About Me

Perth, WA, Australia
Hi friends. To those I have met in person and the many I haven't - welcome to our nest. Thanks so much for stopping by. I am a mama of six baby birds and wife to one papa bird. Our nest is an intricately woven home, crafted over time, through the highs and lows of life, and many in-betweens. We are soon to leave our Australian nest to re-locate to our second home, the UK. This is our story, of our new life in a new country, the trials and tribulations, bidding goodbye to precious friends and embracing new. I know at times, our wings will be flapping so hard to keep us moving forward that we will tire, however, a little perseverence will bring effortless gliding amongst a soft breeze, and even stronger wings for the journey ahead. Welcome to our flight......

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Fly to the Moon


'Oh that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest -
I would flee far away
And stay in the desert.
I would hurry to my place of shelter
Far from the tempest and the storm'.
(Psalm 55: 6-8)


Children often speak of having wings to take flight.

For girls they are in the form of delicate, fairy wings, usually pink - most often sparkly. Our number four child can be seen flitting around the house, her feet sounding like a thousand horses hooves. 'Mummy', she pants, 'I am a fairy! My name is Susan and I am flying'. Susan the fairy has a lot of flying practice to do, particularly in grace and form.

Then there are the boys.
They fly too, but usually to their mother-ship, taking with them their captive agents to be destroyed and eliminated from the force.
At other times, it is a quick trip to the moon to check all is well with the universe and to clock up extra mileage on their rocket booster in order to avoid federal gains tax on their leased fleet. The jaunt usually includes partaking of sugary treats prior to take off. Don't you know that eating a muffin can be tricky whilst floating upside down?

Babies attempt flying too.
Ours have been having a go from the dizzying heights of our lounge onto the tiled floor. Over the back of the lounge is currently under negotiation. Fatty twin two having reservations about the impact from drop to cold hard floor on her limbs.
Beds are also fair go with the much softer carpet landing. Great squeals of delight can be heard from our bedroom as the twins bungee jump over the edge, only to be caught by their feet right before carpet meets skull.

Then there is the teenager.
She is also attracted to air-borne activity. Ours enjoys the trampoline with the protective mesh around the perimeter, thank goodness, otherwise I am sure she would end up on the neighbor's roof or crashing into their living room. 'Oops, sorry, was that a bit high'?

Now to adults. Some of us like to fly in real terms - planes, parachuting, helicopters and the like. But women, mostly, seem to want to fly away - as in escape. To remove themselves from their current routines, their over-scheduled days and pressing responsibilities. What busy mother has not passed by a travel agent's window and cast her eyes on a calm and peaceful tropical beach scene, sighing inwardly and wishing she could mould herself onto that paper right there and then? She can imagine bathing in the soft, warm rays, cock-tail in hand, feet massaged, eyes closed.
Or alternatively, who hasn't glanced at the opportunity of winning an all-expenses-paid holiday, flying first-class, with five star accommodation, with no cooking or cleaning thrown in, and experienced a pang of longing?
And, why do we sit in a darkened movie theatre and watch scenes of someone else's life unfold before our eyes? Escapism.

Just like the Psalmist wrote, 'Oh that I had the wings of a dove!' Yes, indeed, I quite fancy a bit of soaring above the clouds today and should I land on a tropical, deserted beach, not to worry, I will indeed cope. I love coconuts!

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