makar [ˈmækər]
n (Literature / Poetry) Scot a creative artist, esp a poet
[a Scot variant of maker]

Tuesday, August 30, 2011



While one slept and the other chatted away and played with play-dough, I read this article. I'd been dreading it and, as anticipated, it made me both mad and sad. I might not know very much about child prodigies or the contemporary art market, but I believe that children should be allowed to be children. While creative expression is something to be celebrated, cherished and nurtured, I don't believe any good can come from turning a child into a commodity or applying unnecessary labels that confine or limit a child's freedom to discover all that they are. A famous artist at 4? Where do you go from there?

Wednesday, August 24, 2011





I have this fantasy that if I could just be a little bit more organised, life would be so much easier. There wouldn't be those desperate "what on earth are we going to have for dinner?" moments, or the agonising wait for the next bus because I didn't quite get around to reading the timetable before we left the house, or the "I have nothing to wear" meltdowns (mine) because, apart from the two outfits that need washing, I really don't have anything that matches, fits, or really suits me. Yes, I am impulsive and messy, and I seem to have created equally messy and impulsive children (perhaps all children are messy and impulsive, I don't know...). When they want to do something, they want to do it NOW, and when they're ready to move on, they don't let something like clearing up, slow them down. You choose your battles after all, and I've always been a little obsessed with letting them express themselves. Anyway, some of the most interesting and creative, not to mention fun places, I've worked have also been the most messy and disorganised. These were also the places where I spent days looking for lost artwork and many frustrating months trying to crisis-manage the tangles created by chaotic personalities. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that my house (and my life) might be messy and disorganised, but I'm hoping something will be gained from this jumble. If I had everything micro-managed and neatly filed, then I don't think there could be so many magic moments, or so much creativity. I've always been good in a crisis and we certainly have many of those every day. It's possible they bring out the best in me.

Thursday, August 18, 2011



A moment to chuckle about: My nearly two year old trying to take a photograph of the tiny snail that they found in the garden, and saying: "Say Gorgonzola, little snail." Suffice to say he hasn't quite worked out how to use the camera yet. The snail? Well, he was last seen on the kitchen table - I'm yet to discover where he went next...

Monday, August 8, 2011



To whoever paid that woman in the cafe, to ask if I was the nanny and then to proclaim me very young to be the mother of two children, thank you. I really, really needed that today. ; )

Friday, August 5, 2011


{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Inspired by Soulemama

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


Yesterday, I got to hold my lovely neighbour's beautiful one-day old baby boy. He is 22 months younger than his big sister, exactly the same age gap as that between my two. His sister is the same age as my youngest, which has made me realise that my "baby" is really not one anymore. I guess younger children always do remain the baby of the family, but perhaps I have been holding my son back in an attempt to preserve all those delightful babyish qualities. The fact that he is still breastfeeding plays a major part in this, but there are also other things that I have neglected to do for him, which would enable him to be more independent. For example, I realised that by his age my daughter was selecting her own clothes, something that caused some strife between us, especially when she insisted on summer dresses in the middle of winter. I was thinking isn't that strange, maybe it's because he's a boy... when it occured to me that the reason he doesn't dress himself, is because he doesn't have easy access to his clothes. With my daughter, I was in such a hurry for her to grow up, to reach the next milestone, that I was always one step (or chapter in the book) ahead, but with my youngest, the opposite is true: I want to slow it all down. But, he is growing up fast. His language has recently taken a massive jump forward and he is now constructing whole sentences: "Where is [Postman Pat's) van?"; "I am fireman"; "Cat's missing".

I guess it's time to let go a little, tiny, teeny bit more, and move his clothes out of my wardroble and into one of his own.

Monday, August 1, 2011

This time, I decided we were all going, so a three-day conference became an eight-day holiday, providing some much needed respite from the dreary winter and the endless colds. The next few months will need to be thrifty ones, but oh was it worth it! Must remember next time though that night flights are a bad, bad idea, especially when you land at 4am and don't really have anywhere to go...We "slept" in the car and watched the sun come up, but it certainly wasn't ideal!
Now, it's back to reality, back to the tax return. Sigh.









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