Love Without Expectation

Today I love: finding beauty in the most unexpected of places.

Ironically, I always seem to find hearts on floors… 
I wonder what that's all about?

To join in Much Love Monday, simply do a blog post that includes
a picture of a heart and mention something you love and link up to 
Anna's Much Love blog.


❤ Wishing you a week full of serendipitous love xox

Faded Memories

Ever since I was a little girl I've felt drawn to and fascinated by old and derelict dwellings.

I would peer into the dusty windows of old corner shops and abandoned houses wondering what former life these neglected buildings once led.

Forgotten and forlorn… but not by me.

I could daydream for hours about what they must have looked like in their former glory.
I loved to imagine who once owned them, lived in them, grew up in them, what kind of things the shops would sell and who the people were who once shopped there.

When I look at an old building I don't just see the cracked and faded paint, dilapidated walls and ceilings or grubby grime stained windows - I see through the dirty facade and wonder at the beauty that once was as well as foolishly hoping that one day it will be restored once again.

I still feel sad when I drive past the empty lot of what once was a house straight out of my dreams.
The run down American country style house was exactly the kind I envisioned when reading so many of my mystery novels as a young girl.
For years it stood there neglected and overrun with vines yet throughout my teens and early twenties I would pass by it and fantasise of one day buying it and restoring it to the home it once was.
Silly that I would still feel cheated somehow by the demolition of that place, since I always knew I could never afford to buy it let alone restore it.
Still I can't help feeling regretful every time I think of it or pass by where it once stood…

Broken but not beaten, full of character, strength and with many stories to tell, sometimes I wish that walls could talk. Don't you?

Fiddledy figs!

Found via: www.coeurdela.com 
which also led me to a delicious looking fig jam recipe.
That's definitely going on my to-do-list.

It's no secret how much I love figs.

All sorts, raw, baked, preserved you name it… 

if it's fig related I'll eat it.

But one of my most loved ways of enjoying them

(besides hunking into them fresh from the tree)

is baked in honey and served with Ice Cream.

Deeeelish!

Sharing the recipe over with Anna & co @ Much Love.

First prep your figs;

wash, dry and rub a little oil on them before placing them

in a baking pan, stem side up.

Cut a cross in the top of each fig, cutting almost to the bottom

then drizzle with a few teaspoons of honey.

Top each one with a piece of butter.

Bake the figs in an oven at 200℃ 

till they open up like flowers (around 8-10mins).

Put the figs on plates to serve.

Add a teaspoon of water to the pan and return to the oven for 1 min, 

then stir to make a sauce.

Drizzle the syrup over the warm figs and serve with ice cream on top or to the side.

Dig in and enjoy!

Bon Appétit. 

Much Love Beauty

via: pretty cure

So I'm a day late joining in this week but as one lovely reader pointed out a while ago, I'm sure it's still Monday somewhere in the world right now…

This Tuesday/Monday/this whole week in fact, I'm Much Loving that it's only one more day till our four day Easter break!

Not sure what I'll do with myself but I'm sure I'll manage to fill my time with plenty of
aimless wandering.

Second thing I'm loving is playing with all my goodies from the Salon Melbourne expo.

I scored myself 20 pairs of assorted Lash Republic false lashes (enough for a lifetime but they were so cheap!), some Vani-T spray tan samples, TK's lash extension effect mascara, a score of new Shellac colours and make up galore just to name a few.

But the one thing I think I'll  be gushing about till the end of days is my brush with celebrity make up artist Rae Morris.

Standing at her stall perusing the exquisite quality of her hand crafted & eco friendly brushes (Mac-shmak!) I could feel her eyes taking me in.

When I looked up and caught her she laughed and said "sorry, I couldn't help staring but your eye make up is gorgeous." Then addressing the crowd she said "see ladies? This is a perfect example of precision eyeliner application."

OMG, joy of joys!!! (can you tell I have a teeny tiny crush?)

Next year I'll HAVE to indulge in one of her workshops but just speaking with her at her stand was enough to make me fall in love with her all over again.

After 10 years in the beauty industry I'm glad I can say my passion is still as strong as ever.

You can teach a student a lesson for a day; but if you can teach him to learn by creating curiosity, he will continue the learning process as long as he lives. 
~Clay P. Bedford

HyperActive

There just aren't enough harps being played in music these days…

Wow - What a day!
It took me a solid hour to make what should've been a 15min trip into the city for the Melbourne Hair & Beauty Expo.
Stupid Nav Man kept taking me along the longest route and losing satellite reception that, compounded with my airy fairy headspace, had me making wrong turns and missing turn offs left, right and centre.

Thought I'd be clever and chose the cheapest car park miles away from the Exhibition Centre resulting in a walk across the bridge, two blocks away and up a flight of stairs. More to see and snap along the way, I figured. Except I was running late - no time for ambling…

Spent 4 hours bouncing excitedly from stall to stall, blinded by all the pretty shinny things on offer.
(Did not foresee that I would spend a lazy 500 smackaroonies on beauty buys as well as a 12kg box of wax. Suddenly it dawned on me how incredibly far my car was parked.)

Lugged my loot most of the way before my arms and back gave out at the car park. I had no choice but to tuck my stash in a discreet hiding place for later retrieval…
And not a single good samaritan in sight! (hubby reckons taking off my wedding rings might've got me a helping hand. How rude!)

I wish I'd had the foresight to be there a little earlier and take some shots of the docks and the beautiful Polly Woodside residing there.
Never mind, chalking it up to experience - it was my first time after all and I did manage to score a major haul so all was not lost.

This album helped keep me calm along the way.

Well, there's always next time… and next time you can bet I'll be prepared.

Complete with trolly and credit card in tow ;o)

Sharing the tale with everyone over at

Thea's Sunday Session.

The Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak 

at the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth

and spoke of the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time

that she spent alive on earth

and now only those who loved her

know what that little line was worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,

the cars,

the house,

the cash,

what matters is how we live and love

and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard;

Are there things you'd like to change?

For you never know how much time is left

that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down long enough

to consider what's true and real

And always try to understand

the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger

and show appreciation more

and love the people in our lives

like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect

and more often wear a smile,

remembering that this special dash

might only last a while.

So when your eulogy is being read

with your life's actions to rehash

Would you be proud of the things they say

and how you spent your dash?

~Linda Ellis

Just Breathe

Take a deep breath in. Hold.

Take another bit in. Hold.

Exhale 50%. Hold.

Breathe in. Hold.

Exhale a bit. Hold.

Now try to breathe deep. Hold.

That has been my pattern. That has been my breath.

An overwhelming combination of drowning and suffocation.

An overbearing heaviness that weighs down on my heart and chest.

A relentless cycle of sighing and then the inability to draw in anywhere near enough air, like a blanket of doom that has cloaked my heart and lungs for more than a week now.

48hrs before that fateful day it's as though I knew something was about to go terribly wrong.

I've struggled with the decision to write about this most personal of personal events.

Grief & Death. 

While they're an inevitable part of life, some would say the only thing that is guaranteed, the line is fine as to what constitutes honouring a memory here and whether sharing such a deeply private moment is even appropriate. Especially somewhere as faceless and often fickle as the online world.

Surely the loss of a loved one is more complex and worthy of a better sound board than a mere Facebook status?

Not knowing when or how to move on I simply shied away.

I wanted to acknowledge what happened but I didn't want to seem tasteless or tacky in my approach.

I would have much preferred to pretend it didn't happen, to go on as if everything was alright.

But it wasn't and I couldn't.

So I did the next best thing.

Retreat.

Until today.

I know for a fact that the only thing she would hate more than having to leave us is knowing we weren't coping or moving on.

So since this blog is a space of mine to record all things both frivolous and intense in my life, I feel it's only right to acknowledge my darkness first before I can feel comfortable again in my light.

On March 20th heaven took it's angel back as without a doubt this beautiful lady truly was a saint on Earth.

She was the light in so many peoples lives.

She had a warmth that could radiate through to the coldest of hearts.

She brought comfort and love to all who were blessed to be in her divine presence.

Words cannot come close to describing her generosity, her kindness and love. Even though it's an understatement, it is safe to say she was an exceptional woman.

Having lost my Grandfather and only living grandparent at age 12, I would never have known the love of a Grandmother had it not been for this angelic of souls.

I thought I had found my soul mate when I met my husband but little did I know I would gain a second family as well.

Most importantly I received something I had never before known -
the tender relationship between a young woman and her grandmother, for I always felt like she was mine and I hers.

She always had a smile and a twinkle in her eye for me followed by a kiss, a soft hug and unconditional love.

From the first day I met her all those 12 years ago I felt enveloped by the love in her heart.

I knew, even then, that in her eyes I was special the way only a grandmother could believe her granddaughter to be.

I was very lucky to have known her, to have been loved by her and to have the honour of holding these memories of her in my heart.

While I couldn't be there in her final hours I can only hope to have brought her some comfort in her final days.

She always called me her angel but I know it is her who will forever more be my guardian angel.

Every day my breath gets a little less laboured.
Each day it feels slightly easier to breathe.

Just Breathe.

It's become my mantra.

Just Breathe…