Making a House a Home.... Imperfect Prose.

Making a house a home...

Isn't about perfect decor,
fixtures and fittings
cut and pasted from glossy pages....

It is about treasuring memories.

And turning them toward the light...


A house becomes a home slowly...
with the same kind of love,
that the old skin horse told the velveteen rabbit, turns toys real.
But only If they are truly loved till,
they become worn in ,
a little frayed around the edges...


A homely kitchen is not always gourmet...
But it is always good,
wholesome,
nourishing to both stomach and heart.
Even with the simplest of fare.


It fills a child with an aroma of memories...

And offers food for every sense....


Some days a posy of wild flowers will do,
other days (though maybe not so regular) roses from the one you love.
Sometimes an egg cup of daisies is the perfect thing.
Or maybe fresh cut flowers from a neighbour will grace the jar that cheers the kitchen sill.



Homemade and happy sitting on a shelf.
Reminds a house it is a home too...
It has a heart.

A lived in, loved through,
brimming full of colour and sound!
Making, baking, singing, and learning.
Reading and dreaming...


.... atmosphere...
Brings a home out of a house.

Putting your own unique mark on the furniture can help too :)
Poems written in golden thread and memory.

Light captured in the corners, beauty savoured in the ordinary, sacredness noticed in the everyday.

The learning how to see your own family story...
Weaving fragile and precious, through the days...

And a garden that doesn't have to be landscaped to be a little Eden...


Childhood lingers in both the fragrance of a rose and the clown wonder of a smiling sunflower.


Ragged overgrown gardens attract all kinds of wonderful wildlife anyway :)

And something for lunch maybe.

Old books passed down never put down long enough to gather dust!


And music...always music!
Even if it's "twinkle star" on repeat,
with fairy lights and dollies under covers.

Always creating, becoming, emerging till....
Our house takes on the creation of home and blessing for both those dear and the stranger too.

Not outer adorning, but inner knowing.

Antique collecting?

And the endless making of cosy corners to hide in....

Even the mess. Yes!

That never ending, silver sparkly wonder that four girls seem to unintentionally grow and scatter happy.

till somehow all my surfaces have a little glitter on them :)

Right to the darkest, quietest corners. Where in prayer, and stillness where we find ourselves,

each other...
and Him.

Within this place we call home.

Home isn't about the stuff that's in it. It's not about the sq footage, the location or the furniture.
It is about making a space that welcomes, that is honest, that reflects the heart of those who dwell within it's walls.
A home can't be cut out of a magazine. It is grown, like a garden from the rich soil of love....

My life is made up of imperfect prose and my home though imperfect is the centre of the story we share.

Hardly any of our furniture or appliances is new, and at any one time there will be something broken you can guarantee it :) Right now it's the fridge, swilling in its own meltdown :) And smelling slightly of rancid butter!

But what I'm trying to say is, it doesn't matter where you home is or how big it is. It can be beautiful. It can be a place of joy, and welcoming and togetherness and Love.

Enjoy reading more Imperfect Prose over at Emily's place friends :)

A Beautiful Morning.... Wandering Wednesday

I woke so early this morning.
Early mornings always seem to set the day peaceful.

Giving myself grace all the while for those times when my bed just feels too wonderful and my body too weary to rise from it at first light.

Tani rose at 4 am to take our dear nephew who has been staying with us a while to the airport. I couldn't get back to sleep so I surrendered to the soft, gentle sunlight that was already beginning to filter and stream over the houses and trees outside my window.

First I made tea.... Fair trade red bush with a little milk.... and what goes best with tea? Cake of course.


We baked apple cake and banana bread yesterday in anticipation of an early morning and a long journey today.


 I cut myself a thick slice and layer it with butter.

I found my favourite spot, beside the window to read...




"LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. "

Soon my soul is full too.



Before long the sound of little feet find their way to my spot by the window and then inevitably two little hands find their way to my cake.




Another slice is served with a cup of blueberries for the kitten sitting on the box beside her. For a little while... "All is peaceful in the old white cabin, everyone has his own job to do everyone is happy"...until...



Until she remembers the baby twins Sylvie and Goldie haven't had their breakfast yet!
"Listen, day are kying Mummy! Day need Dare Booberries ana cake too!"



While the babies eat I take out a pile of cleaning cloths and begin morning chores of cleaning, floors, sides, doors, windowsills.



But this little girl who likes to do everything her Mummy does must have her own cloth too.
She diligently "helps" and I get a nice smeary ahem, I mean "shiny" window for her trouble.



Soon pair of feet number two find their way downstairs, Lured by the smell of sweet treats for breakfast.



I wander outside while all is quiet and check the veggie plot.

I pick off a few pesky snails and spray some of my homemade chili, garlic, onion soap and water pesticide on the bugs that have nibbled away three of my bean plants.

I'm thinking to myself, that the smell alone should do the trick!



I peep through the window, the girls are stacking building blocks.

With a moment to myself.

I take this photo. Inspired by Gardenmama's "Wandering Wednesday".




Then since we are all about getting real and "taking off the layers;)" And our clover patch of a lawn did look so inviting, green, fresh and cool I decided I'd set my feet free.

It felt wonderful!

My un-manicured feet, dewy wet and fully woken now to the day ahead.

Barefoot and happy, I fill a watering can to the brim and take it to our rather sad and limp looking potted tomato plant.



But wherever you find me.... You'll be bound to find these two too close behind.
 "Here Mummy taste dis storeberry,"

Tiny, green strawberry gratefully received and not half eaten already and I am bestowed " a reeealy beeefull flower Mummy.... For your's hair."




The wild flower seeds we planted in the Fairy garden in Spring bring so many butterflies and Bumble bees to our garden! Bug lover Fina inspects.

Those fairies are such good hard working gardeners.






Fina finding a piece of wood to make her own horsey...


And the day beckons.... So off I go too.

Running two steps behind but enjoying the journey.

Beautiful morning to you Friends!

Even dollies need their laundry doing in this house

Maybe I could learn a lesson or two about taking joy in the laundry from them.... 
Yes, Maybe even that :)