I don’t know the source of the original quote, but a friend once told me “there is no such thing as a perfect life, just perfect moments”.  Which makes alot of sense really.  Why do we expect/hope that our lives will be perfect when this is probably impossible?  It is better to enjoy and gain satisfaction from the many small happinesses in the bigger picture, I remind myself.  And hooray too for artful imperfection.

So despite the untidy house, backlog of washing, untackled projects, lack of a shower and goodness knows what else I should have done, today was a pretty nice day.  Dear friends visiting and bringing homemade biscuits.  Children playing together happily (generally). Cups of tea and snatched conversations with a confidante.  Gifts given and inspiring books and magazines borrowed.

A family lunch in the back yard.  We like to pretend we have our own cafe, and Rex likes the novelty of eating somewhere different, relishing helping to set up.

chez nous

 Yes, that would appear to be pizza.  I would like to say it was home made, but remember, we are not talking perfect here.  It is Lebanese flat bread, purchased tomato sugo, mozzarella, shaved ham and olive paste.  10 minutes in the oven, and it tasted pretty good on a sunny day in an alfresco courtyard cafe autumnal backyard.  There may have been a small glass of wine as well …

table a deux

 And later, we thought that those old easter rabbits were starting to wear out their welcome…


Like I said, a pretty nice day.