It must be August again....

Did I mention me and August have a bit of a love/hate relationship?

August is a month that's probably good for my soul but hard on my heart. I'll apologise in advance if you feel like you've read this blog entry before from me - you probably have .

August is a month surrounded by memories of my Dad - his birthday, my mum's birthday, the date of his death and funeral, father's day - but then whoooosh, it's over for another year.

And because it's compounded, you can't really just get on with life and pretend nothing happened. I think this August has hit me just recently with the awful loss of other people, others remembering their children passing, friends with terminal cancer, a mother in my knitting community losing her toddler to SIDs, the toddler nephew of a friend of mine's little heart and body fighting to hang in there.

And then there's my house on the market, with it's 5 year old little blossom tree growing, getting ready to flower. A tree that popped up just after my Dad died that I wanted to leave and let grow and bloom when it was suggested we dig it out or chop it down. A tree that I love to see in my garden, that would make me very sad if future owners chopped down.

And then whilst looking for real estate these days I happened upon this. My family home for what feels like my lifetime before leaving home...and even continued past then for when I came home for summer holidays and visiting. We moved in when I was 2, in 1980 and it was sold to the current owner in 2005 from memory. It doesn't look much the same anymore tbh, well, besides the shape and functions of house and rooms. But what a super childhood I had living there with my mum, dad, sisters and brother.

Just seeing it makes me wish I could turn the clock back and just go lie on the floor of the lounge with my siblings watching tv and making too much noise whilst Dad was trying to watch the news and Mum was knitting.

If only, even just for a little moment we could.