CARD TOWERS

For a few weeks, I became quite obsessed with building card towers. It began as a competition between friends, with a few winning towers of two or three stories, and then sky-rocketed from there. Soon, every idle moment was spent building towers, accidentally knocking them down, swearing, and rebuilding. 

There was that ever present goal: nine stories high. I could never reach it, as my favourite deck, with the worn edges, would not stretch that far. The eight story tower was, and still is, my limit. But one of these days I will conquer that number nine, and have the honour of chanting Queen's 'We Are the Champions' as I dance around the living room, (very very carefully of course). 

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TIPS FOR BUILDING CARD TOWERS:

Start by carefully leaning two cards against one another, in an upside-down 'v' shape.

Then make another, as close to the first as possible.

Now, place one card face down as a 'roof' over the two upside-down 'v's, so that it stabilises both of them. The trick is to use each 'roof' to stabilise the cards underneath it. If they are unstable, poke them a little till they sit more comfortably.

The number of 'v's on the bottom layer directly corresponds with how many storeys your tower will turn out to be. For example: 3 bottom 'v's = 3 storeys high. 

It is always best to work with old card decks, as the edges will be a little worn and will provide more friction and stability to your tower. Newer decks are much more slippery. So, if you have an old and a new deck, use the old first, as the tower's foundation will be much more stable.

Have patience.

DRIVING RACHEL

When mum and dad go away on long business trips, I am left with the task of driving my younger sister to school each day. 

The getting-out-of-bed part is always the hardest, and I wonder how I ever managed to get up so early for school in the first place. Then I remember why I was generally late to my first class.

Rachel on the other hand is up and ready, and knocking at my door asking me: can we go now? I reluctantly schloop myself out of bed, foregoing any form of dressing, and get into the car with my pajamas and slippers, to drive Rachel to school. 

Yet, I find there is something quite special about these early morning car trips. Rachel chatters away beside me, and every so often we sing together, me bleary-eyed, her bright and chirpy. It is winter and the sun is only just rising in the east. Then there is that moment of calm and silence after Rachel runs off to class, and I am left to contemplate the beauty of the sunrise. I always feel thankful in that moment that I am free to enjoy these things: free to see the sunrise without a care in the world, free to wear my pajamas in the car and then go home and get back in bed for another hour. 

Later in the day, I feel as if I have achieved so much more that morning, simply because I got up earlier and spent a few moments in mindfulness and simple bliss. 

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“I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.”

— Laura Ingalls Wilder

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BROWN COW

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Sometimes all I wish to do upon a day is to wander about the farm, seeing what is happening here and there and everywhere. This kind of past-time is quite rewarding, as it keeps one close with nature, in touch with the seasons, and filled with all the ripe berries and nuts that are growing on nearby bushes. At times I am accompanied by the dogs, and my sister-in-law Faith, but mostly it is just me and the fairies wandering around the paddocks.  

The best thing to do is to go and visit the farm animals. There are a few of them: sheep, horses, cows and pigs, (and a couple chickens if you can find them). It is fascinating to interact with these guys, and it never ceases to excite me when a sheep or a cow comes closer, curious about my presence. If I stand real still, I can emit a sense of calm, and then slowly, slowly a large brown cow plods towards me, and stares at me from under her beautiful big eye-lashes.

“And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers. ”

— Robert Louis Stevenson

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