A picture of pride

I’ve recently started the very slow process of sorting through our family photos. I’m quite determined to succeed and proudly sped through a few hours of sorting without getting distracted (which is a miracle).

One photo caught my eye though and I snapped a pic on my phone before throwing it in the “kids together” pile. It’s a little shot of my sister and I grinning ear to ear in matching little outfits. I love it because it’s a great image of our cheeky sisterly love but I love it more because it tells a story I’m proud of.

When I was small my family didn’t have much. My parents scrimped for everything they had and worked hard to keep us clothed and fed depsite the odds. My childhood was sunny, fun and happy. I don’t remember being ‘poor’ and I don’t remember going without. To me, we had the world. We had wonderful big trees and bugs galore under every rock outlining our front garden. Us kids had a whole house of our own that we imagined into existence under the tree boughs along the backyard fence. And to top it all off we got to smell the incredible scent of mown grass in the summer evenings and release the heady aroma of lemon as we ceuahed lemon-scented tea tree leaves in our little palms.

My mum made a lot of clothes for us out of love and necessity in equal measures. In the photo below we are wearing gorgeous little overalls made by my mother’s hands.

Sitting on my mum’s living room floor sorting, I turn the photo towards my mum and smile saying “oh aren’t we cute?!” She says proudly “I made those overalls! They’re made from a pink pillow case and a scrap of material. Someone said to me ‘oh that won’t work to mix those fabrics’ but I made them anyway and they lasted ages. You got so much wear out of them!”

I loved how proud she was of that. And I felt proud too. I am lucky enough to call that resilient, resourceful person my mum. I am also lucky enough to have worn such beautiful clothes while I played imaginary houses and made mud pies. I hope my daughter can look back on her childhood with pride and see that I did everything I could to provide for her in the ways she needed.

It’s a really beautiful feeling!



Walk through Sunday moments with me

We wake up in the middle of a cloud that has descended into the valley. Mist all around and above and below. Breakfast is out at a beautiful restaurant. Big wooden benches and a heavy-set table with views out to rain and green paddocks. 

The baby sleeps while we linger on the porch enjoying food, coffee and conversation. The air is gently filling our lungs with clean, cool breaths.

Back at home we move around the house like little dolls. One on the couch, two in the kitchen, one in the study, one on the rug. Then change positions. One sleeping lightly, one in the sun room, one kneading dough, one stoking the fire. Pizzas tonight. 

The rain clears and lets the sun steam the land and bake the verandah. Bees float around happily among the lavender buds and ants scale the little stems. It’s humid outside and puddles reflect the blue sky like mirrors.

There are so many quiet little places in a house. Spots content to stay empty and keep watch over those who wander past. The dough is rising in a warm nook. Mist is rising out of the warm hills. 

The sun is dipping down below the clouds and spilling golden light into the house. I can hear the rustle of dinner preparations. The pizzas will be ready soon. Hot coals wash waves of heat over us and scorch the pizzas in seconds. We huddle together for the last meal of the day.

The sun shines one more broad spotlight through the thick clouds lighting up a crease in the valley. The day draws to a close with a moonless sky.

We drive home along wet roads with highbeams on and yawns permeating the quiet spots in conversation. I click through photos in bed. The fan, jittering side to side, blows air gently over my bare legs as I type this last sentence and begin the upload of pictures for you to walk through below.

Hope you’ve enjoyed glimpses some Sunday moments with me.

Tiny Heid, illustrious author

Enjoy these stories written by 7yr old me.

Note: Drawings by 31yr old me. Spelling and grammar as per original copy.

The Triple Eyed Monster

There once was a monster he was triple eyed.

He was a sad monster even thowe he was friendley but he looked VERY scary. Everyone teased him because of his three eyes.

One day he went to the wized and asked him for only two eyes. The wized said that it is inposebl but he said he’d try.

So the following day the triple eyed monster met the wized on his morning stroll. Have you found a cure he said. Yes said the wized, Just drink this strawberry flaved milk.

The monster drank a little bit then in a flash there was his two perfect humen eyes. So he was never teased again and he lived hapily ever after.

The end. By Heidi.



One day Snail went for a walk in the park. It was spring, his favrite season and allso it was hot he was ROASTING so he went back home.

First he had a cool drink with ice blocks in it then a fuzzy man apeared who are you an ALIEN FROM SPACE. He said to himself im just dreaming.

The End.


What Dinosaurs Do

What do you think dinosaurs do?

My dinosaur studdies maths he’s never got an A+. BUT this time he got one because I helped him he donsent even know what 1+1 is.

But he’s always fat! do you want to know a secret!! he eats spuds!!! ooh yuck!



Dreamy moments: PetRox

I’m a bit of a dreamer.

When I was small I loved coming up with interesting ideas for my future jobs or pursuits. My imagination was pretty wild and wooly so I rarely followed through with my hair-brained ideas. To this day I’m often coming up with weird and wonderful ideas for my future self. Thought I’d share some of my quirky little ideas I’ve dreamt up over time and here’s the first… PetRox.

I love craft and was dreaming about how I could put my creative juice into a project that could make some pocket money. My idea was a small business called PetRox. I remember thinking the ‘x’ in ‘Rox’ was really cool. I had a pet rock growing up and thought it was awesome. I now planned to share the awesomeness by creating a collection of pet rock characters that I would sell complete with their own unique ‘houses’ made from small boxes. Each rock character would have a name and backstory and would be lovingly hand-painted and googly-eyed by me. I even created some prototypes (shown below). Unfortunately I don’t remember their names or house concepts. But seriously, just check out that monacle and kilt…

I felt the idea had so much potential and dreamt of my Etsy store and what it would look like. I wondered what custom orders would come in or whether I would share stories of successfully ‘adopted’ pets in a “where are they now?” section of my website. Maybe the pet rocks would travel the world or build an extension on their box house. Maybe I could sell pet rock kits for keen DIYers. The possibilities seemed endless.

And I’ve got to say I still think it was a cute idea. What do you think? Could PetRox take off and form a stony empire? Would you buy a pet rock?


The Pillow Thing

There are heaps of things I think about way too much. One of these things is my pillow. Specifically, the Pillow Thing. It’s a little trick I use to make an ordinary pillow more comfy.

I have lovingly created this weird drawing of what the Pillow Thing looks like in action – you’re welcome.


Basically, you scrunch the pillow down to your shoulders so it sits under the back of your neck and tips your head into a more natural position. I swear this trick has come in handy with old pillows that have lost their ‘puff’ and helped ensure a good night’s sleep in hotels and guest bedrooms. I also find it’s great if you have a tension headache.

And yes, I wrote a whole blog post about this because YOLO. Wait, do the kids even say that anymore?

Rain rain don’t go away

Some good soaking rain has come across in late summer and it’s delicious! The hot, humid weather has been relentless lately and the nights have felt far too warm. A rainy day is long overdue.

There are so many things I love about rain. I feel like I could write a thick book on the way it makes me feel. As it sweeps across the earth it brings life and cleanses everything it pours over. It smells incredible, filling my lungs with potent oxygen. And the rain comes in so many forms that each shower, stormy downpour, drizzle and gentle soak brings a unique mood to the moment.

This summer rain brought with it the magic of a new kind of moment – the experience of seeing tiny drops of cool water scatter across the milky skin of my little one. Her rain story has only just begun. I wonder what memories and feelings the rain will bring to her.

Musings on the Flatty

When I read  this article by Dom Knight I giggled along with him about the meaning of different coffee orders.

My coffee order is the super simple, super delicious Flatty. I can’t remember why I started ordering Flat Whites but now, I rarely order anything else. When I was working full time I sometimes grabbed a Piccolo in the afternoon as a pick me up without the milk but if someone asked “what’s your coffee order?” I’d reply proudly “Flat White”.

I feel like a Flat White is the perfect coffee. The perfect balance between coffee and milk. No faff or snobbery. It’s the honest to goodness order of champions! Everything else seems to pale in comparison.

I won’t speculate here on what your coffee order says about you. I just wanted to make it known how much I love my Flat White and how strangely proud I feel when ordering one. It’s the coffee order for the solid, reliable, coffee-loving gal. It’s no fuss. No one will look at you with a smirk and think “what a wanker”. No one will snigger and think “she doesn’t know sh*t about coffee”. Maybe it’s the order for the self-conscious. Whatever it is, I have a real fondness for the guy. Is he a Ristretto? A Long Black? A Latte? Or a half double decaffeinated half-caf with a twist of lemon? NO! He’s Flatty! Super duper delicious Flat White. And with a review like that, you gotta love him!

Happy sippin’ 🙂


Triple threat | part of the ‘toast mastered’ series

I have to say that when it comes to toast toppings you can rarely beat a good butter/vegemite combo. But in my opinion the single best topping combo for toast is a killer triple threat I created. You should try it and thank me later.

First add your favourite peanut butter (mine’s crunchy). Next it’s banana time – slice it up and add a layer on top of your peanut butter. Last but not least is honey. Drizzle that golden goo all over the top. For bonus points, throw a few chia seeds around.

So basically the formula is:

Butter + peanut butter + banana + honey + chia = YUM

I should start calling it “the ole PBH”. Yeah, I think I might.

To the edge | part of the ‘toast mastered’ series

A wise man once said “One must always butter thy toast to the edges.”

Well that’s not entirely true but if you replace the words “wise man” with “my mum” then we’re spot back on the truth.

There is ‘making toast’ and then there is ‘making toast’. My mum preached a daily message regarding the latter. Growing up I thought every mum must evangelise heartily about the right way to do things like ironing, folding, walking and making toast but I have since found that is not the case and that I am a born-again convert of a very small, specific way of life when it comes to the little things. Case in point – toast. 

As such, I have decided to begin a series about toast. Yes. A series. The first instalment is simply the following:

Buttering your toast to the edges will change your life for the better. 

Not only will the taste of your toppings be amplified but you will be able to happily savour every last little bit of your slice without copping a sad dry crust or a bald patch on your bread. 

Think of butter being solid rock and lack-of-butter being sand. Now which would you build your house on? You need a strong, superior foundation people! Butter is the cement slab of your toasty dreams. The picnic rug to your picnic. The thongs between you and the scorching pavement in summer. It simply MUST be spread to the very edges. There are no two ways about it. 

More on toast later.

Crow’s feet

At 31 I am one of those people who never seem to age. I look surprisingly similar and almost certainly as awkward as I did when I was 12. I’ve always taken this for granted.

This year I became a mum and last week I took a photo of myself, aforementioned bebe and the Mr all happily smooshed together with big smiles all round. The photo is super cute – it’s a given now we have a little one – but something seemed a little strange when I first saw the family snap. I’ve changed.

It sounds tres dramatic but, for the first time, I really felt like I looked different… specifically, I looked older. On each side of my face are brand new spindly crow’s feet. They sprout proudly outwards towards my temples with not so much as a “may we sit here please?”. If they were the new kids in school, I’m sure I would have shown healthy hesitation if they came my way looking for a spot to eat their lunch.

I mean, since when did my face look so worn? So tired and wrinkly and mum-ish? Apparently since NOW. I’m not sure how they got there exactly. Well, I could take a guess… night feeds, car crying episodes, peer pressure and information-overload-induced panic…

But seriously. I really have changed. Those toothpickish toes are scratching away at my youth. I don’t know how I feel about that. I keep smiling in the mirror so I can see them again. I hope they don’t get the wrong idea. I feel sad, not happy. Should I feel happy? Happy that I have great reasons for the crows to land on my head? Well, I’m sick of hearing “should” at the moment so I’m going with “I can feel sad about this.”

Now, where is that moisturiser?