Special things

I wrote once, quite a while ago, of the dream I had of my life before I got to live it. This year I slowly sewed that dream together. Then I ripped the stitches apart, or the sewing machine broke; I'm not sure what analogy fits best. Now I am stitching again.

And here is a little scene from my domestic dream made real. The beautiful flowers were from a lovely friend, but due to my pause-from-life kidney infection no one watered them. They are now crisp as a, well, crisp. But they live on in this picture! And here is the kitchen table with the highchair, just as I imagined it (though not, sadly, old and oak). And, most importantly of all, the drawing being made by my yellow-obsessed (notice the drink) Little One.

He is two-and-a-half now. Babyhood behind, and at the moment the two littlest ones are in the grips of a nasty cold. But this picture reminds me of a happier time, just a few weeks ago. His drawings are nothing remarkable, but to me they look so clever, so beautiful. I loved to draw as a child, and I hope that love will make it through to my littlest boys.

Right now, the domesticity has to be eschewed for the domestic: the tumble drier is beeping insistently at me. Bottles need sterilising. Bed is calling. Floors need quickly clearing. But I thought I would write this first and remember that moment. Perhaps we will live it again tomorrow or, at least, when the stinking colds go away.