Letterbox surprises

It would be someone quite peculiar that said they didn't like getting mail. I love it. (Apart from bills. They can go straight back from whence they came thank you very much). So you can image my delight when a lovely silky enevelope with my name hand written on it arrived last week.



Michaela and Leon had thoughtfully sent me a thankyou card. I'm so chuffed. I ask absolutely nothing from my couples, just that they have a wonderful wedding day. So to get a card in the mail means so much to me. It means so much that they've taken the time to write me a note to say thanks, when no thanks is required at all.

And of course I love their card, because it's got my photos plastered all over it.
It's the perfect use of my photos really. They're being lived and loved, as they ought to be. Not just shoved in a draw only to be looked at on special occasions. Can you tell I'm one of those 'use the good china all the time' kind of girls?



And inside theirs a little magnet that's now on my fridge quoting one of their favourite Leunig poems.


I also like finding out what couples are up to, once their wedding day has come and gone and their new life together is in full swing. Michaela and Leon have just bought their first house, and next time I'm up in Shepparton I'll have to pop in and have a look.

In completely unrelated, and utterly indulgent news, I've re-arranged my bookcase. Why do I love it so? Because I've colour co-ordinated it. I've got the whole colour spectrum thing going on now.




It's beautiful, and I look at it all. the. time. There's not much beauty going on in my house (it's a rental, and it's from the 70's. Need I say more?) So to have this burst of colour really lifts the mood of the place.



And who would have thought that so many books had red covers?

*Meaghan

What I'm watching: United States of Tara (check out the opening credits)

A date with tea and jam

On the weekend I had the very sweet pleasure of finally meeting two people I've 'known' for awhile. When I say known, I mean we've been online buddies through our various photography connections for ages.

It was wonderful, so wonderful to finally meet Kate and Nathan Vale in person. Kate and Nathan run the splendidly named Tea and Jam Photography. To hear what their voices sound like, to put together all the photos I've seen of them, and by them, into what I saw before me, was an absolute joy.

Kate and Nathan and their sweetie pies Maya and Pepper, were in Torquay to catch some much needed sun (they come from Ballarat which is notorious for it's cold cold winters), so we met up. Kate and I talked family, private schools, and crazy weddings in Shepparton orchards. Nathan and I chatted photos, lenses, and the challenge of photographing children.



Of course, I had to take them to the daffodil field that's near by. A photographer's delight! I could see Nathan's eyes darting this way and that working out the best way to capture the mass of yellow.



Maya wandered about grandly amoungst the flowers, with my little Miles following close behind.





I feel something Alice in Wonderlandy in this one. You know the bit where Alice visits the singing flowers?




Nathan doing what he does best.



Go and check out Nathan and Kate's blog for Nathan's photos from our play in the field. Especially the last one of Miles. I'm dying to have it hanging on my wall.

* Meaghan

What I'm reading: back issues of Dumbo Feather, Pass It On
What I'm lisetning to: You Really Got a Hold On Me cover version by She and Him

A beach by any other name

My beach isn't bright yellow sand and incandescent blue skies.
It's not stinging sunburn.
It's not frolicking in the waves wearing skimpy lycra.
It's not beach cricket, and it's certainly not sun baking.
It's not warm, not embracing, not relaxing.



My beach is dark, and grey, and difficult.
It's tumultuous, and aloof, and always windy.
It's people wearing long coats as they walk their dogs.
It's driftwood, and lone surfers perched on their surfboards far from shore.
It's a foggy horizon, a bleak shore line, and sand not marked by any other footprint.

It's my beach, and it's my home.

*Meaghan

What I'm reading: The Memory Room by Christopher Koch
What I'm listening to: Day trotter session - Whitely

Is that really a field of daffodils?

Yes, it sure is.

And it was pure bliss.

The fragrance rushed up and hugged us hello as we stepped out of the car. There they were, lined up in particular rows, just waiting to be adored.



And adore we did. The boys and I, as well as my friend Anna and her cherubs, smelled our way up and down the beautiful rows.





When I was a uni student I lived in Richmond for awhile, and every Saturday I would walk down to the market near the park and buy myself a bunch of flowers. The little old Ukrainian man who owned the stall spoke little English when I started buying flowers from him. It was a lot of pointing and nodding and smiling going on between us. Over time his English skills got better and better. He started to add little snippets to our exchange such as 'no worries' when I thanked him for my enormous bunch of irises. Then one day I was there and he actually said to me 'nice hat' and pointed to the felted cap I was wearing. I loved my flowers, but I think I loved the Ukrainian flower seller just as much.

Can you spot little Ebba hiding?





The flowers brought pure joy to the kids. They absolutely loved it. It was wonderful to see them smile and play and giggle. Fall down and get back up again. Point and laugh and laugh some more.




My most favourite photo from the day.



Off now to buy myself some flowers for my house. Bring some spring to my dreary winter decor.

* Meaghan