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

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Out on the town

Tonight we were invited to an exclusive event hosted by master blogger Wade Wallace of Cycling Tips. The event was held at ACMI in Federation Square where a series of short films were presented by Rapha, a deluxe brand of cycling apparel.

The films were great, but it was Wade that shone in my eyes.

Wade is such an inspiration to an aspiring bloggess like your's truly. After starting Cycling Tips around two years ago, he is now highly sought after and his blog is his full time job.

Wade's site has the support of great sponsors and is the epicenter of a worldwide cycling community with over a million hits a month. Yet he is humble, humorous and an absolute joy to be around.

As we walked to our respective cars after a post-event dinner, I couldn't help but marvel at Wade's success. In short, he is my hero and my inspiration. So much so, that I am sitting here nigh on midnight tapping away with one finger on my iPhone to bring you a post that was supposed to be about my night on the town, and has turned into a tribute to the great man.

I suppose this photo of me taken just minutes before I climbed into the car is completely out of context now... other than the fact that Wade said I looked nice (thanks Wade).

Until tomorrow, let conversations take you where you hadn't planned and enjoy the detour. Much like a good road trip.

Grace xx

PS. Just got home and thought you might like to see this post Wade did about the time we hung out in Switzerland (as you do). He and Pat went for this crazy bike ride along a cliff face (as they do). Check it out by clicking this link. Oh, and make sure you watch the video at the bottom. Crazy!

Meaningful goals matter

After finishing yesterday's MTS [Moving Target Syndrome] post, I was less than enthusiastic about heading outside in the rain to return a DVD (which by the way was The Soloist - a fabulous film).

This was a classic case of MTS manifesting and thankfully, I managed to nip it in the bud.

I knew that if I wanted to really get ahead in my health and fitness, it was high time to set a meaningful goal that mattered - one that stirred a fire in my belly and inspire me to spring into action, no matter what the weather was like outside.

There have been a few things that I've long fantasised about, but have never had the courage to pursue them. I jumped onto Google to do a bit more research and learned that what I envisaged was in fact possible for me. I felt a thrill of excitement pulsate throughout my body.

With images of possibility playing in my mind, I put on my running shoes, grabbed a spray jacket and darted out the door. As I did the 'Cliff Young shuffle' for 55 minutes in the drizzling rain, I felt a sense of purpose. I wasn't returning a video nor was I going for a run. I was taking the first steps towards my new goal - the one that matters.

Now before you scream out wanting to know what that goal is, I have decided to keep tight lipped about it. I have a tendency to deflate my enthusiasm by being too verbose about certain things. So for the time being, it's just my big dream that I've shared with Patrick and have his full support.

I am now in the process of devising an action plan and will be seeking the advise of experts to help me achieve my goal, which is big. In fact, it's huge. I am so excited.

Until tomorrow, set the wheels in motion by aiming for something that matters to YOU!

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

MTS [Moving Target Syndrome]

Does anyone else out there suffer MTS [Moving Target Syndrome]?

I thought I'd just invented that term, but a Google search revealed otherwise. Nonetheless I will continue with my own definition.

I was once very good at setting goals and achieving them. However over recent years my goals have become moving targets, which has made reaching them all the more difficult... if not impossible.

How did I contract MTS? Does knowing the answer solve the problem?

Hmmmm...

Let's first look at a couple of big goals that I achieved and explore why I was unstoppable in achieving them, perhaps that'll reveal some insights:

• Winning $15,000 in a Body Transformation Challenge
  
  I wanted to win the money for our home loan deposit, which was down $15,000 after a car purchase. I was highly motivated and I would chant "home loan deposit, home loan deposit, home loan deposit" to get me through tough times (like running in the rain, riding into headwinds and getting up at 5.00am). The goal was never about loosing weight - it was about buying a home, which we did five months after I'd won the money.
  
  
• Publishing 'Nubsy McNoodle Wanted A Poodle'
  
  I made a promise to two children who'd helped write the manuscript, that I would publish our work and launch it by Christmas. I found the process terrifying yet I would remember my promise and push through the challenges. In nine months and four days, our story was edited, illustrated, printed, bound and launched by Bud Tingwell on November 28th that year. Publishing that book was about making good on a promise to young siblings who had been repeatedly let down by their biological father. I wanted to restore their faith in people, and promises. It was never about the book. I have since written another four manuscripts and have illustrations for two of them, however I've not been able to take further steps in having them realised - perhaps I need to make a new promise(?)
  

Now that I have written all this down, it is crystal clear. A bit like staring into those magic 3D patterns and the picture appears.

Worthy goals are solid. They do not have moving targets. They mean so much to those that set them that no obstacle can stand in the way. The goal is the priority. It ignites a fiery passion that is worth sacrificing and striving for, no matter how big the challenges are.

It's been years since I've had a goal that has stirred me that way.

In the absence of a worthy goal I've made a whole lot of superficial ones and, truly, they've been as inspiring as choosing what type of coffee I want to drink. It's no wonder the targets are constantly moving - so are my coffee preferences.

Does MTS lie in the types goals I am setting myself?

This begs the next question (or questions) - Am I setting uninspiring goals because I've become too afraid to set big worthy ones? Or is it because I have no idea what I really want to do and why I want to do it? If the truth be told, the first answer is the honest one. I do have big goals, only I have become too scared to declare them and action them.

That's enough for now, I'm off to return a DVD (in the rain and without a car). I'm going to use this time to do a bit more soul searching. I need to revive some passion into my life, and that'll start with defining that illusive juicy goal. Perhaps then my MTS will resolve.

Until tomorrow, see where you can ignite passion into your life and declare a worthy goal.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

My head, my prison

You might be wondering, "What's happened to Grace?" "Why don't we have regular blog posts anymore?" "What is she doing, where has she been?"

While my physical body has been frolicking about with friends, learning what it is to be a Thermomix consultant and hosting Patrick's grandmother for a week, my mental self has been in a dark, self-imposed prison.

Since writing 'The Blues Strike Back' over a month ago, I haven't managed to shake them off. There have been moments of glee, but mostly it's been very unpleasant living with the contents of my head.

This morning I woke up and asked myself "Why am I like this again?" What happened on the 10th of October that has taken me from feeling happy for weeks on end, to feeling chronically anxious and despondent?

My first answer: I do not know.

Then I took time to reflect...

I noticed how my hectic schedule with two trips to Adelaide, a trip to Bali, a wedding, 3 significant birthdays and my upcoming 40th translated to blog posts becoming increasingly shallow. This has happened before, but I've been slow to recognise the pattern... and the impact.

The initial plan for Project Grace 2010 was that November 3rd (my 40th birthday) would mark the completion of the project. Yet it has been and gone and I feel completely incomplete. I've been hovering in shallow conversations and uncertainty for weeks, and it's only making matters worse.

Then last week, I had a meltdown. My anxiety levels had redlined and I rang a girlfriend in desperation. She called back when the household was asleep, so I tiptoed to the bathroom and spent over an hour atop of the toilet seat talking at low volume so Pat and Gran couldn't hear.

Releasing rancid thoughts had an instant calming effect. Though I'd been harbouring so many for so long that it took several conversations with a number of friends over a few days to liberate me (thank you Marsie, Special K, Tarls and mon Cherie).

This morning I felt lighter and more optimistic. As I roused from bed I had the biggest 'aha' moment...

Remember the post titled 'Virtual Shrink's Couch'? Well that's essentially what my blog is for me. Sure it's had a fair share of being a quiz corner, travel diary and fun house, but essentially it's a place where I can 'talk' about things as they occur, thus releasing it from the confines of my torturous head.

What an incredible insight.

I recall many moments of feeling instantly and permanently better after having written things that had plagued me for years, like:

• When 100% Equals FAIL
• Rising Star
• The 5 Stages of Grief

As soon as I had externalised what I was feeling, I was free. Amazing. I've learned that keeping poisonous thoughts in our heads is toxic and can cause self harm - which can be in the form of drinking to excess, eating illicit foods, taking mood altering substances and even go as far as self mutilation and suicide.

So in order to maintain my sanity, I am back.

When marvellous Mikey McCorry (who has been blogging for over 10 years) responded to 'I am Revolting' by saying "the only really important stakeholder is you", I now concur.

Having once thought it was self indulgent to dedicate time into making myself a happier 'me', I realise that other people benefit from my state of being. When I am happy and in a balanced state, I am a significantly better wife, daughter, sister, aunty, niece, friend and colleague. In order for me to be that way, I need to continually invest time into 'me'... and Project Grace 2010 is that investment.

Society is quick to slap the term 'self indulgent' on anyone bold enough to take time out for themselves. Yet the same society is bewildered over people abusing themselves and, or, taking their own lives. The fact of the matter is that we are humans and we need connection. Sharing ourselves - good and bad - is not only for our well being, but for others. When we share, we not only provide opportunities for insight, but we encourage and inspire others to do the same.

For me, my blog is my life saver. I make no apologies for being 'indulgent'. I am, at the end of each day, the most important stakeholder.

Until tomorrow, take stock of your life, be indulgent and set yourself free.

Grace xx

My Dad, my hero

Yesterday we celebrated Father's Day.

I realise how lucky I am that my relationship with my father has prospered over the years, though it was not always that way.

My father and I both share a strong will, which at times had us locking horns - especially during my adolescence.

Distance made our hearts grow fonder when, at the age of 21, I moved to London. During the second year of my stay, Dad came to visit me (pictured above) and we had a great time being tourists together. I found it wonderful to connect with him in a way that was foreign to me and made me feel 'grown up'.

At the end of my two-year sojourn, I left London to live in the South Australian country town of Gawler (between Adelaide and the Barossa Valley) for a further six years before returning to Melbourne aged 29. Being on the cusp of the big 3-0, I thought I was well and truly grown up (haha, how wrong I was). So you could imagine how utterly perplexed I was to find myself behaving like I was 15 again.

WHAT THE?

I distinctly remember looking into the mirror and asking myself "What are you doing? Why are you being like this?". Somehow I had regressed. What happened between London and returning home?

I figured that being in new surroundings was like a clean slate. There's no history, no triggers and you can create something new - a bit like building a new home. Find a patch of land and start from scratch.

However I had come home to a place that was steeped in history, old patters, triggers and reactions. My teenage behaviour was as shocking to me as walking into a house with original mission brown cupboards and lime green Formica bench tops - it was SO OUTDATED. I needed to renovate and refurbish my relationship with father.

From that moment I got to work. I started peeling off the wallpaper - the facade of what I saw my father to be, and revealed the human being beneath. I saw a little boy who grew up to be a man. I sensed someone who had dreams and disappointments, elation and sadness, courage and fear, loneliness and joy, mistakes and triumphs. Someone not at all too different to me.

We expect so much from our parents and I don't think many of us stop and realise they are just human beings. We are particularly unforgiving of their shortcomings, especially in relation to us, our family and upbringing. We expect them to be faultless, and yet we begrudge anyone else having such unrealistic expectations of us.

So today, post Father's Day, I'd like to make a special tribute to my dad.

Dad, thank you for not being so hard on me as I have been on you. Thank you for forgiving me, loving me and accepting me, despite my many erroneous ways. Thank you for giving me a second, third, fourth and fifth chance (and any more I may have missed). Thank you for enabling our relationship to grow. I am so proud of you, for all your inventions, your creative solutions and all that you have achieved. You are a genius, you are my hero, and I love you.

Until tomorrow, remember that your parents are human beings and we didn't come with an instruction manual.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Passing the Torch

Some years ago - a decade actually - I was in charge of promoting the Sydney 2000 Olympic Torch Relay in the South Australian country town of Gawler.

It all came about after volunteering at the Gawler Visitor Centre under Brian Sambell, who is now the town's Mayor (oh yeah, I know people in high places - don't you worry about that).

The aim was to raise community awareness and get people involved in nominating local heros to be community torchbearers. It was a great project and I enthusiastically embraced it.

In order to start the ball rolling, I suggested to my then boyfriend (now husband) Patrick to nominate his grandmother Lil Ruffle for the first story. Lil (aka Gran) is such an inspiration and I intend to dedicate an entire post to her. In the meantime, let's just say that she is 86 years young and still cycles on the road for over 100km (62miles) per week.

Patrick was happy to be my 'guinea pig' and his nomination for Gran was my first media story, complete with giant publicity photo, to be published in The Bunyip newspaper. It was a personal victory for me, but what followed was more than I could have ever anticipated.

Gran was selected to be a community torchbearer at the age of 76. Her goal was to run the entire distance (500m / a third of a mile) while holding the 1kg (2.2pound) torch high above her head. After 6 months of focused training in all conditions, she did it with ease - and was consequently televised on every news channel.

This morning I was passing the torch en route to the kitchen when it caught my eye. Though it has been standing there tall and proud ever since, I'd stopped noticing it and its significance. This time, however, it stopped me in my tracks and I began to reflect.

To be honest, I'm always on the lookout for blog fodder and this torch shone like a beacon today... most probably because IT IS a beacon.

I thought about how the torch came to be in our lives, its symbolism and what it has manifested. For a start, it was a dream come true and a just reward for an unsung local hero. Gran's friends flew over from Canada to watch her carry it, the family of four generations came together to celebrate it and Gran, eventually, got to own it.

The torch represents how the spark of an idea carried through can change the course of one's life and the life of those connected to them. It is also a potent reminder of how each person carries a flame that when touched, can ignite the flame of another - and to me, that flame is inspiration.

Just like passing the torch in Gran's kitchen, we erroneously walk past those that harbour inspirational flames that could potentially light up our lives. These people are our spouses, children, parents, grandparents, neighbours, family, friends and colleagues.

Until tomorrow, take time to reignite your flame with the flame of those around you.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

One brick at a time

This photo is rather symbolic of my journey.

Brick by brick, I built a wall around me till I could no longer function. Thankfully, I woke up one day and decided I needed to take action before my 40th birthday (3rd November) and Project Grace 2010 was born.

I reached in and over five months of conscious effort and daily blogging (minus the media blackout in France), I've managed to pull myself out.

It's not over yet, I still have 11-weeks to go.

Here I stand on the outside and am covered in metaphorical dust. I still have some cleaning up to do, but for the most part - I am out.

The big question is, why did I build the wall in the first instance?

In short, it was to protect myself. What I didn't realise was that in the process, I had imprisoned myself.

Project Grace 2010 has been a process of realisation, liberation and transformation. Brick by brick I have removed the confines of my self-imprisonment and for the first time in a long time, I am feeling free. Free to be me and create a life that I want to live.

Tomorrow we set off once again, only this time we'll remain within Australia. We are heading off to Adelaide via the Great Ocean Road to do yet another reconnaissance. Only this time it is for a tour de south east Australia, which is scheduled for Easter 2011.

I know things have changed from the inside when I return from an overseas trip and I am happy to be home. Despite having returned from sunny Europe and Malaysia to a cold raining Melbourne, I am still smiling. My bags are unpacked, the washing is up to date and plans are in action. Instead of falling into a familiar depressed slump, I am excited about future projects. I cannot sit still.

Until tomorrow, remember that deconstructing a brick wall is done in the same way as constructing it - one brick at a time.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Sunday Sentence

"The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."

- Winston Churchil

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Smoke and Mirrors

I think I speak on behalf of most human beings when I say "When we are young, we are most impressionable".

We are, aren't we?

We're eager to light up so we can be as cool and sophisticated as those older than us, despite our initial response being cough, cough, splatter, "yuck!"

We spend hours in front of the mirror with ten different hair products aiming to replicate that impossibly stylish look that is sported by our teen screen idols -not to mention applying layers of make up to hide our blemishes and mask who we really are.

We turn to methods of pulling hairs out by their roots in order to have smooth silky skin for longer, despite the excruciating pain we endure to achieve such carnal beauty. To top it all off we mask our natural youthful aromas by spraying an assortment of scents, everything from cheap all over body deodorants to expensive French perfumes.

If you're lucky, there'll come a time when you meet someone who changes your way of thinking - forever. Such a time occurred in 1992 when I shared a house with six fresh-faced Londoners in the south east borough of Lewisham.

I met a young lad named Alan (pictured) who turned my attention to natural beauty. I was astounded to learn that he did not care for the overwhelming pungency of perfume no matter how expensive it was. He was not repulsed by female bodily hair and he preferred women without make up and overdone hairstyles. Wow.

Having shared the same abode with Alan for some time, I began to relax in my body and feel confident to walk out the door sans make up and avec a few strands of rogue hair. I was no longer ashamed of being natural.

In case you're wondering, Alan and I shared a purely platonic friendship despite the fact that I thought he was rather dishy at the time.

So for those of you who are inspired by the fact that I'm comfortable in my own skin, you now know how I reached that point. And for that, I thank Mr. Alan.

Until tomorrow, give thanks to those who have changed your life for the better.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Sunday Sentence

"Character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones."

- Phillips Brooks

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Sunday Sentence

"A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?"

- Kahlil Gibran

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Le Tour de Paris avec la Musique

Last night we celebrated la Fête de la Musique (music festival) which, as I mentioned in yesterday's post, marks the beginning of summer.

I was invited by my host, and now very good friend, Adélia to join her and her friends at an intimate bar in the south of Paris.

I accepted.

The evening was a blast and words cannot aptly describe the magnitude of fun-ness. So where words fail, images and music prevail.

I've compiled a sample of the evening's joyfulness in a YouTube video embedded below for your convenience. So if you can grab yourself a glass of vin rouge, or a beverage of your choice, sip a little and enjoy.

So how do you think we managed to finish off this fabulous evening?

Well it wasn't a drunken ride slumped in the back of a cab, in case you're wondering. Instead, Adélia had to cycle home and I joined her on one of Paris' rent-a-bike-by-the-side-of-the-road deals.

Not sure if you know, but Paris is full of Velib velos (bikes) that you can pick up and drop off at any of their gazillion brilliantly located depots. Usually nearby a Metro station or out the front of a cafe so you have to be super careful not to make a spectacle of yourself.

After a quick lesson on how the hiring process works, I mounted my stead and we were off - sans helmet and avec high heeled Mary Janes. Very Paris. Very Chic.

For the record I'd prefer to ride with a helmet, but that was not an option last night.

We took over an hour cycling home so I imagine we covered most music genres (and departments of Paris), everything from jazz and world music to hard rock and doof doof. Tunes were beating out at bars, restaurants and outdoor concert arenas. Man, Parisians sure do take this Fête de la Musique seriously. It had the same vibe as New Years Eve - buzzing!

Until tomorrow, uplift your spirit and play some tunes.

Grace xx

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Sunday Sentence

"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page"

- St. Augustine

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Sunday Sentence

"The only journey is the journey within"

- Rainer Maria Rilke

If you a. love me, b. love my blog, c. love this post or d. all of the above - please SHARE

Celebrating those at Stage IIII/ - Acceptance

This is the stage that we resist from day one.

WE DO NO WANT TO ACCEPT whatever has caused our grief, be it death, illness, disease, tragedy, loss or change.

We want it undone.

We fight it, resist, do anything to avoid it. We bury our head in the sand (denial), fight it tooth and nail for it is so unfair (anger), plead and beg for it to be reversed and go away (bargaining), until we become completely depleted and despondent (depression).

Then one day, we succumb (acceptance).

Does that mean we've given up?

At first, I thought it did - and that's why I fought against it so much. I have since invented a new meaning for acceptance.

Acceptance is giving up the struggle, but not the hope. It doesn't mean you have to like what has caused you grief, but you can live with it. It's about choosing to be okay. It's about moving on. It's about discovering new meanings to life that did not exist before.

Until tomorrow, may we have compassion for all those who are at various stages of grieving. Wishing you a speedy journey to stage five.

Grace xx

Honouring those at Stage IIII - Depression

Today's Sunday Sentence

Whenever someone sorrows, I do not say, "forget it," or "it will pass," or "it could be worse" - all of which deny the integrity of the painful experience. But I say, to the contrary, "It is worse than you may allow yourself to think. Delve into the depth. Stay with the feeling. Think of it as a precious source of knowledge and guidance. Then and only then will you be ready to face it and be transformed in the process."

-Peter Koestenbaum, Philosopher

Sunday Sentence

"What you are is what you have been, and what you will be is what you do now."

- Buddha

Well, well... well (the sequel)

I've had time to ponder since yesterday's post and it seems you have too.

Here are the responses I've received thus far:

1. Remind ourselves how blessed we really are... far better to focus on the positive and count your blessings if you want to fill your well
   
   
2. Ride your bike, it fixes all the world problems one pedal stroke at a time
   
   
3. What if you dont have time to ride your bike... and you know how blessed you are but you still can't shake it off?
   
   
4. Dig a hole... go outside, grab a shovel, dig a hole and plant something... spending time in the sunshine, nurturing a small patch of earth and making a investment in your future is an exercise in hope

Firstly, THANK YOU!

Now for my responses:

1. Reminding ourselves how blessed we really are is being grateful for having a well in the first instance. Counting our blessings is also useful. We could do this literally by having a container that is our 'well' (i.e. jar or empty ice cream container) and then write our blessings on scraps of paper (recycle) and fill the well one blessing at a time - I like it!
   
   
2. If one has a bike, is capable of riding and loves it, then brilliant. If not, then one must find an activity that is engaging and fulfilling. For me, it's being playful and creative for fun (as opposed to being creative for work). This morning I chose to colour in the well. I was completely absorbed, in the moment and most importantly I was using a part of my brain that doesn't get as much exercise as the other side that does all the thinking and worrying.
   
   
3. I also have moments when suggestions 1 and 2 don't work for me. This happens when I am in serious 'drought'. What I is I tell myself that every drop is progress. You know how a dripping tap can fill a sink? Same thing. One drop at a time, or as No. 2 suggested, "one pedal stroke at a time". I also look at what's emptying my well faster than I can fill it and takes steps in addressing it.
   
   
4. Spending time in the sun (without falling asleep and burning to a crisp, but that's another story) is brilliant for filling the well with vitamin D and increasing serotonin production. Nurturing something to grow in a patch of dirt sounds lovely, though I don't have a patch of dirt where I'm living right now, but am now considering adopting a plant next door.

Once again, thank you for your contributions.

Until tomorrow, keep filling the well and mend the leaks.

Grace xx

Sunday Sentence

"Years teach us more than books."

- Berthold Auerbach (1812 – 1882)