I am grateful for my nieces who know me so well. And for my perfect gift. I still chuckle over a family conversation my sister shared with me when both the girls were little. The details are a bit murky but in essence my brother-in-law out of frustration one day when they weren’t listening to him, said seriously girls, who’s the boss. And the littlest one, in all seriousness said, Lianne is! Okay so I’ve always had control issues, but I’m working on them. And my intentions are always pure. They are. So today I am so grateful for my wonderful family and how tolerant they are of me. And the wonderful sense of humour we all share.
Author Archives: lianne cawood
two hundred and eighty three
There is something about women and how we share. I am grateful to be surrounded by women who choose to celebrate life. In all its weird and wonderful and challenging ways. And for friends who genuinely open their hearts and their homes. ( And their champagne bottles). Even (or especially) on a school night.
two hundred and eighty two
I am grateful for my new tote. Just as it reminded my friend of our special times, of our special group, it does me too. And just as she so often thinks about us all, I do too. I am grateful for those days, for those exquisitely precious moments, for lives shared, for the kindness, the irreverence, the laughter, the tears, the wisdom, the wine fuelled madness. I am so very grateful for forever friends.
what is this
Mummy bloggers. Fuck I hate that phrase. It’s so condescending, sexist and all kind of wrong. Not the words but the dismissive way in which the label is always used. But it’s only a label, and you all know me, I think labels suck. You are what you are who cares what they choose to call you or label you. Labels are words and you are not words you are how you behave. I have also started living more and more by my oft repeated mantra, the cease your relentless participation thing. I often do choose now not to participate. Because I can. I chose not to last night when they had a thing on Media Watch on ‘mummy bloggers’. Because I’m not one. Not really. Although I am a mummy. And I sort of blog. And because I knew it was going to irritate me on behalf of those who are and who I spend more time with now. Irritate me because of how generally dismissive mainstream media are of bloggers. Well ‘mummy bloggers’. Even when they’re pretending not to be. By bloggers I’m meaning those who it seems have a long term goal of sorts. Whether simply to measure their success by increasing their followers, their page views, or sharing their experience to benefit others. Or those with a commercial goal. Even if just to fund their ongoing blogging. So I chose not to watch for many reasons … one my pissed offness, two my feeling of maybe I should be taking this more seriously and mostly three, it would force me to think about what this is. But then I watched it via Woogsworlds blog, I do love the irony, and I thought about it. What this is. I’m not really a blogger. Really. This is just me for a year focussing on all the things I’m grateful for. And mostly the gift of life itself. It’s for me. It’s out there (a little) because that forces me to continue. I have to complete my year. I do not want to comment on other’s blogs just to increase my page views. I want to comment on other blogs because I like what they say and I want to share what I think. I want to remain authentic. It bothers me enough when I see if I put fuck in a title I get more page views, because suddenly it seems thats why I do it, but I do it because thats how I speak. I don’t want to read someone’s blog and suddenly feel let down by her inauthencity when she oh so subtly recommends I buy this or this because she swears by it but its clear she’s paid to say that. It’s disingenuous. No matter how many times she says she doesn’t take on brands she doesn’t relate to. I think I spent too many years in advertising, I am a tad jaded. Sadly, everyone has a price. The choice is ours to read or not. But I understand why its done. I just don’t want to. And there are ways to do it (ads on blogs are preferable to sponsored posts in my view) and those ‘mummy bloggers’ (damn I struggled to find the right descriptor for these fabulous women some journalists some not some career women some not with children who write and share online) who keep their authenticity will get all my page views. So blogging as a business is not for me but I love the big up yours these talented inspiring women are giving to the mainstream media. I love what they share. I love their truth. Just not when it gets smudged a bit.
two hundred and eighty one
two hundred and eighty
two hundred and seventy nine
20 October. I am grateful that even though we know we are searching for something that doesn’t exist, we are having fun doing it. A lakeside pause, a mad moment of lets just effing buy the rambling lake house with far too many bedrooms and lovely vine covered patios for long long lunches. I am grateful for the mad fleeting moment in which I imagine myself being the floaty free stylish and abundantly and effortlessly able mi casa es su casa serene mama of the Lake House. Yeah right.
two hundred and seventy eight
two hundred and seventy seven
18 October. I am spoilt. Most of us are. And I have embraced change. I have. I just don’t do windows. I love saying that. There really is nothing I wouldn’t do but windows. Okay and ironing. So today I’m grateful for crystal clean windows. And not just the concept, but the company. I am grateful for Crystal Clean Windows today because they made my windows crystal clean. I love that. So obvious its perfect. A bit like The Cleana. I digress again. So I am grateful I can see clearly now. So what if it’s only a bi annual thing. I always was far too anal anyway.
two hundred and seventy six
I am grateful for our little unit. And for silver linings. No house help, no nannies, no gardeners and no family close by seemed like an alien world. And it was. But it’s a world where we are closer, are more present and are stronger as a unit. And not only because we have to be, but because we choose to be.








