A Wild Rose and a Cafe

Golly, look at that. Here I am 50 years ago, hanging out with my grandparents Bill & Estelle. Nan was born in 1915, so she would have been about 45 at the time. I wonder if that's the feijoa tree in their Wairoa back garden in the background?

In the early hours of the morning, lying wide awake, listening to the torrentially pouring rain, I wondered what I was going to do, exactly, since I had arranged to meet my special girlfriends at the Wild the Wild Roses Cafe at the centre of Mission View Gardens, the prettiest place I could think of for a birthday; & it's all mainly outside.

But, come the morning light, the rain did stop & the sun returned to dry the garden out.

newly washed & sparkling

such a lovely setting & nicely tucked away out the back of Taradale. Quite easy to get lost trying to find it, ahem...









Gorgeous food!! beautifully presented

pretty china

& great coffee

my yummy frittata..
adored the heart of course!


dear Ruth had been all morning picking plums what better "card" could you wish for..than a plum

We were all in a lovely spot for our lunch just behind here.

My sweetest Cheryl came down all the way from Taupo for the day just for me!

some say that they are camera shy, but I don't know about that

 blending in blue

such a special time... the girls & me
Later, Dad & Bev cooked me a lovely dinner

 including a madeira cake made especially to Nan's perennial birthday cake recipe..yum!

 The power went off for an hour just after the cake went in to the oven..here it is in the background with the candles on it.
The Turkish orange cake for dessert was very delicious indeed. Pop in to the kitchen blog for the recipe.

 How do I feel about turning 50? Kay's card sums it up the best I think:

"Fifty is the FREEDOM to be yourself.
Fifty is INTUITION & IMAGINATION.
Fifty is DREAMING, DARING & DISCOVERING...
Fifty is FANTASTIC.."

 I think I will indeed celebrate this season of my life..probably mostly in the garden.

Here's to a brand new day.

 Thank you so much for all the sweet messages, gorgeous gifts & for being your lovely selves.

 MUCH

XOXOXOXO

Hand Painted and Other Fuzzy Friends

Just in case you hadn't noticed.. I have to say, I am endlessly captivated by butterflies..Monarchs in particular or "Monica's" as Fynn likes to call them. Perhaps it's their not-a-care-in-the-world attitude that I am so drawn to.
Joy taken flight.

 Hope dancing in my garden.
I think that they have been very happy that I planted a buddleia bush over by the back fence as they have been having a wonderful time swooping & dancing around it & feeding from it all through the summer (I wonder where they go to when it rains?)

 They have been happily finding friends

James Browne.net

& mates

& on Friday, in the back garden 

I found this precious one on the grass

something must have been wrong because she let me pick her up & hold her

oh dear little one, whatever is the matter?
she sat in my lap a while

I was wearing a floral skirt that day so I think that she felt quite at home..until there came through the gate a lady calling "hello, hello" & wanting plums & here am I with a butterfly in my lap & a camera in my hand..she didn't seem to grasp the significance of the moment, but that does seem to happen to me a bit, so there was nothing for it but for me & "Monica" to go & find the lady some plums.

She fluttered off gently & landed under "Cecile" allowing me to take some close up & personal shots 

of her lovely self

 and her hand painted wings of glory..can you see the brush strokes? Or are they the fingerprints of the Master Painter?

I wonder if Monica's like Jacaranda's because I certainly do?

They have been so lovely this summer.

It must have been the time for fuzzy friends.. for when I came inside here was a bumble bee trapped in the front room window.

  Very busy, I must say & wildly difficult to capture..

 but so cute & fluffy... I kind of wanted to hug him!

enchanted wings

Have a wonderful carefree week dear ones.

MUCH

XOXO

Wholeheartedly Fussell

Back in the beginning, when dear tif at dottie angel was pondering resolve for the New Shiny Year I too was thinking that making new friends, even of the furry kind, would be a nice thing to do during this year.
*smile often (makes one look younger)
* make a new friend ( a furry or feathered one counts)
... only Fussell beat me to it & made my acquaintance just right there in the week before Christmas.
I really wasn't expecting him, no, not at all. I should have known though, being an angel in the garden sort of person, that the day would come when I would need to face my feathery aaah jitters...what with Charlie lurking behind every bush

& up every tree

and poking his nose in everything

sadly, no wee bird is safe when he's about, especially those that hop on out of their nests too soon.

First came little sparrow. I picked him up in a towel & he sat beside me all the evening while I tappity tapped away right here. Then, quite suddenly he popped up on the edge of the basket & said "thanks so much for having me but I'd better be getting off home now, Mum will be wondering where on earth I've got to"...& promptly flew out the window!

Then came my next feathery encounter, with the arrival of dear Fussell. Up went the alarm a squeaking & a squawking & all manner of birdly fainting..oh CHARLIE! NO!
Where were the little birdie guardian angels!!??  Not watching!

 

 Sleeping even! (borrowed from dear Raia at toile)

So here he was & a what a bustle & a fuss!
His first night was spent in a shoe box, nestled amongst soft towels.
Not knowing quite what to do with him & with Rob gleefully telling me that of course he would wake with the dawn chorus, I did in fact, wake at 5.30!! me!! & crept out in to the living room & with great bleary eyed trepidation took off the lid to find Fussell still alive..so outside we went...
to the break of day

 via we heart it Pollyanna  it felt just like this..& the birdsong...was the most magical sound I have ever heard

I hoped with all my heart, that Fussell would be alright & that maybe his mother would come & find him or a dear ancient soul would take care of him

 James Browne.net

All was well, until later that day, when a great commotion was heard down amidst the rampant raspberries; where we found wee Fussell valiantly evading capture..

 A few weeks earlier Kaitiaki had been very quick to inform me that I needed to get a bird to put in my $5 bird cage, then residing emptily in the Pansy Shed

..so in Fussell went

 his mum came & fed him for 4 days just like this

& we visited him many times a day & cleaned out his cage fastidiously (note his vintage flanelette sheets!

 alas, it was all too much for the wee darling & the day before Christmas eve I heard the sound of bird mourning & he was gone..ohhh Fussell, we tried so hard to help

beyond Fussell

 my daily pursuit of authenticity continues..

(sorry, you'll have to click on this to read it better..it didn't fit any larger)

with the help of kindred spirits like Brene Brown, encouraging, equipping & fortifying women for the journey of wholehearted living.

I really like this bit today.."exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength & struggle & connected to each other through a loving & resilient human spirit..."
So, I can tick that one off..I've made a new feathery friend (even ever so briefly) & I'm so glad he came by my life. Perhaps I'll try a person next time : )
There are always fresh lessons, new experiences & wonders just round the corner...

 I'd never seen doves "grazing" before..til I drove past this gathering a couple of weeks ago.

MUCH

XOXO