Sleepy little head. So cute in my arms. So weary already. Protected from harms.

Sleepy little head. My wee angel bean. So tiny and precious, And sweetly serene.

Sleepy little head. When will you wake. Show us your eyes. It’s cute that you like sleeping so much but I’d really like to see them before you turn one.

I melt you. I melt you but you don’t melt me. I love you in a way you can’t understand. Even though the many versions of you confuse me and fascinate me, I still love you. Every version of you.

Because you taste fucking great.

Just as time appears to stand still, life Jumps forward and a new year begins. Jobs continue, back to work. The bitter, Jarring cold prevails.

Feeling weary yet hopeful. So Far from sunshine, but spring is near. Fresh air is still brisk, days are longer, the First daffodils start to bloom.

More sunshine. And rain. Lots of rain. Maybe summer will come after all. The clouds Manage to part. I feel My mood lift and a smile cross my face.

And just like that - lambs, flowers and butterflies. A world of colour instead of dreary grey. Awakening warmth. Leading towards the Arrival of bbq days.

Mother Nature you goddess. This is My zen. The first little Mosquito bite. Itchy, annoying, but we’re not Mad yet, because the sun heals all wounds.

Juicy mango in hand. Drips down my Jaw. Finally warm enough to go out without a Jacket. Feet swinging off the Jetty. Eyes closed, face towards the sun.

Jet-setting. Beaches and cocktails. Joining new friends and we’re all a bit Jolly. We’re free. Experiencing Just what it means…to now be over half way.

Airless days take us from Amber to red. The grass feels spiky, Arid, flaxen. Post-lunch siestas take their place in A reality that’s, dare I say it, a little too hot.

Somewhere the first leaf turns golden. A Soft breeze returns. Welcome and Soothing. The final warm evenings are Something to enjoy before the nights draw in.

Once the fall colours take root I Observe them fondly. The cold to come not yet Occupying my mind. Curl up with a book. Only one blanket, not two.

Nights are chillier, days are shorter. Darkness Never really leaves. She’s back. Is it Normal to reflect on the year already? I Need to do better next year.

Dancing snow lands softly. Festivities are the first Defense against winter sadness. The Dawn of another new cycle is Dangerously upon us. Crisp. Promising.

Three hundred and sixty five more.