Spring is my favourite season. The temperature, although occasionally bordering on summer heat, settles for something just right. The air softens for new life and plants grow more now than ever before, with a sea of colour embracing the landscape, as flowers bloom and whisper with the wind.

The richness of spring prove all too irresistible for butterflies, as they dance from flower to flower. This year, millions upon millions of butterflies descended upon this corner of the world, surprising us all with a migration phenomenon. The fluttering of white wings, shimmering in the golden sun, was a lovely sight to see! The changes that this season can bring is beyond beautiful, it’s extraordinary.








What makes me happy in life is giving others happiness. Babies and children are by far the easiest to do this for. Give them your attention and care, play games with them and comfort them, and I guarantee you’ll put a smile on their face.That’s why I love my job as a babysitter so much, being able to care for the little ones of our world is such a joy.

Recently I’ve been working on growing my client base and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. My goal now is to keep the momentum going so I can share my babysitting services to even more families.




My writing.

I would love to have perfect sentence structure and the grammar of a goddess. I dream of being able to entice people with my words, leaving them mesmerised and unable to shift their concentration or avert their ravenous eyes. But it’s a process, one that I’m only just starting to understand, let alone begin to learn.

The hard thing about it is, I might never accomplish this dream, at least not all the time anyway. Just like beauty, writing is very subjective. I also cannot deny that a part of me loves being able to think up words faster than I can type them, with endorphins pumping through me, as my fast fingers slightly fail to keep up with my ever babbling mind.

When my sentences fail to flow, or even make sense, I like not having to worry too much about it. At the same time, I want to make my writing powerful… perfect if you may. But more often than not, ease and perfection cannot exist in unity.


Time flys at University

Time flys at University.

Binge watching tv heartily

and all-nighters with stress galore,

leave my brown eyes ever so sore.


Weeks feel like days, as time flys on by,

and lecture recordings pile ever high.

Oh, Procrastination my dear friend,

you need to leave me for awhile, ahem!

Assessment, teamwork, exam… again,

but now I really just want to zen.


But fear not, worry not shall ye’…

good grades I will reach thee,

for my bachelor degree!




Flowers in the Courtyard

Flowers don’t worry about how they’re going to bloom. They just open up and turn toward the light and that makes them beautiful. ~Jim Carrey

Flowers are the music of the ground, from earth’s lips spoken without sound. ~Curran

Snow White

These little white flowers remind me of a fairy tale. Sometimes, when the wind travels their way, it looks like they’re trying to wave hello.

The lilac rose

The rose has a soft colour that embraces the petals with an elegant beauty. It offers a fragrance that’s soothingly sweet, nature’s finest perfume. When it blossoms, it entices us to go near, and we surrender to its beauty.

This rose is our favourite, in fact, it’s the only one that’s managed to grow in this unforgiving climate, and while we may have to wait for it to bloom, its magnificent glory is always a pleasure.

Between the stones

At certain times of the year, a generous blanket of petite, pink flowers covers the plant. This plant is one of the many grown from the mother plant, the one my mum gave my dad a few years back.

growing uppaint my leaves

Settled in the snug space between the flowers is where these plants stand proud and bring their own lovely, unique touch to the courtyard.

I have to admit, when I first saw these plants, I imagined someone splattering the leaves with paint for an added touch of irresistible pattern and colour.

Delightful flowerball

A disco ball of flowers is a delight to see on any day.

I’m not sure how, but Mother Nature has managed to pull off a little wonder. Seriously, it naturally hangs there!

Dancing fairy

A few weeks back, when my family and I were wondering around the garden centre, we spotted this little one. The girl with the orange ballerina dress now hangs from one of our trees and dances amongst the flowers with every passing breeze.

It’s my mum’s birthday today so I’d like to dedicate this post to her since the courtyard is one of her favourite places to be. Happy Birthday, Mum! I am so grateful for everything that you are and everything that you do,  love you.



No matter your shape or size, be it petite, tall, curvy, thin, large or anything in between, you are beautiful!

If you’re finding it hard to believe me, think about this:

The odds of your parent’s meeting and feeling attracted to each other or even falling in love is 1 in 40,000,000 and the chance that they created you is 1 in 400,000,000,000,000,000 (1 in 400 quadrillion). You can roughly compare this very long number to the volume of the Atlantic Ocean (in cubic meters).

ocean pic please

But wait, it doesn’t stop there; I’ve only just started.

You represent 4 billion years of life. The odds of a lineage remaining unbroken (living to reproduction age and adding to the “family tree”) since the beginning of human existence is 1 in 1045,000. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t write that as a whole number. So instead, you’ll just have to imagine the 10, followed by 45,000 zeroes. It’s bigger than the universe. In fact, even if there were a universe in all the particles of the universe, it still wouldn’t be as big as that number. Let that sink in for a minute.


I’m still not done.

The odds of receiving the right combination of DNA from your parents and everything developing correctly to make the you that you are is 1 in 102,640,000. I’m not even going to try and give an example for that one.

When you add everything up, it comes to 1 in 102,685,000. So basically, the odds that you exist is zero (actually a number very, very close to zero) which means you are a miracle!

So even if you don’t believe you’re beautiful (even though you are!), the sheer fact that you exist is a beauty that simply cannot, and should not, be ignored!




I am not a particularly religious person, but sometimes, I feel like the idea of heaven, and hell is life itself. We all experience a little of both (good and bad moments), and yet, the unfairness of life ensures a constant imbalance.




The salty smell of the sea brought about by a subtle breeze, soothed my mind, as one foot after the other beat down on the concrete below. The sun happily shared it’s warming touch as sweat dripped down the spine of my back. With my sun-kissed skin beginning to flush, I began to work on my breathing. My lungs and feet creating a rhythm that only I can control and my thoughts, forced to silence, as I focused on pacing my run with the bright blue sky reflected off the calm water only meters away.


One of the happiest times of my life was when I dedicated a little part of every day to running. I would only dabble in a few km on the weekdays but, on the weekends, my runs would venture as far as 10 km. Running always managed to put me in a good mood and pride would often swell in my chest with every bit of progress made. Back then, it wasn’t about running to burn calories. I did it because it made me happy! I could almost say it was my form of medication and helped keep me sane.

Unfortunately, raging tonsillitis forced me to take a break from my running rituals and by the time I got back out there, my stamina was nothing like it used to be. The inability to run like I used to filled me with such ridiculous anger that I just stopped running altogether. Looking back at it now, I regret that simple decision.

Despite my love for running, I have never returned. If you saw me now, you’d know about it too. Let’s just say I’m not exactly as fit as I used to be. But, THIS. IS. GOING. TO. CHANGE. Running is like an old friend to me, and I’ve only just allowed myself to miss it. So, I am going to reconnect. I’ll start little by little until we are the best of mates again. I’ll run just as good, if not better than before.


A Sad Day

This morning I woke up to the devastation of the Bastille attack in France, reports of terrorism are become more and more common and that makes my heart heavy with sadness. The images broadcast on the news have brought me to tears, and it’s times like this that make me appreciate my family. I am so grateful to know they are all well and healthy.

I can’t imagine the gut wrenching feeling that people in France must be experiencing as they try and locate their loved ones, my heart goes out to everyone affected. I will never be able to understand how some people can be so brutal. But let’s make sure the kindness in this world offsets the horror. 



Diary to Blog

Last night, as I picked up my black ballpoint pen, ready to scribble my thoughts on the smooth paper below, something stopped me.

book view.JPG

Writing in my diary has become a habit that I’ve let bloom on and off for years now. But unfortunately, if someone asked me to find my very first journal entry, I’d have no idea where to look.

If I can recall properly, I would have been about eight years old when I first wrote the words ‘Dear diary’. Perhaps I described my favourite teddy bear, an adventure with my childhood-partner-in-crime (either my twin or the next door neighbour’s kid), or a day of family fun. One thing I know for sure is, despite extreme care, it would’ve been full of spelling mistakes… I have never been that good at spelling.

So, as I sat there in my little orange and white chair, I couldn’t help wonder where all my new diary entries would go. Where, in my ever-cluttered room, am I going to keep storing them? Should I be the only one to read them, ever? Will they end up lost like so many others before them?


In that little moment, before pen hit paper, I’d already made up my mind, I was going to attempt (let’s stress the word attempt) to blog.

It’s crazy how many positives to blogging there are, but the best to me are 1. My entries will always be where I left them and 2. I can edit my writing with a simple press of a button (no messy scribbles to hide unwanted words or scrunched up pages beneath my feet).

I’m not the best writer, nor am I a particularly funny or interesting person so I can’t promise that these blogs will be worth reading for anyone but myself. But, I like the way it feels to create something. Who knows, maybe my little corner of the internet will become something great.