friends are the most wonderful things ever.  And that they fulfil a specific need.  The need to have ourselves polished and appreciated.  And fixed.

Pumped

Often you can't find shoes that you love, no matter how much you walk around.  Enter the beauty of online shopping.  For the love of shoes (comfortable ones for a change), here is a collection of pumps that stole my heart..........

Gorgeous yellow pumps from Zando, black ballerinas from ASOS, nauticals and greens from Next, sparkly from Style 36, pink and tan from Sarie, fushia at H&M, red heart dot from Mr Price.

One the edge

Do you ever have the dream where you find yourself standing on the edge somewhere.  And you have to decide.  Will you jump?  Will you turn around?  Will you run?

When emotion overtakes all reasoning and heart is all that counts - will you listen?  When that perfect day finally arrives - will you be strong enough to jump?

My friend is standing on the edge this morning.  Dressed is perfect white.  Beaming.  

Gorgeous bouquet from ideas from here.

Rules

A friend posted this great piece of  happiness advice on Facebook and it really spoke to me.  Especially the part about freeing your mind from worries.  I like to obsess and think and get stuck on things.  I wonder if I should try to apply these rules like a new-years resolution.  But maybe call it a new life/outlook resolution?

Wake me slowly

It has long been a Saturday tradition in my house.  The slow morning.  There is something delicious about being awake with nowhere to go.  Nowhere but a venture out for breakfast.

This morning, we went to one of my favourite places.  L'Epicerie makes me smile.  Delicious croissants, good coffee, speciality deli items imported from France.  What's not to like?

So, in the spirit of slow awakenings, we had our morning croissant, coffee and great company - even if we didn't say much.

Panic

Earlier today, the king of the jungle and I decided it would be nice to go and play in the garden downstairs.  Now, king Pikpik is no lion.  He is a small furry, loving bunny.  I picked him and my phone up and we headed outside.  Initially he just sat with me and pretended to be afraid of the new surroundings.  What a great actor.  We regularly came to play, so I nudged him to get on with it.   I had plans.  And, only a sample of a new book on my kindle app.  45 minutes later, having finished said sample, I decided it was time to go back upstairs.  For a little while I enjoyed chasing the king around.  He obviously loved it.  

An hour later, having used carrots and apples as lures, he was still running away from me.  I started to panic.  What if I couldn't catch him and he became a wild bun?  My heart couldn't bear the thought.  I prayed.  I pleaded.  Finally I decided to lie down next to him.  I spoke quietly, offering blades of grass.  And after half an hour of lying in the sand and grass, he just let me pick him up.  

The wonderful thing is that my sweet bunny could feel my panic.  And it drove him away.  When I finally gave up and spent some time face to face with him, he relaxed and let me take him home. 

Say it

With Mother's day looming (12 May),  I find myself looking at pretty pictures and wishing, more than anything, that I could be with my mom this year.  It's not that we need a day to remember who our mothers are.  We know how important they are in our lives.  They hold our hands, they dream and pray for us.  

Mother's day doesn't serve to remind us how important our mothers are to us.  Really, it is there to remind the mothers in our lives that they are important.   Celebrate your mom, be it flowers, cards, chocolates or pampering.  The most important thing is to make her understand what she means to you.  Say it.

              Beautiful tin can arrangement form here.

Little umbrellas....

When people find out that you live on an island, they automatically assume that you spend your days lounging on the beach, sipping cocktails with little umbrellas.  They are surprised, if not offended, if your tan is not darker than theirs.  They almost expect you to walk around with sand in your hair, car, handbag.

In actual fact, if us islanders are honest, we don't spend nearly enough time on the beach.

This May day, however, we packed the car, made sarmies, chilled the beer (sorry, no cocktails) and made our way down to the beach.  As we pitched our big umbrella and settled in for the day, we couldn't help but wonder:  "We live on an island.  Why don't we do this more often?"