There's nothing quite like a mini break.  

We had an opportunity to take a trip down to Wollongong, south of Sydney, for a kids performance called Disney On Ice at the WIN Stadium.

On arrival we do what we usually do, find the nearest beach for a quick play.

Immediately the kids start to explore and find a stick to play with. What is it with boys and sticks? 

Rhett finds a small shell to present, and the boys dig around in the sand for an hour, content as I survey the grey horizon and snap photos on an oversized iPhone. 

Just one minute of activity captured on Wollongong Beach - they never stop! 

Just one minute of activity captured on Wollongong Beach - they never stop! 

I love how transient sand is, you think it's all just plonked there for eternity, but it really is in a constant state of flux, shifting with the tides and the winds. With the latest king tides across the east coast of Australia, houses were toppled in Collaroy when the sand bank was evacuated by the storm, and a huge mountain of sand (the worlds biggest sand castle) in Bulli had simply vanished into the ocean overnight. 

Theres this thing about sand too, that tells me something about the human condition. If you hold a handful of sand gently in your hand it will rest there and be contained by your gappy, imperfect fingers.

But hold the sand too tight, grip it too fiercely, and the grains will slip through the crevices of your hand and escape back to the beach. It won't work - the pressure to trap the sand will create its escape route.

Still for one trillisecond. 

Still for one trillisecond. 

After the beach, we adjourned to a nearby wine and food venue for a sundowner, dinner with two wriggly boys, and the world's best nine hours sleep anyone can imagine. 

Watching: Disney on Ice

Wearing: Kate Spade sparkly star jumper

Staying: Novotel Wollongong

Eating: Pork Ribs at The [M]eatery 

Visiting: Jaqueline Burgess Art at Woonona and Bulli

 

What's in a moon?

The moon brings me into a different state of being.

That giant's fingernail, a sliver of goldenness, hanging low in the sky.

Or a full white orb. Blazing its' light like a beacon in the wee hours of the morning.

I'll stand outside, regarding the moon from my porch, wondering at it from the garden, wherever there is the best view.

Or I'll grab our kids, pajama'd and ready for bed, and show them the sight, pick out some stars, and enjoy that special moment of moonlit cuddles.

The moon makes us realise that we are small creatures, yet part of something bigger. It's the best reminder to pull us out of ego and into the picture on a grand scale.

Lately I've been watching a loved one, helpless, as they chart their course into illness and ours into grief. It's a journey with no return. We are sad, impossibly sad, but also grateful for small moments stolen together, for family time, for the kind words from friends, and appreciative of the little things that mean so much.

We don't have much time, and none of us know when our clock stops. It feels at times like these, kindness, love and care makes the world go round.

At times like these, the moments we can spend watching the moon and feeling it's unique pull, somehow helps. Reinforcing that it's time to seize the now, and let your people know just how much you love them.

Current mood: wistful, heartfelt

Drinking: tea (in a Wills + Kate wedding mug)

Wearing: Fabletics pants, Bering watch, Arbonne Intelligence lip treatment

Listening to: Dora the Explorer in the background

Traveling to: Perth 

Reading: The Obstacle is the Way

Fave Quote:

"Love always protects
Love always trusts
Love always hopes
Love always perserveres
Love never fails."