FOR HIS MOTHER

He wore his whites for his mother.

Arms akimbo, cheeks flushed, he stood his ground to tremendous applause. The cricketing whites: a snug jersey - number 07 - pulled taut over his tightly muscled torso, pads, gloves. The helmet snapped firmly on to his head, he bent slightly at the knees, stomping the ground with his right leg, bat in hand, slowly swinging it, testing, as if poised for flight.

The applause rent the air, as his bat connected with the hapless ball for his maiden six runs.

His mother, watching from the heavens, would be proud.

MY VANISHING ACT

While there have been stories to tell - and consequently loads to blog - I know I've not been doing the best job marrying the two recently. The thing is, the head's full of home renovation plans - paint, furniture, new windows, carpeting... and this is my cue to melt into one gasping puddle of ecstasy. =) Life. Just. Took. Such. A. Fun. Turn.

Will soon be back, with stories from the past few weeks, and from home renovation too. Pictures as well, of course. After all, what's life without a little loads of colour?

P.S.: Here's a quick dekko into the past few weeks, while I'm at it - Some lovely fabric (for clothes) shopping has been done! And a few fun crafts for a very close friend's son also worked upon (uh, okay, only in my head as of now). Books have been purchased! A couple of weekend getaways with the significant other have happened! Ah.