Because there are few things we can be sure of….

Time to wake up!!

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Middlemost Cottage (Part One)


This is the tale of Middlemost Cottage. You may find it hard to believe, unlikely or pure fantasy; that is your prerogative. I am telling it to you because I fear that the story will die with me. Before my faculties totally desert me, I shall try to explain Middlemost and how I fell under her spell.

Being rather easily tired these past few months, I shall write a little when the light and arthritis allow. I beg your indulgence as I stumble through the account that follows.

Let’s begin at the beginning.

This is where the story starts as far as records go. I reproduce them below to allow you to see what was written by better educated men than I.

Further, three miles northwards, having left Wilson at Rhine Villa to tend his injured mare, we passed by a small dwelling on our right-hand side. It had about it an air of stillness and, despite only having ridden a short time, I was inclined to rest in that place for a while.

“That’s Middle O’Mist Cottage, sir,” said Tom. “It’s hard on a man to pass without stopping by, such as it is.”

l, for myself, could not observe any outward strangeness in the little cottage. It was in a cheerful and pleasant locality with a splendid view towards the Western hills. We continued apace and on fully passing by the dwelling I was wont to turn and remain there, perhaps to spend a day or a night within.

 Aitken, J. H. (1898). An Artist Abroad: Observations on South Australia

Adelaide: Ridley Educational Society

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Hey You! Peek-a-boo!

I see you!

In the beginning there was laughter.

Let us think about that for a minute.

 We were all jubilant as we began our soul’s journey.

Singing songs of love and joy, we began our voyage.

All of us knew we had hard paths ahead of us, but we set off with happiness and enthusiasm. We carried the gifts of love, laughter and courage with us as we embarked on our adventure.

 Somewhere along the way, we seem to have forgotten our true joyful nature.

We have forgotten that we are made to laugh as well as cry.

To rejoice as well as mourn.

We have overlooked the fact that by taking ourselves too seriously, we miss the fun in life and the lessons therein.

When did we stop playing peek-a-boo?

It is time to reconnect with that wonderful energy; that deep, abiding happiness that forms and drives us.We need to allow ourselves time and space to play with the joyous light that is inside us.

 This is who you are.

This is what you are made of.

This joyful, loving energy is what your soul consists of.

More than anything, recognising that we are all filled with this magnificent joie de vivre is the easiest way to connect with others.

When we reach out with love and cheerfulness, we find that others react positively to us.

This is in much the same way as a child melts your heart with a smile and causes you to join in with that infectious, unrestrained laughter.

Greet people in your life with a great, big grin and see what reaction you get.

It is contagious!

Joy is the cradle of life.

We are nurtured by it.

When we connect with true joy, we find that love, happiness and courage follow along, too.

Fill your world with giggles rather than gripes, chuckles rather than complaints and beaming smiles rather than sulks and grimaces.

Celebrate all that is inspirational, amazing and moving.

Life is short and dazzlingly beautiful

 Now, go and have some fun in this world.

You can do it. You are made of laughter.


I see you!

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