Our flowers

Reuben had a hearing test today and therein lies the irony. Tonight, we lost the hearing aid, and had to return to this location twice to this location at night with a flashlight to try and find it. It's a tiny little thing. Thanking God that it makes a sound when disconnected from the hair band. In the past, I've found it by clicking through 100s of photos, locating where I can and can't see it on the shots on one occasion in a huge pumpkin and hay field.

These will always be our flowers; we wish them good morning on our drives to school and good afternoon upon our arrival home. We wish them goodnight as we leave when the sun has set and the cool ocean air leaves its dew upon their petals as they cuddle up inside themselves for the evening. They are very dear to us. In the mornings to come, their water source will dry and they will hibernate for the summer, giving way to the more succulent pink and yellow ice plants across from them. To have both in bloom at the same time would just be too visually arresting. So they take it in turns.

Am delighted to be organising a shootout with a large group of photographers, makeup and hair artists in LA in honour of Mother's Day, which here lies in May, the month of Mary. The creative idea is to focus on the woman without her children in all her beautiful forms. The dynamic changes in the presence of children. Arms can only be in one place at a time and on this occasion, they need to be helping with her S curves. Perhaps we should take a few style tips on legs from Angelina. Or perhaps not...