Heralding in the New Year

Heralding in another New Year so soon?

What happend to this year?

... and last year?

... and the years before that?

Where did the days go?

What have we done in this time?

Why haven't I seen more of you ...

Sat holding your hand a little longer when you are sad

Laughed more joyously at the silly little things we do and say

And enjoyed more of the silence as we breathed our own air?

All these things I vow every January first ...

But somehow they get lost in the melee that is life!

This year will come and go just as fast

And in the end I will lament the same lament!

But know that I am here ...

Sometimes maybe a little more frazzled

Sometimes a little more tired

Sometimes a little less patient ...

But always here ...

I am always here for You! 

Happy New Year to my Darling Girl

May it bring you joy

laughter

health

happiness

and

Lots of time to enjoy it all!

XXX

Lemon, lemóni, limoni

I made my favourite Moroccan lamb and Cous Cous salad the other day and horror of horrors 

- only a quarter of preserved lemon left in the jar!   

Fortunately I had all the ingredients handy -

 very simply,
lemons and rock salt!

 First up - thoroughly sterilize your jar - I use boiling water - and dry well.

 While you are at the sink also wash the lemons in cold water to remove the wax coating and dry.

Now cut the lemons into quarters, leaving about 1 cm uncut at the bottom. 

 

Drop a teaspoon of salt into the centre of each lemon and close
before pushing the lemons as snugly as possible into the jar.  

I use a coffee jar and can easily coerce at least six lemons into it ....
  with a modicum of gentle persuasion of course!

Add another 6 teaspoons of salt into the jar and fill to the brim with fresh lemon juice.  

Make sure the lemons are well covered or else they tend to grow beards!

Seal the jar well and put into a cool dark place for about six weeks. 
Mine lives permanently in the fridge door for easy access and only lasts about six weeks!

Happy Memories of Christmases past

African Christmases as a small child were simple and full of wonder....
It was a time of utter innocence ...
Of feeling sick with excitement days before ...
Of counting down the number of sleeps ...
And of singing our own little  song around the tree on Christmas Eve
... as I still do today

It was the intoxicating aroma of Christmas cakes, mince pies and plum puddings 

coming out of a wood-fire oven 

(I now recognise this as alcohol!)

And the frantic hand-mixing of butter, sugar and brandy until all were white with exhaustion  

...for there was no such thing as electricity.

It's the memory of a Hornby train set running around the garden and being highjacked by the cat 

- to my Brother's utter consternation!

Of a pale blue petticoat to go under a blue dress embroidered with a white poodle 

- lovingly hand-made by Mum

It was the rustling of paper and hushed whispers from the sitting room as presents were wrapped on Christmas Eve ...

It was feeling the pillow slips full of surprises at the end of the bed ...

And endless waiting for the sun to rise on Christmas Day ...

Such magical memories are made with love and by the simples of things.

May we always remember them

And may we create new ones for our own children

With love, simplicity and joy.

Thank you Mum and Dad - you have made me what I am today.

xxx

Make a spectacle of yourself this Christmas!

Wishing you 'spectacular' Christmas

love

Francesca xx

An Aussie Christmas Market

Go early to avoid the heat ....

Look out for home-made goodies lurking in odd places ....

Kewpie dolls prefer to be wrapped in vintage lace ....

Libby's miniature plum puddings laced with brandy are a knock-out - literally!

Emily does not grace us with her presence!

A hot dog finds the perfect spot to watch the world go by ....

And he does pay a fleeting visit ...

Such is an eclectic Aussie Christmas market!

Love it!

The art of oxidisation!

Machinery worn with age looms from the brown earth like giant eagles ....

.... inside aged nuts and bolts sit camera-ready

and outside the cogs in a wheel discolour russet against a clear blue sky.

To replicate,
simply add iron, oxygen and a dash of moisture
and time....

.... lots and lots of time.

The result? 

 ....a peek-a-boo disintegration

.... a delicate corrosion of metals

.... a vibrant oxidisation

.... in a word....
RUST!

© 2012 Francesca Muir

The Architecture of the Arch

Santorini ....

 the epitome of the architecture of the arch

Deftly hanging from the rock face
 

Or lapping at the Aegean  ....

....  often interrupting and softening

.... and challenging the view!

It demands attention

.... creates drama

.... framing from within

 and framing from without!

o

The architecture of the arch ....

.... forms simple lines

.... joyfully plays with light and shade

... and is visually,

such a pleasure!