Blowing bubbles
Half term is rolling to the finish all too soon.
The children return to school tomorrow.
The house will be quiet and still.
The dogs and I will slowly find our rhythm once more and soon we will be happy in our gentle solitude.
But, I will miss those two noisy little beings, gone each day, from 9 'til 4. I will miss the laughter, the tears, the jokes and the squabbles, the busy silences and the frequent floor shows. I will long for the end of term yet, each half term, each summer break, each winter holiday, they grow a little older, a little further from me and it rather breaks my heart for I know that one day there will be no one blowing bubbles for my pleasure and amusement.
Half term is rolling to the finish all too soon.
The children return to school tomorrow.
The house will be quiet and still.
The dogs and I will slowly find our rhythm once more and soon we will be happy in our gentle solitude.
But, I will miss those two noisy little beings, gone each day, from 9 'til 4. I will miss the laughter, the tears, the jokes and the squabbles, the busy silences and the frequent floor shows. I will long for the end of term yet, each half term, each summer break, each winter holiday, they grow a little older, a little further from me and it rather breaks my heart for I know that one day there will be no one blowing bubbles for my pleasure and amusement.
Comments
Helen x
Blessings,
GG
My youngest daughter and I were picking elderflower last week, too. She insisted on making the cordial herself, though!