It's time to say goodbye...

Five years ago I started Project Grace 2010 in the lead up to my 40th birthday. This year marks the halfway point between that milestone and the next big one. 

Oh. My. God. 

There are big changes ahead this year,  "I can feel it in my waters" (in the words of Kath Day-Knight).

We (my husband Patrick and I) are in the final stages of preparing to sell our first home - this has been one of the most difficult things I've had to face. Letting go of a beautiful property that backs onto a tree-lined creek - am I mad?

But life has taken me on a journey beyond my imagination. Little did I know that the seeds planted in Project Grace 2010 would lead to a life where I live between Australia and France for 6 months at a time. 

I now work full time for a company called Bikestyle Tours and when I'm not running cycling trips in Australia, Italy, France or Spain, I'm doing behind the scenes preparations and creative designs. 

Though this lifestyle is as amazing as it sounds (I do have the best office views), it has made it impossible to move back into our house. An empty house is an empty house - you can always tell when no-one's home despite whether the lights are on or off.

It's time to say goodbye. 

Not only to our home, but to the life we thought that we would be living - one with babies, pets and friends with same-aged children. While I love the life I am living now, it's not without missing what could have been. If I could, I'd have it all. But this was not my choice to make.

A new chapter awaits. 

As with all new adventures there'll be challenges and triumphs. My biggest challenge, I know, will be to let go. 

In the spirit of 2010, I have started a new project to facilitate this transition - Project Letting Go. 

After numerous attempts to revive my blog, Project Grace 2010, it's time to say goodbye - for good.

It was only ever meant to last a year. Coming back here to launch several 'comebacks' was like putting on an outdated jacket that didn't quite fit anymore. It really is time to let go, and move on. 

If you have been following my journey on this platform, Facebook and/or Instagram, I invite you to my jump on my new platform and continue to travel with me as I embark on this new journey. 

Goodbye to Blogger and to Project Grace 2010... and hello to Tumblr and Project Letting Go. 

All aboard. Toot Toot!

With love (and gratitude for giving me the space to express myself).

- Grace xxoo

My New Home: gracemimfitz.tumblr.com

Happy 10th Birthday Facebook

Post by Grace Mimmo Fitzpatrick.

A beautiful and treasured gift I received today.

- Grace xo

Packing the Poop Chute

Since my last post I bid good riddance to 2013 and the year of the slippery snake, and welcomed 2014 and the year of the wood horse (let's hope it's not the Trojan variety).

My mind slipped into a vortex of possibilities and I became flooded with big picture questions such as - What to do next? Finish what I've started? Explore new avenues? Close doors on the past? Open new doors to the future? What shall I make for lunch?

My husband's mantra is, "Why choose? Have it all" - to which I often subscribe to.

However with so much swirling in my head I needed time to let things settle, become clear, and take steps to prioritise and organise my 'Jumps'. With that came a wave of anxiety. Some may say, "I packed my dacks" others, "I sh*t my pants" whereas I've created a new term for this uncomfortableness that precedes impending change, hard work and leaps into the unknown - "I packed my poop chute!"

... Actually, I'm still packing...

While poop is often used to indicate one's mishaps or nervousness, its most obvious definition is putrid waste. As for the chute, it's a device that slows the motion of an object through an atmosphere by creating drag.

So in a nutshell, I have been shoving a whole lot of useless crap into something that I believe will save me, but in reality is dragging me back and slowly delivering me to where I first started.

How have I not noticed this?

It's time for me to let go of my chute. Completely. Forever.

I am still preparing to jump, only instead of packing my poop chute - I am learning to strengthen my wings. It's time to start flying.

Until our next cuppa, look at how you seek protection and ask yourself, "Is this really a hinderance?"

- Grace xxoo

ps. A big congratulations to Donald Ridley who did his first water slide in Bali last year at age 44. You rock! (I too did my first ever water slide last year at age 42. So we have something else in common)

pps. A big thank you to Amber who stopped me in Adelaide last week and told me to keep writing.

ppps. An even BIGGER thank you to you if you've read this far. Just knowing you're here keeps me inspired xo

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Pinocchio and the 'Big Picture To Do List'

How many times have you written down your 'Big Picture To Do List' (which is inevitably infiltrated with little picture, really-must-get-these-things-done tasks) and by the time you get to the bottom of the page you're overwhelmed, exhausted by the sight of it and think you're insane and a complete fraud for even thinking about such grandiose ideas?

Okay... let me take a step back...

How many of us even write a  'Big Picture To Do List'?

For those with an overactive imagination, the need to have a sense of purpose and whose present-moment experience is highly influenced by the direction one is heading (i.e. me) - leveraging the 'Big Picture To Do List' can transform one from bobbing around aimlessly in an ocean full of options, to launching into life like a target-locked missile, gaining speed and momentum with each nanosecond.

Whilst 'To Do' lists are useful in ticking boxes and getting things done, the inherent problem with the 'Big Picture To Do List' is that it is, by definition, 'Big Picture' - which can often take years to manifest. So when one's 'Big Picture To Do List' remains stagnant, and what was written down 5, 10, 15, 20+ years ago is still there today, it leaves one questioning oneself - Who am I kidding? 

But before we judge ourselves, we ought to acknowledge that all 'To Do' lists have a major downfall that severely impacts the psyche of even the minutest of overachievers. They fail to recognise what has been achieved (often in place of what was on the list). Just as living into a promising future shapes our present moment experience, so too does recognising an accomplished past.

For all of us grappling with new-age notions and forbidding the future and past to intrude on the present - let me just tell you here and now that it's bullshit. Reflecting on the past and visualising a future gives context to our now. I don't condone dwelling in either direction, but brief glances to shape our present experience is what makes us human (I have no interest in being divine, sorry).

After yesterday's post many have pledged to write a 'Jumping List'. So with saying goodbye to 2013, and hello to 2014 - I ask that we not only plan our future jumps, but also acknowledge our past jumps. For failing to celebrate our achievements is hiding our truth from ourselves - and that's the biggest Pinocchio lie of all.

Until our next cuppa, start writing... and when you're overwhelmed by the future, take courage from your past.

- Grace xo

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Are you afraid to jump?

In 1992 I took a leap of faith and booked a one-way flight to London. I had little money and no real plans - my main motivators being freedom, independence and personal growth.

My parents freaked...

Dad: What are you going to do when you get there?
Me: I'll stay with my friend Tarls until I get on my feet.
Mum: How are you going to support yourself?
Me: I'll get a job.
Dad: Why don't you wait till you find a job first and then leave?
Me: I've already booked my ticket - I'm going. Don't worry - I'll find a job and I'll be okay.

And within 2 weeks, I jumped.

The following year I received an invitation to my (then) boyfriend's friend's wife's cousin's wedding... in Jamaica (as you do). Flights to Montego Bay ex London were cheap so how could I refuse?

Our cultural wedding experience was followed by a 2-week adventure that circumnavigated the island. We took advice from locals and ended up at Rick's Cafe in Negril, which is now famous for its high cliff-top jumping platforms that challenge thrill seekers to plunge into the turquoise Caribbean Sea below.

Back then, we were the only non-locals within cooee of this site - and I, the only female. Testosterone filled the air with dares and backward triple somersault jumps. I watched in anxious awe.

My companion urged me to jump assuring me that I'd love it. Instead of starting at the lower jump points - I went straight to the top of the highest platform (35ft /10.7m) .

I looked down at what seemed to be 5kms (3.1mi) below and retreated. My companion continued to jump and climb, jump and climb, jump and climb - he was like a lab rat on speed. With each plunge he assured me that I could do it, and I'd love it.

This immediately took me back to a time when I was a child at my Aunt's beach house. All my cousins would jump from a sandy cliff height of about 1.5m (5ft) onto the soft sand below. Many times I stood at the top with the intention to jump, but I just couldn't do it. Ever.

So here I am (I could hear myself thinking), I have an opportunity to have a breakthrough. Make up for all the little jumps I missed out on as a child. Do it Grace, do it.

My companion jumped in once more and from the water below called up to me, "Come on Grace - you'll loooooove it! Just jump like a tin soldier - keep your feet straight like a pin".

Before I knew it, I had launched myself from the platform.

Utterly terrified I heard a blood-curdling scream echoing all around me. It was mine. I felt myself accelerate through the fall to a point where I hit warp speed - the fastest ever free fall.

In my terror, I had become completely paralysed. I could not straighten my legs and I hit the water with the thud of my butt. It was like landing on a sandpit - from 5kms high.

What followed was years of pain and spinal complications arising from the inability to sit with good posture - what's worse was that my favourite hideout in the guise of a movie cinema, was now a torture chamber. Not a fitting reward for my bravery, I thought.

As time went on and the pain persisted, I began to view my jump as much less courageous and more likely stupid. Why do we do that with 20/20 hindsight? If I'd have had a successful breakthrough and conquered my fear of jumping - then I'd have been a hero. Instead, I deemed myself a loser.

Since then, I have become increasingly afraid to jump - both literally and metaphorically. My fear of perpetuating a 'loser outcome' has kept me safe, but it has also eroded my youthful spirit of optimism and possibility - the same spirit that had me buy that one-way ticket to London in the first instance.

Life continually tempts us with opportunities, presents us with challenges and dares us to take risks. If we are not jumping, are we passively paralysing ourselves and asphyxiating our spirit?

Right now I am on the precipice. I have so many projects that I have yearned to manifest, but my fear of jumping has kept them safely locked away in the pipeline, on the back burner and when I have money, energy and time.

With only two days of 2013 left, perhaps now is the time to prepare my chute and get ready to jump in 2014. Who's with me?

Until our next cuppa, think about where in life you are afraid to jump - and start packing your chute too.

- Grace xo

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Is the comeback making a comeback?

Hello, is there anybody out there?

It's been near on 3 years since declaring my last post and everything in this virtual landscape has changed (so much). I thought it'd be like coming home, but it's all so different now... or is it...?

Why do we (Ron Burgundy and 1960's, 70's & 80's rock bands) feel the need to make a comeback?

Is it because we are trying to recapture the feelings of success and adoration we enjoyed all those years ago?

Is is because that every 'new' thing we've tried since our departure has failed, or simply did not give us the same buzz?

Is a comeback similar to rekindling an old flame? We go back because of great memories - but in time, will we soon be reminded why we split up in the first place?

All is to be revealed (to myself also).

So why the comeback - my comeback - and will it last?

Truth is, I don't know.

I reinvented myself a gazillion times after Project Grace 2010 in my pursuit of the perfect persona and the perfect blog - but I felt like I was an impostor... of myself.

Weird, I know.

I started Project Grace 2010 with a specific intention of 'finding myself' leading up to my 40th birthday.

The thing is, I am continually evolving (aren't we all?) and I failed to allow my blog to evolve with me.

I held a rigid interpretation of the title, which made it seem odd for me to continue beyond 2010. How silly was I?

Three years later,  my view has expanded. Project Grace 2010 can mean whatever I choose for it to mean. I am the creator, the author - just as I am creator and author of my life... it's time to start writing... again.

Until our next virtual cuppa, where in life can you alter your interpretation and make a comeback?

Grace xo

ps. Thank you Kate for your encouraging words on 6th September 2010.

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Beyond Project Grace 2010

After much contemplation, I declare that Project Grace 2010, the blog, has come to its timely end.

It was not an easy decision and, at first, was hard to let go. However there were a number of factors that made the way clear.

January 1st, 2011 seemed like an obvious expiration date for a 2010 project and I realised that continuing with it would have diluted its significance and potentially morph it into something else.

I concluded that Project Grace 2010 needed to be honoured and shine in cyberspace as a stand alone star. Had I proceeded to use it as a daily blog, I risked overshadowing the project itself. I could not allow this. I owe so much to it.

You see, Project Grace 2010 saved my life. When I reflect on how lost I felt the day I started, I realised I have conquered a mountain - Mt. Fabulous At Forty in fact. I have gained so many insights and in many ways have learned more in its 9-month duration than I did in the 39-years leading up to it. It gave me perspective, resolution, confidence, self worth and an enormous sense of purpose. I am forever grateful.

In its wake, there was an empty space. A void I couldn't live with. So I started something new. Something that would give me as much purpose and passion as Project Grace 2010. I like to think of it as my project's offspring - which makes perfect sense seeing the gestation period was exactly 9 months.

So without further ado, I am delighted to introduce you to Trailing Grace.

Trailing Grace is my new blog sans expiry date. I invite to join me at my new cyber home and continue to share my journey as I travel through life's peaks and troughs. This evolving new space is destined to have many virtual rooms, though at this stage is a little stark and needs an interior decorator (aka me) to get to work on it pronto.

Until we meet again at my new abode, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

Grace xx

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The last hour

It is the last hour of 2010 and I am sitting in the passenger seat thumbing this post.

The last 24 hours have been an apt reflection of what this year has been like for me; full of ups and downs, reactions and insights, conflicts and resolutions.

I am happy to say that I am at peace.

Tonight we opted to escape the new year madness and, after driving around for 90 minutes, Patrick and I created our own magic.

We decided that having kebabs and Champagne by the quiet shores nearby Melbourne's shipping docks would be the perfect way to end a perfectly imperfect year. And indeed it was - though we did swap the bubbles for organic orange juice.

With the clock ticking, the new year is but a few minutes away. Can a project dated 2010 continue into 2011?

I have decided not to answer straight away. I am taking a few days off and let the new year settle into my bones. Whatever I decide, be rest assured that I will let you know.

As midnight draws nearer, all I feel now is enormous gratitude. Thank you for lending me your ears and giving me a voice. Know that you have been instrumental in putting Humpty Dumpty together again.

This greatest reveal of Project Grace 2010 has been that my mojo was never lost. It was simply buried under years of emotional garbage, which took 9 months of regular trips to the dumpster (aka blog) to eliminate.

I feel stronger, clearer, focused and committed. There is structure, strategy and security in my renewed optimism.

Until next year, eliminate your emotional garbage regularly so that your mojo is within easy access.

Grace xx

PS. Have an amazing 2011. May it be full of love, happiness and exciting goals that will challenge and reward you. Don't be shy to embark on your own personal project and share it with the world... or at least me :-)

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New Year's Eve Eve

The number of couch surfers we are hosting has multiplied!

As a result of fully booked backpacker accommodation in Melbourne, we now have three gorgeous, youthful, fun loving Italians staying with us (Lucio's friends who bused in from Adelaide).

After an amazing meal prepared by the newcomers Ambra (the marine biologist), Raffa (the barista) and a few glasses of good vino, the box of wigs and spectacles came out to play.

Needless to say we've had a fabulous night and have welcomed the last day of 2010. It's now 2:47am and it doesn't look like we'll be going to bed anytime soon.

So without further ado, I bid you adieu. I'm off to play Miss. DJ for there are many great tunes that ensue.

Oh, and for those who knew me in the days of Gracelands, Club Safari and /or the Salmon Palace, I am happy to report that my mojo is in full swing... and if you're lucky, you may even get an "I love you" phone call.

Until tomorrow, open your heart and home to those stranded with nowhere to sleep... you could be harboring the parents of a future messiah.

Grace xx

PS. Patrick has written his own version of this evening's events... click here if you're keen to read his side of the story ;-)

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Lackadaisical

Today we bid farewell to yesterday's interstate guests and welcomed an international couch surfer from Italy. Luciano is a delightful fellow who is here to explore Australia whilst improving his English.

Our conversations have hit several stumbling blocks, often prompting to us to reach for the nearest translation tool. On one occasion, Lucio (as he'd rather be called) grabbed his copy of 'Tutto Inglese' (I'll let you Google translate that one) and as I flicked through the pages I came across this word; lackadaisical.

To my memory, I've never heard it. Ever.

Patrick on the other hand, was familiar with the term. He joyfully stroked his feathers (in his cap) as he waltzed to his laptop in order to give me a more articulate definition:

lackadaisical |ˈlakəˈdeɪzɪk(ə)l|

adjective

lacking enthusiasm and determination; carelessly lazy : a lackadaisical attempt at sun bathing in the Himalayas, saw Grace lying flat on her back whilst fully robed (amazing - it really said that! - okay, it really didn't).

I have very quickly become fond of this word. Not so much for what it means, but for the way it sounds and how it feels to say it. Lackadaisical.

Just when you think that an Italian couch surfer couldn't introduce you to a new English word, Tutto Inglese would prove you otherwise... and THAT'S what I love about sharing conversations with those that are learning your language, or you learning theirs.

Until tomorrow, don't be too lackadaisical to learn new words - even if it means having challenging inter-language conversations.

Grace xx

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Under cover

This is me literally under cover as I type one fingered on my iPhone. Not easy.

I find myself in this situation after welcoming our surprise interstate visitors, who are now in bed in the next room.

The children are sensitive to light and our window dressings are no match for this beacon of light (I live in a converted office space with windows that divide the two rooms).

So it's just a quick hello from me as I sweat under here.

Until tomorrow, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Grace xx

Walking in water

Mum and I went for a walk along the beach straight after dinner this evening. We fought off temptation to retire to the couch for some well-earned potato inaction. Instead, we headed out the door.

We didn't have far to go before reaching the shore and swiftly kicking off our flip flops. We let the cool water wash over our feet as we engaged in conversations destined to solve the world's problems. It was delightful.

As we walked side by side, I couldn't help but notice my heightened senses. The sound of the waves lapping, the smell of the the salty sea air, the feel of sand between my toes and the wind playing with my hair. All these glorious sensations as I connected with my beautiful, sensitive, funny, loving, generous and nurturing mother, transported me to a place of pure bliss.

I love these magnificent moments. It's like walking-talking meditation where time performs a magic trick; it stands still, yet passes quickly. How does it do that? Oh yeah, it's magic.

Mum and I returned home feeling refreshed, and revived. It's these magical moments where we are fully present that rejuvenate us.

Then I had a light globe moment - such magic doesn't just happen, we create it.

Mum and I could have chosen recuperation by spending our evening gazing at the television. Instead, we chose rejuvenation by investing our time on the beach, with each other and walking in water.

As time goes on, I know I'll remember and treasure tonight's walk more than any Hollywood blockbuster Foxtel could offer. I'm glad we created magic.

Until tomorrow, invest your time in rejuvenation by creating your own magic moments.

Grace xx

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Sunday Sentence

"Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas."

- Calvin Coolidge

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Merry Christmas

I love the message of this YouTube Video...

Have a great Christmas everyone!'

Love Grace xx

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The Spirit of Christmas

Some time ago, I had an underlying negative attitude towards Christmas. Though I didn't vocalise it, I thought (deep down) that Christmas had lost it's soul and in its place was commercialism, consumerism, alcoholism and gluttony. In my view, Christmas had turned into an annual obligation that had little to do with the acknowledgement of a baby being born in Bethlehem some two thousand(ish) years ago. What was the point?

As I evolved into being more spiritual and less in line with 'a' religion (I do declare that I have a healthy respect for all religious teachings), I began to question whether it was appropriate to even celebrate Christmas. So for many years I was in limbo. That is, until the day I witnessed Fathia (a practicing Muslim) writing out Christmas Cards.

Fathia and I had done a business course together, where I'd learned that this amazingly strong and brazen woman had an enormous heart of gold. Seeing her scribe next to images of Santa Claus must have drawn a puzzled look on my face as she was quick to explain, "I am Muslim, we do not believe in Christmas. But my friends do, and I know this is a very special time for them. So I am writing these cards to wish them a happy Christmas because I know it is important to them".

Well, I was completely humbled. Wow. What a woman.

From that point on, I began to see Christmas differently. If Fathia knew how important Christmas was to her friends, then how could I be so blind? I stopped making Christmas wrong and everything about it negative. I started looking at what Christmas does mean and what it brings to those that celebrate it.

In a world that aims to make life effortless, Christmas is the one day of the year that calls for people to... well... make an effort. Whether it be organising, planning, shopping, wrapping, baking, making, cooking, cleaning, decorating, flying, sailing, driving, grooming, dressing, impressing, playing, thanking, giving or forgiving, it's a time where we do more for others and less for ourselves... and it's about making wishes come true (that's what the letters to Santa are about, which is similar to writing letters to the cosmos - apparently they share the same address - shhhhhhhh).

Christmas is essentially about family.

When most meals are spent in front of the telly and dinner with siblings happens but thrice a year, Christmas asks us to stop, organise our lives and make family our priority. Out of 365 days, this is the only day that asks this of us (unless of course you're from North America and Thanks Giving makes two), and yet we STILL grumble.

The spirit of Christmas lies in appreciation, gratitude and love. It really doesn't take much to ignite the spirit when all three are in play. If you're feeling a bit grumpy about tomorrow, take a refreshing new look at it and allow the spirit to brighten up your life. And if all else fails, remember Fathia - a generous woman with a heart of gold who, despite her own beliefs, realised the importance this day is to those she cares about. Bless her.

Until tomorrow, be sure to ignite your Christmas spirit and make the effort to have a very merry and loving Christmas.

Grace xx

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The Secret to Power Shopping

You might be shocked to learn (even horrified) that I traditionally do all of my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve.

I stumbled upon this oasis of a shopping experience a few years ago when for some reason or another, I was forced into the stores the eve before Christmas. I was astounded to witness how few people actually shop for gifts on this day.

So while the masses have migrated from gift traps to supermarkets and bottle shops (aka liquor stores), the few that are brave enough to leave it to the last minute are rewarded with relative tranquility.

Today I did my shopping a day early and started my quest at 4:30pm this afternoon and was in the car soon after 6pm. Done and dusted. Yep, that's right, all done.

So what's the secret to power shopping?

It's about being open minded and seeing what appears. I liken the experience to hunter gatherers. Hunters know what they want and go for it. It might take days to get their kill, but they are dedicated to the hunt. They'll do whatever it takes to claim their prize.

Power shoppers are gatherers on a mission. They are exploratory by nature and tend to fossick through what might appear as random objects, searching for what would appeal to the intended recipient. They go to the quiet corners, bottom shelves and generally have an open mind and allow the gifts present themselves.

Have faith and listen to your intuition.

When you have a limited time, you get into a zone. No distractions. You are there with a purpose to fulfil. It's amazing how much you can get done in such a short space of time. Notice your feelings. There'll always be an indication as to whether you're on or off the right track.

I have to admit, I was a bit clumsy at first and purchased things despite my gut saying no. My head was all too quick to settle with an "it'll do", then I'd go around the corner and discover the perfect present and my gut would spit out "see, I told you so!". Then I'd go into damage control and manage my post-purchase dissonance - usually by getting a refund for the not-so-perfect present. A slight time-waster, but a small price to pay when you have the entire shopping centre to yourself.

So that's it, all my shopping done in record time and a day early. Fabulous.

Until tomorrow, learn to maximise your time during the silly season and get tips from an expert ;-)

Grace xx

Cherry on top

A few days ago I came across this quad-cherry. Doubles and triples are common, but a quad - when have you ever seen such a thing?

So I left it out to photograph under strict orders that it not be eaten until I did so.

My current schedule meant that the cherries were out longer than necessary and consequently went a bit soft, thus resulting in a less than 'wow' photo.

This got me thinking...

Sometimes we have to take opportunities as they present themselves, for delaying it could mean passing up the optimum moment. If we wait any longer, we could miss it all together.

Taking action promptly may mean that we not only get to 'have the cake and eat it too', but we also get a bite at the cherry on top.

Until tomorrow, don't wait for the second bite of the cherry for it may not come around twice.

Grace xx

The Sicilian Girl

Before you start thinking that this space is transforming into a movie review site, it's not. Let's just say there are only three sleeps till Christmas and my days have been full to the brim. So busy in fact, that I haven't called my mother in three days! (sorry Mum, I'll buzz you tomorrow).

I'm also immersing myself in the preparation for my dream endurance event, which means training six days a week and doing the groundwork in setting up the 'goal getters group' at my gym. This has left me all but completely spent by the time evening falls upon us (BTW I have filmed a number of in-action videos, which I plan to upload on YouTube this year - so stay tuned, there aren't too many days left).

This year's Christmas build-up has been quite different to most. The persistent rain and unbelievably cold weather has made the traditional Aussie BBQ seem as inviting as going skinny dipping in Antarctica. Needless to say, crap weather and fatigue has led to me spending several evenings zoning out in the lounge room giving our DVD player a good workout (much like my legs).

Tonight's movie, The Sicilian Girl, is based on a true story. I won't tell you too much other than it's about a young girl's vendetta against the Mafia, and is well worth the read (that is, if you can't understand Italian dialogue). What I loved most about this film is that Rita, the main (and real life) character discovered the difference between revenge and justice. What also struck me was her unwavering commitment, despite her young age. Very powerful and utterly moving.

Until tomorrow, seek sanctuary from the silly season and shelter from the rain by reading a good foreign DVD.

Grace xx

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Cemetery Junction

Occasionally I'll see a film that I completely fall in love with. They're usually ones that have me feeling good, without it being too cheesy. A bit like a good salad.

Tonight we watched a British film called Cemetery Junction. If you Google reviews you'll read two opposing opinions (isn't that the case with most films?). I sided with those that loved the movie.

Despite what other's say, I always think it's important to sample things for yourself - just like food and wine. Taste it and make your own judgements.

Patrick and I were left feeling warmed. We enjoyed the cinematography, the 1973 setting and felt the balance between belly laughs and touching moments was just right. We are just about to climb into bed now and are both feeling uplifted. Isn't that a nice way to end the day? (especially one that's been wet and cold).

Until tomorrow, ensure that you sample life's offerings and make your own mind up.

Grace xx

Sunday Sentence

"You will never find time for anything. If you want the time, you must make it."

- Charles Buxton

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