Butterfly Cakes and Parenting Skills

‘NO, and that’s my final word.’

Sarah was irritable. Her twin daughters, Lucy and Annie, had been arguing with her for almost fifteen minutes. They had been invited to their best friend’s Amy teen-theme birthday party the following Saturday. The problem was she would be eight; the same age as the twins.

The girls stomped off to their bedroom just as the telephone rang. Sarah took a deep breath and released it slowly.

‘Hello.’ Rubbing her forehead, she leaned against the wall to ease the weariness that threatened to overtake her.

‘Well, you sound happy.’ It was Connie, Amy’s mother.

‘Hello Connie. I’m sorry, sometimes I find parenting a little stressful.’

‘You? Of all people Sarah. You’re a great parent. You always seem to have it all under control.’

‘Well not today. What can I do for you?’

‘I was just checking if the girls are coming on Saturday.’

‘Actually, it was the party we were discussing. I just don’t feel the theme is appropriate for eight-year-olds. Peter and I made the decision a long time ago that they are not to attend a party which goes against our values.’

Sarah cringed as she realized what she had said. Connie was a good friend who attended the same church.

Connie sighed on the other end of the phone. ‘Can I be frank with you?’

‘Sure, we’re friends.’

‘It was Amy’s suggestion. In fact, she demanded it. Honestly, I have been trying to keep the peace around here. We received a letter from her teacher last week concerning Amy’s rebellious behaviour.’

Sarah made herself busy at the stove.

Connie continued. ‘Yesterday, we went shopping to buy her an outfit for the party. I have never been so embarrassed. Her performance was appalling. She insisted on purchasing the skimpiest pair of shorts I have ever seen and the top barely covered her. There wasn’t enough material to cover her navel.’ Connie’s voice reached an intense pitch.

Sarah stirred the contents of the saucepan. ‘Lord, why is it so hard to do what is right as a parent?’

‘Sarah, why does parenting have to be so hard?’

‘I don’t think any parent finds it easy Connie. We aren’t born with the skills either. We all have to learn them—’

Connie resumed talking before Sarah could finish. ‘I was just telling my mother yesterday that I remember some of my own childhood birthday celebrations. We used to dress up in our Sunday best and eat those yummy cakes. You know those little ones? The ones you make so well. You scoop out the little piece from the top, and then add just the right size dollop of cream, before cutting that extra piece in half and sitting it in just the right spot on top, then sprinkling icing sugar over them to give it that perfect sweetness.’

‘Butterfly cakes?’ Sarah smiled at Connie’s description. ‘It almost sounds like parenting skills. You need just the right balance to get it right.’ She laughed at her own illustration.

‘Oh Sarah, I just had a marvelous idea. Why don’t I call all the parents and tell them I’ve changed the theme? It will be a good, old-fashion party for an eight-year-old girl. They can all dress in their Sunday best and you could make butterfly cakes. I think it’s about time I initiated some parenting skills. The first thing I’ll introduce is Christian values.’

Sarah laughed. ‘All right. I’ll talk to Peter tonight. He should be happy with the change, and yes, I think it’s a wonderful idea. Bye.’

‘Goodbye Sarah.’

Sarah was still smiling long after she hung up the phone. She turned to see the twins standing at the door, their arms folded stiffly.
‘What’s so wonderful?’ Annie asked sourly.

‘Well, first of all, go and get the flower-girl dresses you wore to Uncle Tony’s wedding and put them on the sewing table. Then, we need to start on some parenting skills.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Lucy was totally confused.
‘I’m going to bake some butterfly cakes, and you two can help. It’s never too early to learn.’

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Christian Reads by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

Coronalization — by The Christian Poet

Worth the read.
via Coronalization — The Christian Poet

My son come near Listen to your father, Sometime ago Countries colonised others People fought hard for freedom And for some time we tossed into freedom, We build gabions to prevent any form of colonisation in the future, Laws, boundaries and independence were engraved in our nations When the goods started flowing in Then we […]

via Coronalization — The Christian Poet

The Rider and His Horse

Prickly wind struck his face repeatedly like razors and sweat stung his eyes as his horse zigzagged down the steep mountain. With every frightening turn he clutched the reins that were wrapped tightly round his raw and bleeding fists. His partly bare knees ached as they gripped firmly against the saddle, still his horse hurtled on further with sweat dripping from every inch of its petrified body.

The rider hung on frantically. With no power of control, they careered toward the valley below. He forced his head to turn to see the blazing inferno that threatened to overtake them and felt the searing heat insulting their already over heated bodies. The air was thick with blinding smoke but his horse continued to pursue an unknown trail heaving deep wheezing breaths as they went.

Rocks skidded from under foot causing the horse to lurch sideways and slide forward for a number of stomach-churning seconds. With stability regained the horse veered sharply left but the terrifying ordeal of the incline was not over.

Just as they plunged into the openness of the green valley a stampede of wild horses threatened their safety. The rider’s horse swerved to avoid collision. Regaining control, the rider eased his horse to a slow trot to allow its heartbeat to ease gently. But with the rapidly descending flames still raging toward the valley he needed to act fast.

Immediately the stampede had past, the rider steered his sweating horse toward a shallow stream. Without wanting to stress his faithful horse further he gently steered the horse with the reins toward a rugged landscape located on the opposite side of the valley. Once there he dismounted and led the horse through a maze of rocky crevices.

Above them a cloud of thickening smoke rapidly blocked out the sky. The ground beneath them altered from the luscious valley grass to a rocky path leading into a partially hidden opening in the side of the valley wall. The cave-like passageway was dark and damp as they edged forward to the echo of his horses’ hooves on the rocky surface. The horse’s wheezy breath gradually eased closer to a regular breathing pattern.

A gentle breeze carried a fresh earthy fragrance as they made their way through a tunnel that seemed to have no end. The man touched the wall and the ceiling above to find their way. Following a bend slightly leftward a faint light filtered in. Within moments they stepped out once again into the valley now blackened – burnt to ashes. A hundred yards further on, the stench of burnt flesh insulted their nostrils. The horse tried to push the man away from the scene but they couldn’t avoid the hundreds of carcasses of wild horses that were scattered across the valley floor.

The rider’s horse reared and snorted. In awe and wonder the rider mounted and rode away from the valley of death.

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Short Fiction by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

 

 

More Garden Creations.

Until garden stores and nurseries are back to full business, small tidy ups and finding temporary homes for my potted plants, is as much as we can do for now.
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We finished off the seating corner for now. I’m hoping to place a Narnia lamp post between the arch seat and the garden shed. Perhaps once the 3 native bottle brush grow a bit taller, they’ll be seen behind the seat cushions.

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Extra pebbled areas where we constantly walk is definitely helping the warn patches of the lawn.

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Lawn still recovering.

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mmmm….I think a nice garden statue would look good here at the bottom of the back steps. Another trip to a nursery once lock down has lifted completely.

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I’m in the Garden by Chrissy for Riverside Peace

 

A Touch of Autumn Colour

These photos were taken in our little front garden which was partly there, without any commonsense or plan, when we moved into our new home in December. With a bit of rearranging here and there, adding some cottage garden seedlings, using grey water and buckets throughout summer’s drought water restrictions, the garden is coming alive.

I’m in the Garden by Chrissy for Riverside Peace

 

Mother’s Day Drive

Highs of the day.

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An astounding 490 metres above sea level.

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A beautiful Sunny Sunday.

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From the North Brother we could see the South and Middle Brother Mountains.

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We were down there last week taking a drive.

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Who would believe such a beautiful lookout is situated just 30 minutes south of home.

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The canal to the Pacific Ocean

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Looking up the coast.

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Mountains to the north.

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 Queens Lake north of Laurieton.

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Photography by Chrissy for Riverside Peace

 

A Garden Corner Transformed

This area was all lawn before we started.

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With most garden stores closed due to the COVID-19 restrictions, it’s taken some constant changes and imagination to get the main corner garden acceptable .

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With the fish pond.

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Windmill purchased via the internet. It was actually better than we thought it would be.

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Some creative colour while waiting for the native seeds to grow.

My fairy garden will have to wait until life is back to some sort of normality. My stored gnomes though have found a new home.

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And at night, it’s not a bad job done by a couple of oldies in lock-down.

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I’m in the Garden by Chrissy for Riverside Peace

 

Special Places and Great Memories #4

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Amish country Ohio, America 2008

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Soldiers Point New South Wales, Australia 2017

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South Coast – New South Wales, Australia 2012

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East Coast – Tasmania, Australia 2015

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Seal Island – Southern Tasmania, Australia 2015

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South Coast – New South Wales, Australia 2012

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Tasman Sea East Coast -Tasmania 2014

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South Coast – New South Wales, Australia 2012

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Cole Bay – East Coast, Tasmania 2014

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Richmond – New South Wales, Australia 2007

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East Coast – Tasmania, Australia 2014

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Tasman Sea – East Coast Tasmania, Australia – 2014

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Amish Country – Ohio, America 2008

Photography by Chrissy at Riverside Peace