Frenchtown Woman's Athletic Club

So I started a woman’s athletic club.
Anyone who knew me as a young person would laugh out loud at the absurdity of the above statement. I was not a joiner I was a big believer in the Groucho Marx quote “I don't want to belong to any club that would accept people like me as a member” And I did not do sports. Dance, yoga maybe but competitive sports forget about it. I already felt awkward, clumsy and was pretty sure I was a loser, who needed more confirmation.  I had bought into the folly of young women everywhere that one needs to be naturally good at things to do them. When of course playing sport with a supportive group would probably have been the perfect antidote.

With time comes wisdom. I have become a huge convert to two things; regular exercise (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, no pun intended, it’s a game changer) and the idea that it’s great to do things you suck at.  (please read Karen Rinaldi article (It’s Great to) Suck at Something because what she said)

 A few months ago I ran across an article about a woman who had started a pickup basketball game in New York.  It inspired me, I’ve always loved watching basketball, but never even tried to shoot a basket. Again I’d been held back by the notion that incompetency was a barrier to entry. Playing games with other people is fantastic fun why should not being good be an impediment to having a good time. I’ve noticed it rarely seems to stop men.

My husband James started playing squash regularly in his late 30s. He was not good, but it didn't stop him. He made a diverse group of friends through playing, has had some pretty great squash related experience all-around the world.  It keeps him fit, it's a fantastic stress reliever, and most importantly it brings him joy.

 I am also a recent convert to the idea that life can be hard as hell so you should seek out joy wherever you can.  So I decided to start an athletic club in my town, where women could get together and play sports with no pressure and no skill required. I was basically trying to create a supportive environment where I could play all the games that I never got to as a teenager and have all the advantages of being a member of a team without the downsides of actually having to play competitively.  We recently had our first softball game. It was everything that I hoped it would be and more. An amazing bunch of women showed up and really got into the just for fun spirit. I hit a softball with a bat for the first time in my life.  Some of us sucked way more than others, and nobody cared. It was really fun and brought me a lot of joy. 

If want to know more or want to join you can go to the club’s website here or follow us on Facebook or Instagram.

It’s Environmental

I've noticed a recent surge in my joking about climate change on social media with missives like “This Chinese conspiracy has gotten out of control” when my freesias have come up early after a spate of 70° days is in March only to be killed the next day by a snowstorm.

 However, something else is happening to me that cannot be as easily dismissed with a tweet. I have been experiencing a bunch of health issues that have a common theme; my body is growing things that it shouldn’t.
 A year ago I had to have fibroids removed from my uterus. I’ve just been through a protracted bruising bloody process to determine that the thing in my left breast is benign and will just have to be watched.  Today I have to have an atypical mole (medical speak for that thing is heading to melanoma town) removed surgically from my face. I also have a cyst on one of my ovaries that also has to be watched.
 After my gynecologist told me that my fibroids were caused by an excess of estrogen in my system, which is the opposite of what usually happens to women my age, I naturally asked why that was happening and how I could stop it? She said without missing a beat “ It’s most likely environmental.”  She has seen a steep increase of women in my situation in her practice.  “What could I do about it, never drink from plastic, don’t handle receipts, avoid processed soy, take supplements to try and regulate my hormones.  Then the urbane New York Doctor shrugged her shoulders and said: “Look there so many endocrine disruptors in the environment that there’s really not a whole lot you can do about it.”
The mole removal, my latest adventure in” it's not cancer, but it has to come out”  is most likely ( like really really likely)  to be a legacy of growing up in Australia.  I get a pretty universal confirmation of this every time I meet a dermatologist. They get a look on their face when they hear my accent followed with a quick intake of air when I confirm their fear, yes I grew up in Australia.  Not endocrine disruptors this time but environmental. The ozone layer over Australia has significantly thinned.  There has been a 5 to 9% depletion over Australia since 1966.  It was at its worse during the 80s and 90s just in time for me to get that pre-eighteen childhood, cancer increasing UV sun exposure.  You may remember that this coincided with the discovery of the Arctic ozone hole, well the good news is “Prospects for the long-term recovery of the ozone layer are good. Non-essential consumption of major ozone-depleting substances ceased for developed countries in 1996, and for developing countries in 2010. Scientists predict that if the international community continues to comply with the Montreal Protocol, the ozone layer should recover to pre-1980 levels between 2050 and 2065.”   So yay look what we can do when humans get together and do the right thing. Unfortunately for me, the damage is done, and I am in a high-risk group that dermatologists recommend have full body checks every three months.  Oh and hey did I mention ( I know I have) that when they scrape the cells off suspicious looking spots to test them, they then cauterize your skin with a mini blowtorch.

So I take my supplements and never drink from plastic or touch receipts. I exercise, I try to eat well and I do all my check ups like clockwork. I tell myself that this is just the price of aging. But these medical interventions take a toll.  They cost time, money, peace of mind and sometimes actual flesh and blood.   And that’s the cost to very privileged me, who has pretty good health insurance and can afford to never drink from plastic. Thinking about the costs to marginalized communities is overwhelming.  When I think about the environment protections that we have now being rolled back and the EPA being decimated I just want to throw myself on the ground and cry.  All I can think is that millions of us are going to pay dearly for a very few to make a lot of money in the short term, with catastrophic consequences for the future. I know this to be true on a cellular level because I am literally growing a body of evidence.

Now I am Fourty Five

Now I am forty-five:

After experimenting with every screenplay writing method known to humanity, I finally have a system that works for me. It involves lots of legal pads and Uniball pens that I buy in bulk from Amazon basics, totally disregarding my inner critic and no freaking index cards.

 I can confirm to you with absolute certainty that the hype is real; regular exercise makes life so much better, like for real.

 I know I will never permanently give up coffee.

 Self-care and maintenance have become a part time job. I have a person, exercise, cream, pill or herb for everything. My breasts have their own doctor. My vagina has two medical professionals in its employ. Which is the very least it deserves after giving birth to two 12-pound babies. ( yes that is 2x12)  I need an elaborate system for all my supplements.  I’ve laid in the dermatologist office with mini ice packs on my face after having my capillaries lasered and had my skin cauterized with a small blow torch after having moles biopsied.  I take all my annuals seriously, and many of them have turned into bi-annuals or quarterlies.   It takes a lot of time and effort to keep this thing up and running.  Getting old is not for the faint-hearted.  But I would never trade the inconvenience of aging for the wisdom and peace of mind I’ve gained. (see next)

 I’ve finally made friends with myself. I put down the heavy burden of self-flagellation and stopped saying the mantra of “not good enough.” Not that I don’t do things that infuriate or embarrass me or find myself painfully awkward at times. (Hello, having one glass too many and telling people things that don’t need to be said, usually more than once, like five seconds later.)  However like a good friend I am now forgiving. I still love myself despite my foibles and sometimes even because of them. I wish I could tell you when and how this happened. That it was therapy, yoga, meditation or some other esoteric practice. That it was a moment of insight at sunset on a remote beach that changed everything but I can’t.  I just noticed one day that I wasn’t lugging around the rock of self-loathing anymore and life was way easier.  That more often than not these days I think I’m pretty great.  Don’t get me wrong I’ve done or still do therapy, yoga, meditation, etc. I have found some combination of them over the years more than helpful.  I’ve already preached the life changing properties of exercise and if your thinking about getting a dog, do it!  I’m sure it has all helped me to get to my current state of mind. However Mother Time's influence can not be overstated.  If there were one thing, that she has given me that I wish I could gift to my daughter this would be it.

 I’m still not very good at tying my shoelaces, and I don’t know how to blow dry my hair properly, you know so it looks good.

Things That Would Never Happen To Me Professionally If I had a Penis.

In the face of the epidemic of violence against women and the denial of our basic right to have agency of our own bodies, it feels self-indulgent to whine about the small indignities I have to face in my otherwise pretty freaking awesome and privileged life.  But the small stuff I face day to day is indicative of the larger picture. I use to dislike talking about being a woman working in the film & TV industry. I would joke that the only downside I had encountered being a female director was that male directors seemed to get offered way more sex than me. I wanted everyone to stop talking about my gender and let me make another movie already.  I realize now that is a losing strategy, and if we want anything to change we have to speak up.  Also some recent events have really freaking pissed me off.  So for what it's worth, here is my list of "Things that would never happen to me professionally if I had a penis" Maybe some of it will make you laugh if it doesn't make you cry

No one would think I was given an opportunity because of my gender.
In complete defiance of logic, more than one of my white male classmates (the majority of the class) at film school told me "It will be easier for you to get funding because the funding bodies want to finance women filmmakers. " While they, poor loves, would have to compete for funding based solely on their ability.

I would not be talked about in meetings while I am still in the room.
Here are some gems for your enjoyment;
‘She looks like a girl, how does that work on set."
"She is too attractive to be a director."
"She looks very young."
"She's not actually that young.  She has two children".
 "She is very funny. She should be writing comedy."

My appearance would not be discussed at meetings.
This has happened at every "Hollywood" meeting I have ever been to.  Every single one, every single time.

I would not be asked how a location shoot is going to affect my family and how was I going to "make that work."                                                                                                                                                               My husband says that if there is going to be a lot of travel or a relocation involved, he asks all potential hires how that is going to work with their family. I don't think he is representative of the norm (that's why I married him) I also know that male directors are never asked about their child care arrangements.

No one would discuss what and how much I eat.
I got teased about this article for years. It's not only journalists. It has been discussed at lunch and dinner meeting and by crew at the craft table.

No one would ask me if a colleague took on a lot of the "responsibility" (The DOP or Co-Writer for instance) and imply that I am taking credit for their work.

No one would think that it was unusual or cool that I like genre films. I wouldn't hear "Wow you know a lot about horror films." 

A studio executive would not feel the need to put me back in my place because I used a word he didn't know.
 It was just like that scene in Reality Bites where Winona Ryder is asked to define irony. Except in some weird studio executive jujitsu swaparoo move, I had used the word, knew what it meant, and I was the one that ended up feeling humiliated. The huge irony, the word he asked me to define was solipsistic. He jokingly said he knew what it meant but that he thought he's more junior African-American colleague probably didn't. Ha ha ha. This still may have happened if I was a dude, but I doubt it. In the remaining hideously uncomfortable minutes of the meeting, the words ‘commercial' ‘board popular appeal' and ‘accessible to a large audience' were used an inordinate number of times.  And it was clear I was never taking another meeting there again. In a not so side note: The project that I was pitching for was put into turnaround by the studio because they didn't think there was an audience for a sophisticated retelling of a fairytale, where the main character was a solipsistic teenage girl.

I would not be asked all the time if I am interested in acting.  
This happens to me less now I am of a certain age. It is often said to me as a form of flattery (oh you're so attractive and engaging. You could act) sort of in the same way male actors are flattered by being asked if they want to direct.

Things I say would not have to be repeated by a male colleague to be heard.
This manifests its self in two ways.  The first AD having to repeat what I've said before the crew act on it and people thinking someone else in the room had my idea. i.e. " What he said about X was really clever" when I had said the clever thing about X. This cartoon is so true to my experience it hurts.

I wouldn't get sent moronic and totally misogynistic scripts because the producers think if they can get a woman to direct it will be considered controversial, and they can make a quick buck.  Just to be clear guys, having women create images of their own degradation is never “subversive” or “empowering” it just, adds another level of "ugh really". Yes porn industry and pop music I am looking at you

Ladies, please join me in this cathartic list making. Put your list of "Things that would never happen to me professionally if I had a penis" in the comments. You don't have to work in film and TV. Sadly I am sure this works for every profession.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a momentfrom the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

In Praise Of Letting Things Fall Apart

‘THINGS HAVE TO FALL APART SO THAT BETTER THINGS CAN FALL TOGETHER” – Marilyn Monroe

So it turns out I am a pretty crap blogger. Things got a little hard and rendered me useless. To be clear, on a scale of “your shower is leaking and it takes a month to fix” to “you must flee your home because ISIS is coming” life was not that hard.

There was the shower saga. There was Lyme’s disease. (For me that equaled just over a month of feeling like death warmed up) Lots of travel (fun but disruptive) and a cockroach war (we seem to be winning, but they have not fully surrendered yet.)

But before all that was the winter of my discontent. The winter was cold and hard. It was clear our daughter was really unhappy. A miserable teenager is a dark force. Luckily our clever, self-aware girl came to us with a solution " Boarding School." 

Not a solution I was initially in love with. I had to wrap my mind around it, and there was a lot of work involved.  There was the steep learning curve. There was a lot traveling involved. As anyone who has ever applied to anything knows, there was also a lot of paperwork. As well making sure Paloma was prepared for her test and wrote all the personal essays. It become pretty clear pretty quickly that this would be a great thing for Paloma but coming to terms with my complex feelings about it took a little longer.

I felt overwhelmed and depleted. Doing the simplest thing felt like undertaking a herculean task.

 I did the opposite of everything that you’re supposed to do in when you’re feeling like that. I stopped doing my yoga practice; I ate and drank lots of all the wrong things. I let the house and myself go. Things got messy, hairy and unproductive.  I could only manage the things most important at that moment; taking care of children, the dog, writing that had deadlines (Um I missed a few, thank goodness for lovely patient producers) 

There was something liberating about letting everything go. It was what I needed. I needed to get fat, unkempt, watch TV and plod through the day like a boated grumpy bear. Until I needed something else.  Not that I knew it at the time. I made myself miserable thinking about what I should be doing. Oh, that special self-induced suffering of just not accepting what the f*ck is and forgetting the great universal law; Nothing is permanent, change is inevitable.

Paloma in her dorm on the 1st day of school.

 Slowly things got a little easier. Paloma started school, and she loves it. I started exercising again and eating better. One day it felt like I just put down the bag of cinder blocks I had been carrying around. I fell back in love with my yoga practice and started doing strength work. I want to be strong like Hercules for the next bag of bricks. (oh you know it’s coming, because life) I had help deep cleaning the house and have started a decluttering project care of The Kondo Method. (Who knew I was treating my socks so badly by balling them in my draw) I went blonde and started a new spec script project. 

Inspiration for new project

Life feels easy and fun again. Not like the soul-crushing obligation it felt like a few months before.  It really does feel like everything had to fall apart so that something better could fall together.  Hopefully, that will also translate to this here blog.

Blonde in a hotelroom

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Walk The Dog

This morning was one of those mornings. It was snowing. I couldn't get certain teenager out the door, and she missed her bus. We discovered we might have another leak. I had to drive Paloma to school and could only give James a lift part of the way to his bus, leaving him to walk and wait in the snow. When I got home, I only had half the amount of time to get Ronan and his stuff for ski club out of the door. Thermals and long sleeved tops could not be found and had to be fished out of the wash. Then at the last minute Ronan revealed that he cleaned out his locker yesterday, and his school bag was filled with stinky (make you gag stinky) old lunch containers and rotten food. We managed to make it to drop off with the ski equipment and minus the stinky fossilized food. Only to find out that ski club is canceled today due to how freezing cold the afternoon and evening is going to be. All of this before 8:30 AM

Then I took the dog out for a walk.  Today we went to Frenchtown Park. It was cold, and my cheeks (whole face) were pink by the time I got back to the car.  It’s a quiet snowy wonderland in the cold. The only sounds are the river flowing under the ice, and the songs of the plump winterized birds. My favorite to spot in winter is the cardinal it’s red plumage a shock of color in a monochrome world. We see evidence of other creatures’ footsteps in the snow but never see them in person. Just like that walking in the woods with this furry, floppy eared thing of nature like magic some equilibrium is restored.

With the exception of a heavy downpour, Apollo is excited to walk in any weather. His enthusiasm always overrides any hesitations I have about having to take him out.  I am always better for having taken a walk with him.  When the winter is feeling wearing, and I’m not sure I can take another weather event and it all feels a bit hard, it’s wonderful to be reminded that nature has no preference. It’s all beautiful, different, new and exciting whatever the weather.

At this time of year when I feel like I'm suffering not so much from seasonal affective disorder and as seasonal effectiveness disorder. My walks with Apollo offers the additional benefit of  giving me the feeling I did something good. If nothing else gets accomplished in a day at least, I took the dog out.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

After snowmageddon

After all the hype, the Snowpocalypse was a bit of a bust here in Frenchtown New Jersey.  The kids got two days of school, and it totally put the kibosh on my New York City birthday dinner plans. Then it didn’t even have the decency to be the storm of the century.

It actually turned out to be a pretty perfect birthday celebration. James was home early, I made a cake, we ate zucchini pasta and watched Downton Abbey while it snowed lightly outside. The best part we all got to sleep as late as we wanted the next day.

Ronan spent most of the time in his PJs. Paloma watched several seasons of Parks and Recreation.  James spent a lot of time on conference calls. I did a lot of nothing. I thought I might be coming down with some sort of blizzard induced mental malaise. I saw light therapy in my future. It turns out that I was just coming down with a normal head pounding, sore throat, nauseating garden-variety common illness.  Phew.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Notes On a Long Weekend

The long weekend managed to feel both eventful and quite, lazy and full.  I guess that happens on long winter weekends in the country

Saturday I spent the day at Hunterdon County Superior Court watching Paloma’s mock trial team win two out of three of their cases. They made it through to the county finals. The school hasn’t had a team for few years, so it was this all girls team’s first time competing ever! They went in the underdogs and came out the team to beat. It was fun to watch them in action.

Then Miss CeCe came to stay. She brought me this amazing early birthday gift.  Now I just have to learn to use it. In the meantime, it looks pretty cool in the skybrary.

Sunday it rained ice all day. I took Apollo out although my iphone was very against me going out on the road. It kept blaring alerts at me and telling me to go inside and watch the local news. We don't have a TV, I am unable to communicate this to my phone. We spent the rest of the day indoors in a rainy day haze. Cindy and I watched a documentary about a men's synchronized swimming team in Sweden. I totally forgot about the washing I had put on. It was just one of those days.  Then in the evening the grownups ventured out on the icy roads for a very pleasant meal at the Golden Pheasant Inn.

On Monday, we thought a lot about the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, studied for midterms and folded washing.

One of the nicest surprises of the weekend was getting to see the final cut of this video clip for the lovely talent Elspeth Tremblay’s gorgeous song Sun of All Parts.

We shot it on old super eight stock at The Giving Pond on a lovely Saturday afternoon.  It has a hazy, dreamy feeling. (a lot like this weekend) Apollo also makes an appearance if you need any more prompting to check it out.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

How’s it going? How is 2015 treating you? I have to admit I haven’t really got the hang of it yet. I know some people love the New Year, new beginnings and all that. I find this time of year a tad challenging.  I slipped on the stairs last night and hurt my foot.  I started my day hobbling around feeling sorry for my self and out of sorts.

But then I got to drop a very very excited 11-year-old off at school with his skis. This evening is the first of Ronan’s school ski club trips.  Ronan is over the moon about every detail; getting to ski with his school friends, getting to buy his dinner at the hill and not getting back until 10pm. “ I may be so tired I might fall asleep on the bus and you’ll have to carry me to the car” he says with glee.

Next I take Apollo to the dog park. It’s busy by Frenchtown standards and the puppy from down the road, Pepper, has joined us.  Apollo can barely contain himself.  He bounds out of the car and does his little dance of excitement and impatience at the gate. Then leaps around the park in a very good imitation of Tiger.

This is it, the major perk of having children and pets around. They take such absolute unabashed joy in things, and you get to bask in it for a moment.  Until you go back to worrying about your time managements skills and how it's possible for a human woman over forty to be so clumsy.

Weekend Update

Hey, how was your weekend?

My car needed a jumpstart on Saturday morning.  The tow truck driver was really cold.  He said that he had been working all night and that he was going to be working the rest of the day too because he was covering another guy's shift. He got the car started right away. Thanks hard working tow truck driver.  

Saturday night I nearly choked to death on a bit of raw brussel sprout. Well, nearly died is probably a bit of an exaggeration. There was lots of coughing, not being able to breath and vomiting.  It was the most dramatic thing that happen all weekend, so that’s not bad really.

Paloma had her first ski races of the season.  James and Paloma get up really early every Saturday and Sunday for Paloma to train or race, which I find impressive.  Also, impressive is the ski-tuning nook that James set up in the basement this weekend.  

There were also dog walks taken and loads of washing done. I cooked veggie Shepherds pie and beef shepherds pie. What would you call that?  Cowboy pie? I also made gluten free gnocchi. 

I have to admit I was feeling a bit sad about the world and us humans over the weekend. I find making gnocchi very soothing if one is feeling a bit blah. It doesn’t solve any of the world’s problems, but it's satisfying to make and also good to eat.

{this moment}

oday, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Hi hi.  I hope you had a good end to your year and a lovely start to the new one.

I think we can all agree that so far I’ve been a crap ass blogger. A couple photos and a post about my dog, not really an auspicious start.

I didn't write about my trip to Australia. My first time back in my homeland for years.  I went to see my sister, who is going through the heartbreak of losing her love. Did I mention I think cancer sucks elephant balls? Well cancer sucks elephant balls.  I didn’t write about how amazing she is and what an honor it is to be able to show up for someone when life is hard and heart braking. Well, she is amazing, and it is.

I didn't write about how long it took to get over the jet leg. Or my weekend spent with a sick Ronan watching Bletchley Circle and how fun it was to watch an 11-year-old boy get into a series about smart ladies.  HA to all the executives that ever told me guys will not watch stories about women.

I didn't write that post about how everyone in Frenchtown really gets into decorating their houses for Christmas and how nice it is to drive around at night and see the lights.  It feels very "It's a Wonderful Life". I wonder who the Jimmy Stewart of Frenchtown is.

I didn't write about our Christmas trip to Zermatt Switzerland. I didn't muse about how amazing it is to be up there in the highest peaks in Switzerland. How it makes one feel small and in awe while simultaneously makes one feel huge and part of the wonders of the universe.

I didn't write my travel bloggy post about how skiing in Zermatt is all about skiing to lunch. I had some of the best meals I've had in a long time in the slopes side restaurants.  If you've experienced the chips and chili on a plastic tray dining in the ski resorts of North America, you will know exactly how mind blowing that last statement is.  (Yes yes, I know rich people problems)

If you ever find yourself hungry near the Matterhorn, three of my favorites are Zum Zee, Fluhalp and Chelet des Etoiles

I didn't share that the apartment, we stayed in, was at the end of a very steep narrow street called Steinmattschleif that we rename Stairmaster Street. Or that a good time was had by all. As we watched the fireworks go off from our balcony on New Years Eve, we all felt very grateful to be there.

I didn't write a saccharine post about how nice it is to travel but how it's really lovely to come home and get to see your dog.  Though I could've done without the six loads of washing. I didn't bore anyone with more of my jet lag woes “It didn't use to affect me so badly now I feel like it’s trying to kill me.”

BUT it's a new year. I'm back with good intentions of really making go of this bloggy business.  It requires commitment and discipline, and I could use a little more of both at the moment. As someone who works on projects for years that may not see the light of day, or more specifically be seen on a screen, some instant gratification wouldn’t go astray either.

So here goes.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

{this moment}

Today, a Friday ritual from Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment  from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.