Felicity’s News
May 2026
Life here has been full, noisy, emotional, creative and, as usual, slightly overrun by wool, family, garden plans and the daily logistics of loving people properly.
Paul and I have stayed fairly close to home lately. We cancelled a recent Melbourne trip and will head down later in the year instead. Paul is slower these days, but he still enjoys being in the garden, and there is something very dear about helping him potter about happily among plants, tools and fresh air. Dementia changes many things, but moments of pleasure and purpose still matter enormously.
The family continues to provide endless material for stories. David has been in hospital but is now preparing to head home again, and I am very proud of how he is finding his feet. Families are complicated creatures, but love remains the main ingredient even when everyone is tired, worried or occasionally cross with one another.
There has also been knitting. Naturally.
I have been plotting jumpers, cardigans, shawls, cables, colour palettes and practical “walking the dog and dashing to IGA” garments. One successful shawl has, predictably, led to thoughts of another. The wool cupboard remains dangerously inspirational.
I have also spent time thinking about colour, texture and what actually suits me now rather than what merely looks attractive in a skein. Practical elegance still wins in the end. Some yarns may be luxurious, but old faithful wool that survives family life, grandchildren, dogs and decades still has my heart.
The garden is beginning to reveal its possibilities too. I can see the future already: summer meals on the back veranda, children splashing in the pool, cubby-house adventures, barbecue smoke drifting through warm evenings, dogs underfoot and grandchildren running everywhere.
Grandma’s house.
The house where things happen.
There has also been a changing of the guard in the animal department. Poppy and Zinnie have moved on to their next chapter, leaving behind their usual mixture of affection, fur and mild household supervision. Then, Zoe died unexpectedly. In their place have arrived Tom and Molly, who are already settling into family life and investigating exactly how much chaos two animals can add to an already lively household. The humans remain convinced they are in charge. The animals, naturally, hold different opinions.
There have been family photographs, birthday breakfasts, old memories, new babies growing, stories from the past resurfacing and many conversations about the family book I am slowly piecing together. It is becoming a mixture of memoir, genealogy, humour, craft, motherhood, survival and organised chaos.
Not polished.
But alive.
Molly
Tom
And perhaps that is the best kind of family history anyway.
