On grieving and apricots.

I've been watching this apricot tree since we first moved in. It had only just started blossoming then, taking a little while to get itself going. We all said it probably wasn't going to be a good year. As Spring moved toward Summer, fruit started appearing. They were small, hard and a greenish yellow that looked less than appealing. We waited for them to ripen but they fell to the ground instead, much to the delight of our adopted lamb. It wasn't looking like a good year for apricots.

Around New Years Eve, I was lying in bed and could hear the birds outside my window going nuts. I hadn't looked at the apricot tree for awhile so I spun myself around on the bed to be facing the wrong way up (and the right way up for optimal tree watching) and saw that not only was the tree full of birds, but also juicy looking golden fruit. The birds were having the most raucous feast on the now ripe fruit, there were tui and blackbirds, fantails and mynahs, and of course a few sparrows, all flitting in and out of the leaves gorging themselves on apricots. I watched for awhile before grabbing my camera but sadly they didn't want to stick around for photos. Still, the orange and green next to the dark, dark branches in these photos are so beautiful and fresh looking that I've been staring at them almost as much as the tree I've come to love now that the fruit is gone. 

For all my crunchy tendencies, I'm not one to really anthropomorphize nature despite respecting it. But, for whatever reason the apricot tree waited until 2012 was on it's way out before deciding to burst with fruit. I guess it wasn't a great year for apricots, but once we decided to leave it to the birds I'm sure they'd disagree. 

It seems like 2012 has been one that many people were glad to see the back of. Waiting for the New Year felt like waiting for time to literally reset itself. I know that there's nothing magic in the start of a new year but there was something in me telling me that if we could just get past December, just get to the end, things might start to be alright. We could lock 2012 away and triumph in the fact that we were still here. It was like, this is when you'll be able to breathe again, you'll be able to say 'It's ok. We made it.'. Just one more day, keep holding on and see this ride 'till it's end. You can do it.

Grief is such a strange beast. One that I was confident that I understood but now know that I have no idea. It's all about waves and all about surprise. It sneaks up on you at the most mundane times and you just have to ride it out. I'm sure it's different for everyone, but I needed that perhaps mythical end point that enabled me to take a breath again. Unexpectedly, things have gotten harder since taking that breath but in a weird way that makes me feel better. I feel like things might start to be processed now, that exhaling has pulled back the curtain a crack that was hiding Tynesha from me and now that I'm breathing again it will do so a little more each day. Even though it hurts like nothing else, feeling it and breathing is so much better than holding my breath and waiting.

I've made some resolutions for this year, that I'll share maybe a bit later. I spent New Years Eve in bed with a stomach bug (figures), but I was watching The Wire and took some time with Richard to reflect on the year past and plan for the one ahead. I became a fully registered teacher last year, and worked really hard to do so. More than that, teaching at Papakura and working with some amazing colleagues was the challenge and inspiration that has shown me the teacher I can be, and who I want to be. We spent the year with our dear friends. Living with some of them, picnicking, going to the art gallery, laughing and crying with others. They were so much of our support in our move home and made the trek themselves to be with us when T went. 

Most of all, I was lucky enough to spend some of the sweetest of days with Miss Tynesha Rose. What an incredible gift. I miss that girl, so very much, and I miss her and I together. Things won't ever be the same, but that doesn't mean they won't be alright. If you could talk to the birds in the apricot tree, they'll tell you the same thing. Things don't always go according to plan, and it hurts and you might get angry and cry or feel like you've missed out and have lost something. Life carries on though, someone will pick up where you left off and a new normal will show itself. Maybe it's the birds turn for delicious fruit this time around. You might not like it, but your new normal will start to appear. And, it will be ok. We will be ok.

A lil' holiday sale.

Happy holidays, friends! I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and are enjoying a bit of a relaxing break. We had a fairly low key day, which was perfect. Lots of delicious food, cider, sunshine and a wild game of Cranium late in the evening which lead to tear-filled laughter and me trying to do a convincing 'blue steel'. It was pretty great!

As a little holiday treat for you all, we're offering 30% off everything in the shop until January 2nd. Just enter 'BOXINGWEEK' at the checkout to grab your discount. We'll be closing up for a few days after the sale ends to tidy up a bit and release our new jewellery collection (more on that later). We'll also be having a special Facebook sale around then to clear a bunch of stuff out, so make sure to head over there and like us if you haven't already.

Have the best New Years!
x

To market.

I made this little save the date card awhile ago, and while the top date has now passed I like it so much that I don't want to have to make a new one! I'm hoping we'll add a few more local dates, but these are the major ones and I'm really looking forward to trying out some new fairs that I've heard really great things about.

We had our first market since moving a few weeks ago, Wine and Design held at the beautiful Church Road Cellar Door (yes, that is a wine glass you can see balancing behind our jewellery display...) and it was so much fun! We met some really lovely people and I bought the most delicious smelling coconut and lime candle that has gotten a lot of use since we brought it home.

If you're in the areas/s (Hastings & Greytown) please come and stop by! I'll pop the info and links in the side bar.

One day at a time.

Almost two weeks ago, on the morning of October 29th we lost our sweet girl, Miss Tynesha Rose. She was at home, surrounded by her favourite people and in the restful and pain-free sleep that we had all been hoping and praying she would finally be able to have. We were all lucky enough to be able to sit with her and kiss her as much as we liked during those last few days of sleep, and after she was gone we took turns holding her wrapped up in her warm quilt.

Her funeral was not quite a week later, and in lots of ways it feels like time has sped forward or skipped a beat in order for us to be able to deal with it. The days in the lead up to her funeral were so heartbreaking, and then it is almost as if I've gone a bit numb. Like we're all just waiting for her to wake up. I guess our brains want to self preserve so perhaps will only give us little bits of grief as we can handle it. I'm not sure. I'd always kind of scoffed at the cliche of 'one day at a time', but now I know so well that it is the only thing to be counted on.

Thank you so much for all your kind messages during this time, it has meant the world.

xx