Some days are relatively normal and slow in how they begin, other days you’re all up earlier and before 10am three children are in the paddling pool – straight from pyjamas to swimsuits- and you’ve done a chicken photo shoot. The brainchild of your husband (he claims) and a joint effort in achieving photos with no chicks harmed.

It was a productive day today. Liam had the older three helping out whilst the younger ones were contained in the pool. Toby was on decking cleaning, Maisie on bench painting, and Megan painting in the summer house. Two out of three were grumpy, so we’re celebrating the one chirpy child as a win.

The less productive part was when I was on FaceTime to my mum, and Theo had an epic meltdown. I’m sure there are lots of reasons why, but it involved many calming strategies from Liam then me, and a good long while before he calmed down properly. All in a morning’s entertainment.

After lunch I set to work on a project I’d been scheming to try and help Maddie with the stress of choosing her clothes in the morning. I’d done a bit of research for some ideas, and decided to reorganise her cupboards so she can reach everything herself, and I would take out of the cupboard anything not appropriate for general wear. That way she knows she can get up and get her own clothes without the worry of getting it wrong. She was very happy at this plan and eager to help, so I got to work deconstructing the wardrobe and reshuffling the room. Which of course turned into a major sort out, as it always does. But my sister rang whilst I was knee deep in the books off the bookshelf, so I chatted whilst I worked.

We’re placing bets on how long the room looks like that for. I give it until 7am tomorrow.

At Ice cream time, the three younger ones could be found still in the pool, and I extracted the older three from the dark recesses of the house. Two situated themselves as lifeguards by the pool, and one opted for the shade, whilst practicing balancing, she said.

This evening’s entertainment was a fire pit with Megan, Maisie and Toby, including popcorn, marshmallow toasting, and S’mores. There was a fair amount of singing, a game of truth or dare where we couldn’t extract the truth from teenage girls, and a lot of laughter.

I do love summer nights.

I went for my end of week 3 run tonight, and I was feeling pretty fed up to be honest. I’d listened to Boris Johnson’s update, and was more than a little jealous of my family and friends in England, now able to hang out in the garden, whilst we’re still some weeks behind. It’s been 10.5 weeks now, and I would really love to hug my family and hang out with some friends.

I was running along telling God how fed up of it I was, when I looked up and saw the path ahead of me, stunning light streaming through the trees, the river glistening beside me.

And I started thinking about the Kingfishers. When I was growing up, my Dad had a legendary tale of the time he’d seen a kingfisher in the middle of a city, of all places. The story became familiar, but the part that stuck with me was just how special this memory was. And how precious that moment was. So although I’m far from being a bird watcher, I’d prick my ears up if people said there might be a kingfisher. To me, they were a rare sighting, something to be noted.

And then we moved next to a river, and Liam, told me he’d seen a kingfisher on the river right next to our house. So I kept looking, and eventually I started to see them too, from time to time.

Kingfishers still hold special meaning for me. My dad’s story holds its place in my heart, as does the memory of the family walk we took just after Dan died, where we all watched a Kingfisher in a tree as it flitted back and forth, a glimmer of hope in a pain wracked time. And I find myself now, every time we walk by the river, eyes open, watching above the water for the telltale flash of blue.

And it made me think about keeping my eyes open, to keep watching for the good. Whilst I’m distracted by my complaints, head down, pounding my feet on the path, I’m maybe missing the special moments right next to me. Whether it’s the light or the kingfishers or the small moments of joy in our family, or the kindness of another, or the ways in which we’ve been provided for, if I’m not looking, I’m going to miss the moments.

I get a sense that the days of my daily updates are numbered, as gradual changes to lockdown start to take place, and life may start to pick up again. But what I don’t want to change is the way that writing every day has helped me open my eyes. To the little details to be thankful for in the quiet days. To the goodness of God in the mundane moments. And the way it’s pushed me to keep seeking, to keep looking and listening for His presence in my home.

Whatever the weeks ahead hold, I know His plans are good, I know He hears when I call, and I know when I seek Him, I see Him.

11 ‘For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.
12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.
13 You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.’ – Jeremiah 29:11-13