appreciation post

I have lots of hobbies and every now and then, a new project sparks my interest. On top of that, I'm constantly shopping and hoarding everything - filling our house and lives with my collections of memorabilia, dresses, ceramic cake stands & tea sets, adopting pets and just creating chaos & making a general (organised) mess.

My husband has been an unwavering support throughout my endeavours, patiently helping me with my recreational pursuits even when he did not share my enthusiasm for certain decisions. Whether it was training our dogs, finding the perfect table to showcase my Victorian dollhouse, or untangling my gold necklace for the umpteenth time, he would handle it for me.

I want to publicly say thank you to the person who picks up the slack so I can explore my interests and chase my dreams - however big, small or unconventional they may be. I appreciate and love you.

dollhouse

I spent my childhood daydreaming about having nice things and a Dollhouse was on top of my wish list. My parents did not buy me one, but my dad worked for a factory that manufactured hospital furniture and he brought home the “faulty” tables for my sister and I to play with.

I improvised by placing a blanket over the table and pretended that it was a caravan. It was a challenge to push it on our carpet floor, so my arms got a great workout. Good times. Maybe I shouldn’t deprive my children of the opportunity to be creative and innovative, and just give them a broken hospital table to play with.

wishful, not willful

Missing is a strange, unpredictable feeling that doesn’t follow any clear logic. I am not always entitled to the things I miss. A bittersweet aspect of maturing is recognising that longing doesn’t necessarily prescribe an action.

I once believed that to address the ache of missing, I needed do something: reach out to the person, visit the place, savour the food, or seek out the clothing I once owned.

Now, I find myself learning to sit with this feeling, uncertain how to engage with it or soothe its presence… 

fall out boy

The tongue is our most handy and powerful organ. We use it to taste, swallow, and speak. It is sensitive, sensual, practical, and destructive. In its beneficial mode, it can lavish praise, deliver engaging presentations, teach, offer insightful advice, provide comfort and support, resolve problems, build friendships, and forge strong bonds.

In its most harsh manner, it can be used to tear us down with disrespectful words, initiate rumours and lies, spread gossip, destroy reputations, and dismantle relationships. The most detrimental use of the tongue is for gossiping. The popularity of the tabloid press confirms the power of gossip and its significant impact on our lives. “It’s just so entertaining,” we say.

I admit to this toxic habit, defending it as harmless fun driven by curiosity or boredom, without malicious intent. However, I have recently realised that gossip is a misdeed not only to those slandered but also to those manipulated in the process. Even if the information shared is true, no one appreciates being talked about, and it is neither kind nor appropriate to discuss someone else’s business.

Words once spoken can never be taken back; they don’t have wings, yet they can fly a thousand miles. Think before you speak. "Words cut deeper than knives. A knife can be pulled out, but words are embedded into our souls." Gossiping never ends well, but it at least tests people’s loyalty, filters out false friends, and reveals who truly supports you.